Sweet searches (or, A sure sign perimenopause has hit)

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As some of you know, I've had a little trouble with the Grandma's Briefs site this past week, related to commenting. It's all fixed now (as long as you clear your browser cache and are using IE 9 if you use Internet Explorer).

In trying to suss all that out, I ventured into a few spots in the analytics area of my site that I haven't been in a while. And it nearly made me cry. Not, I assure you, because the numbers are low or the problems are high, or anything like that. (Believe it or not, I'm not that shallow. Most of the time.)

What nearly brought me to tears was looking at the search queries. I've written posts in the past about the wacky search terms that lead folks to Grandma's Briefs, but this time I didn't find the queries all that wacky. I found them to be sweet, poignant.

Of course, wackiness wasn't completely absent as the query list included "justy grandmas" (?) and "land before time baby dinosaur hatching in" (??). But for the most part, the search terms included primarily variations of these that touched my heart:

• how to be the best newborn grandma

• heart grows with the love of a child

• my granddaughter makes me laugh out loud

• how to give away grandmas stuff

• letters to grandson

• letter to my 18 year old grandson

• letter to grandson going off to college

• poems for grandmas who passed away

• farewell, grandma

• what grandmas do best

• how hard it is to be a far away grandma

Such queries made me glad I could provide a soft landing spot even if not the exact answers folks were looking for.

Mostly, though, such terms made me deeply grateful that today—this afternoon!—this far away grandma finally gets to hug and hold close her sweet grandsons.

Today's question:

If you were guaranteed a true, accurate answer, what question or search (realistic or not) would you most like to find results for today?

Make-believe Gramma

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A morning on the patio with Bubby in May.

At three years old, Bubby's imagination has blossomed. He delights in playing games of pretend, all make-believe and all played according to his rules.

One of Bubby's favorites is playing Fireman—usually with a policeman hot on the fireman's tail, for some unknown reason. When I'm visiting, I'm assigned the policeman role more often than not. In the role, according to Bubby's rules, I'm to chase Bubby the Fireman around and around while making a "police" noise dictated by Bubby, one impossible for me to replicate in writing.

Bubby also loves, loves, LOVES playing Water Monster at the Splash Pad. Some days Daddy is assigned the role of Water Monster; sometimes it's Mommy. In that game, the Water Monster chases Bubby all around the Splash Pad (or whatever water park they may be at), threatening to dump buckets of water on Bubby...who does his best to avoid the buckets yet squeals in delight when it (inevitably) happens.

This past week or so, Megan says, Bubby has devised a new game. And it stars me, or at least Megan pretending to be me. It's called The Gramma Game.

Before describing the game, here's a little background relative to the play. When I visit, Bubby and I typically start our day with some time on the patio—my only opportunity to enjoy the outdoors before the oppressive desert heat renders me housebound. I relax in a chair, cup of coffee in hand, while Bubby rides his trike around the patio, us chit-chatting back and forth all the while.

That minor yet clearly meaningful to him ritual has led to The Gramma Game. It goes like this: When Megan returns from her daily early morning run, she cools down on the patio for a few minutes. That's when Bubby joins her and proclaims "Let's play The Gramma Game. You be the Gramma and I'll be the Grandkid." He directs Megan to gaze out a pretend window and say, "I wonder where my Grandkid is. I miss him." Then when Bubby the Grandkid comes into view, she's to say "Oh, you're here, Grandkid! I missed you!"

("He's very specific about my actions, telling me what I should be doing or saying," Megan says, in explaining The Gramma Game.)

After exclaiming over how much Gramma has missed the Grandkid, Gramma gets to watch Bubby the Grandkid ride his trike—not the big-boy bike used for real rides—around and around on the patio. Just like the real Gramma does while visiting. Pretend Gramma/Megan watches enthusiastically until Bubby the Grandkid gets off his trike and asks Gramma if there's any "brefast in the pantry" because he's hungry.

Words can't describe how honored I am to have a game named after me. Nor can they describe how excited I am to soon be there to play it with Bubby. Only three more days and The Gramma Game will come to life. No more pretend, no more gazing out a window, no more missing my grandkid. Reality is so much better than the game.

In most cases.

There is one aspect of the game, though, that is indeed so much better than the reality. In The Gramma Game, Megan says, Bubby makes it clear he doesn't have to get on a plane to visit Gramma, he has only to ride his trike to reach me.

Ah, I would give anything for the reality to be as simple as the make-believe.

In reality, though, what I do give is thanks for the planes that bring Bubby to me and me to Bubby.

And for only three more days.

Today's question:

What games of make-believe do you recall from your childhood or those of your children?

3 life skills grandparents can (and should) instill and encourage

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Grandparents matter. As a site coordinator for the local Children's Literacy Center and in my own personal experience, I continually see ways grandparents make a difference—for harried parents, for folks who interact with the grandchildren now and in the future, and, most importantly, for the grandchildren themselves.

Specifically, I consider grandparents prime influencers who can and should take advantage of the endless opportunities to instill and encourage, among other things, these three very important life skills:

READING: As coordinator of a program that requires participating students to spend 15 minutes a day reading to or with an adult, of course I'm going to say that grandparents can help their grandchildren read. But I'm not talking just about kids with reading challenges. And I'm not talking just about sharing a book together now and then. I mean that always and in all ways, grandparents should stress the importance—and the enjoyment—of reading. It's possibly THE most important life skill a child can and should master. Every chance you get, read to him or her, or have the child read to you. Read books, comics, websites, the newspaper, magazines, recipes, road signs, maps and more. Long-distance grandparents can share books on Skype and through online services such as Readeo, Story Time For Me and others. Give books, magazines, graphic novels, how-to guides as gifts, and request the same when asked what you want for Mother's Day, Christmas, birthdays. Have reading materials on hand, as well as in hand.

Lessons are always reinforced by modeling, so model the life of a reader. Grandchildren will remember such things as seeing Grandma reading craft instructions and the daily news—online or in print—and Grandpa poring over maps, manuals, cookbooks. Model, model, model! It's the simplest, most subtle way of effectively instilling a desired behavior.

MANNERS: Politeness goes beyond "please" and "thank you" and table manners, although those are indeed biggies. But manners include things like punctuality, thank you notes, and RSVPing—one way or the other—when requested. How best to encourage such behavior? Again, by modeling such behavior. Be on time, send thank you notes, and RSVP when invited to a grandchild's function, even if an RSVP wasn't specifically requested. Point out the importance—and benefits—of being on time, whenever you have been, whenever possible. Send thank you notes to grandchildren when they give you ANYthing. Every.Single.Time. Those cards will be cherished as much as the lesson. And never fail to RSVP, even if it feels silly. Calling a grandchild to say "Hey, I just wanted to RSVP to your program (or party or recital or game)" makes it clear how easy, appreciated, and downright awesome the whole RSVP thing can be.

SPEAKING: Everyone likely agrees that kids should read and be polite. But I also think kids should be capable participants in discussions...or at least capable of speaking for themselves when spoken to. One of my pet peeves is kids who cannot (or will not) respond when adults say "hello" to them or offer little beyond a perfunctory glance and a reluctantly mumbled "hi." Toddlers are toddlers; I understand. But they should know from an early age that when an adult friend or family member speaks to them, the polite thing (see above) is to respond. By the time a kid is a teen, there's absolutely no excuse for not responding.

When my girls were teens, a few of their friends thought nothing of never acknowledging parents in the room—even when I spoke directly to them with something as simple as "Hey, how are you?" Gah! I currently have students who when asked what they've been reading or what their favorite part of a story was, Mom or Dad (and sometimes even Grandma) will tell me that little Junior loved this or that. No, I want to hear Junior tell me. Just let kids talk. The more they do it, the better at it they'll be come. Even the shy kids. Honest.

Grandparents can encourage grandchildren to comfortably and appropriately speak up by allowing them to place their own orders with restaurant servers or speak to librarians and cashiers themselves, and by not allowing grandchildren to slip in and out of a room without politely saying "hello" or otherwise acknowledging adults who are present, be they friends or family. Most importantly, grandparents can and should have discussions with their grandchildren about nearly anything of interest to the child, teaching grandkids what enjoyable conversing looks like, feels like.

Fortunately grandparents—in most cases—are not responsible for the day-to-day tasks and challenges of raising their grandchildren. But with myriad opportunities to instill and encourage important life skills, grandparents can certainly have an impact on some of those challenges and be the difference that helps their grandchildren succeed.

Today's question:

Which of the three life skills above do you recall being encouraged by one or both of your grandparents?

Of bloggers and babies

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Today begins the final countdown and prep work as I plan to take off for the two summer events I've most looked forward to. Well, beyond the early summer birth of Baby Mac, that is.

The first is BlogHer. In San Diego. With my friend and fellow blogger Heather from Jackadillo Princess. And three thousand other bloggers.

Heather and I leave Thursday morning and return Sunday night, and to say I'm excited about attending my first blog conference is truly an understatement. I'm also, though, quite anxious about the whole thing.

As I've noted before, I was once a shy young lass, and events such as this tend to cause me to revert to my lassie days and ways. Especially after learning that one of the features of the BlogHer conference is the "Serenity Suite," a "safe place" where attendees can escape the overwhelming crowds and relax. And vent to one of the caring bloggers taking turns hosting the suite, if you're in meltdown mode, overcome by the exhilaration of real-life interaction with one another. And the snarkiness that can accompany the real-life interaction of 3,000 (mostly female) bloggers vying for the attentions of one another as well as big-time potential blog sponsors and advertisers.

The idea that a Serenity Suite is necessary scares me a bit. But I'm hoping to have no need for it except to possibly put my feet up after walking the Expo Hall or partying down at one of the bajillions of parties planned for the duration.

I'm also hoping any negativity will be outweighed by the positive force that can be when a massive and dynamic group of women join together to support one another in something which we are all passionate—blogging.

Mostly, though, I'm hoping to come away with awesome ideas for taking Grandma's Briefs to the next level, ideas to bring back and share with you, ideas for you. Which is along with all the parties and the swag I'll nab the main reason this introvert is willing to pretend to be an extrovert for a few days anyway. Wish me luck.

While BlogHer is a definitely a high point of my summer, the event taking place just a few days after my return from it is the true blue highlight of the sweltering season for me: a trip to the desert (and its sweltering heat) to once again see Bubby and Baby Mac!

For six whole days I get to drop the "long-distance" qualifier from my name and be a real-and-in-person (and in charge) grandma to my grandsons while Megan and Preston head off to a resort to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary. I'm packing my Grandma Bag, lining up activities, and making sure my camera battery is fully charged.

When it comes to the visit with my babies, though, if I'm wore out after crafts and cuddles, marathon storytimes, bathtimes for both, and chasing Bubby round and round while playing policeman to his fireman, I'll have no need for a substitute Serenity Suite. No, I'll just plop down in the rocking chair, situate one grandson in my arms and another by my side, and we'll rock away to our heart's content—a serenity so sweet on its own.

Today's question:

What are you planning and/or preparing for this week?

Reason No. 411 grandmas come in handy

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One of the most important tasks of grandmothers is to support our adult children in their choices, their rules, and their lessons when it comes to raising their kids, our grandchildren.

Sometimes the need for such support comes in unexpected ways.

Megan called one day last week, starting the conversation with the typical "What are you doing?"

"Um, just working online," I told her. "What are you doing?"

"Well, Bubby and I are having a conversation. About poop," she said in her matter-of-fact teacher voice.

Ahh...I get it. She was talking in her this-is-a-lesson voice. She was on speaker phone. Bottom line: Bubby was listening.

So I resisted my immediate "WTF? Poop?" response, following instead with the requisite lilting, "Oh, really?"

"Yes," Megan continued. "We're talking about all the different places there is to poop. Bubby poops in the potty, like a big boy. Mommy and Daddy poop in the potty, too. Baby Mac poops in his diaper. And Roxy (the dog) poops outside. But when I told Bubby that kitties—that YOUR kitties—poop in the house, Bubby didn't believe me?" She ended on a high note of incredulity at Bubby's skepticism on the matter.

I'm no dummy. My daughter needed my support and I wasn't going to let her down. I immediately launched into authoritative grandma mode.

"Oh, but they do!" I responded loud and clear for Bubby's benefit. "Abby and Isabel both go poop in the house. In their litter box."

"That's yucky," Bubby responded.

"Some people don't want their kitties to go outside to go potty because a fox might get them, so they have their kitties go potty inside in a litter box."

"We wouldn't want a fox to eat the kitties, would we?" Megan asked Bubby.

Of course Bubby said no ... but it was clear the yuck factor was still a factor, especially the idea of the stink and the mess such activity might make.

"I clean their potties each week," I told Bubby. "And Abby and Isabel have litter boxes with lids on them, so they keep the stink in their potty. It makes it a private potty for them because kitties like privacy when they go potty. Maybe next time you're here, we'll watch as Abby and Isabel go into their private potties."

"Can you believe that?" Megan asked Bubby.

Bubby's response: "I don't even believe it!" in a chipper my-eyes-have-seen-the-light tone, doing his best to convince us he gets it, that he does indeed now believe what was once truly unbelievable to him.

Shew! Gramma successfully came through on the unexpected and unusual call for support.

After a bit more chit chat, the conversation wound down.

"You guys go now," I told them. "And maybe you should continue your discussion, maybe talk about where fish go potty."

As Megan said "goodbye," I heard Bubby in the background clearly inquire, "Where DO fish go poop, Mom?"

"Thanks, Mom," Megan added as she hung up the phone. Only I wasn't too clear on her tone. Was it one of sincere thanks for the support? Or one dripping with sarcasm at my suggestion for continuing the poop lesson?

It didn't matter. My grandchild's mind had been expanded. My daughter's lesson had been supported.

My grandma work was done for the day.

(My paparazzi work, on the other hand, continues, as I stalk Abby and Isabel with camera in hand in hopes of snapping them entering their private potties. I figure photos would be great reinforcement of the lesson for Bubby.)

Today's question:

What are your thoughts on cats? Where fish—or other animals—go potty, and life lessons learned? (Really, what question might you expect in relation to such a post?)

Grandma angst

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TEEN Lisa, left, with former BFF NormaAh, the teen years. The insecurity, the drama, the distorted image of yourself and your place in the world. The overwhelming angst of it all.

Thankfully we grow up, we become adults, we leave all that behind.

Until we become grandmothers.

In many ways, being a grandma is much like being a teen. It's rife with insecurity, jealousy, a need for acceptance and assurance from those we adore that we're good enough and that they really do like us as much as we like them.

Angst, once again, in all its ugliness.

Like teens, grandmas spend an inordinate amount of time pining over another. We're thrilled when the phone rings and it's a grandchild. We're distraught if the phone calls are few and far between.

We are always on the lookout for gifts to buy, cards to send, activities and ideas to share. We delight in the sharing, thrilled with the approval expressed by a giggle, smile, hoot, holler and hurray of "Thanks, Grandma!"

GRANDMA Lisa, with Baby Mac and Bubby We take more photos than we'll ever print then plead for more directly from the source. We keep copies on the computer, in scrap books, in brag books, on desktops and walls. And we point them all out to whomever, whenever, we can.

We want to hug and touch and squeeze the little ones with every fiber of our being. And when we're apart, phantom pains plague our days until we can once again hold them in our arms.

We profess our love in myriad ways and anxiously await the love to be returned. When that love isn't demonstrated in return as quickly or as often as we crave, we start to worry another may have taken our place. Another grandmother, in particular. Jealousy eats at our very core, but like a prideful teen, we grin and bear it in the face of our perceived nemesis, then spend hours licking our wounds in private.

We primp, preen and diet with the determination of narcissistic teens in hopes of being physically fit — and remaining so for years to come — to join in the games and activities of our youthful dears.

And we once again walk the thin line with Mom, balancing between wanting to say exactly what's on our mind but knowing she can keep us from hanging out with our heart's desire if what's on our mind upsets her, questions her authority, her ability. Only this time the mom with whom we verbally tangle and tussle isn't our birth mother, but the mother we birthed — our daughter. Or our daughter-in-law, wife of the father we birthed — our son. Crossing the line with either may result in being put on restriction, disallowed from seeing our grandchildren.

So we occasionally bite our tongues, bide our time. Which is okay, because through years of yearning and learning, we now know we won't die if we don't have our say, if we don't get our way.

And that right there is the difference.

As teens, we were extreme, always and overly dramatic. We wanted to be the one and only who made another's world go round. And every single moment felt to be one of do or die.

As grandmas, though, we've learned to temper the angst.

We accept that we won't always get what we want, that moments of insecurity will pass, that expressions of love from a child may wax and wane but that the love itself always remains, will always be there. Regardless of the frequency of phone calls made or received, the number of cards mailed, the piles of photos taken and shared.

Regardless of the amount of time spent together.

And, most fortunately, regardless of the amount of time spent apart.

Today's question:

What has been your most recent teen-like act or behavior, positive or not?

This post linked to Grandparent's Say It Saturday.