Time for a happy dance, plus GRAND Social No. 60

Yessiree, it's time for a quick little happy dance!

Why the happy dance? Because tomorrow, I'm heading to the desert to see those happy little dancers named — for bloggy purposes, anyway — Bubby and Mac! I get to spend an entire week with them, enjoying fun times such as these from the last time we were together, which was forever ago in April:

This week's visit is an extra special one as I'm visiting as a guest, not to cover child care while Mommy and Daddy leave town, thanks to my anniversary gift from Jim. I can't wait for the adventures to begin! From what I hear from Megan, Bubby and Mac can't wait either.

Which warrants another round of the happy dance, wouldn't you say?

Thank you for joining me today — for the happy dance and for GRAND Social No. 60. Enjoy!

How it works:

• All grandparent bloggers are invited to add a link. You don't have to blog specifically about grandparenting, just be a grandparent who blogs.

• To link up a post, copy the direct URL to the specific post — new or old — that you want to share, not the link to your blog's home page. Then click the blue button marked with "Add your link" below and follow the directions.

• You can add up to three posts, but no duplicates, contests, giveaways, or Etsy sites, please.

• Adding a mention such as This post linked to the GRAND Social to your linked posts is appreciated. Or, you can post the GRAND Social button anywhere on your page using the following code:

<a href="/" target="_blank"><img src="http://grandmasbriefs.squarespace.com/storage/GRANDsocialbutton.jpg " alt="Grandma’sBriefs.com" width="125" height="125" /></a>

• The GRAND Social linky is open for new posts through Wednesday evening, so please come back to see those added after your first visit.

• If you're not a blogger, you have the pleasure of being a reader. Bloggers who link up would be honored to have one and all — other bloggers as well as readers — visit, read and, if so moved, comment, even if just a "Hey, stopping by from the GRAND Social."

• For another grandparent linky, visit Connie's Grandparent's Say It Saturday Link Party each Saturday.

What I learned this week: Reason No. 11 why I won't live near my grandsons

As many of you know, I live more than 800 miles away from my grandsons. When my daughter and son-in-law first told my husband and me we'd be grandparents, it broke my heart. I was certain I'd not survive unless they relocated to live near me.

They never did.

Of course, there was the option of my husband and me moving to live near them. A lot of grandparents do that, but it's just not in the cards for me. I wrote about my reasons for not doing so in this article. At the time I wrote it, one big reason I noted for not moving to be near my grandsons is the fact I have a life here in the mountains — a life that includes my (yes, adult and out of the nest) oldest and youngest daughters who live in the mountains, too, despite my middle daughter and her family preferring the desert.

There are other reasons why I won't live near my grandsons, and another I hadn't originally thought of became crystal clear this week.

I like to take photos. I'm not the greatest, though I'm working on getting better. Here are two I took of nature in all its glory while looking out the sliding doors to my deck this week:

 
A butterfly enjoying the dianthus.

A squirrel relaxing in the tree.

Compare those two photos to two my daughter took of nature in all its glory around her place this week. Keep in mind that this is my daughter who, along with her husband and my two grandsons, lives in the desert. Here are the photos she texted me:

A scorpion lodged inside the honeycomb window blinds.

A lizard in the garage — just outside the door to the house.

I'd say nature in the mountains (my place) is far easier on the eyes — and nerves — than nature in the desert (their place), wouldn't you?

The bottom line/the moral of the story being that if getting to see these two adorable kids...

 

... on a regular basis means seeing those two frightening critters on a regular basis, too, I'll take being a long-distance grandma any day. I'm not proud to admit that... but it's true.

And that is what I learned this week.

Well, I also learned that my daughter is far more brave than I ever thought she'd be, that little Meggie of mine who once (as a teen!) captured a spider in our family room late one night by placing a heavy bowl over it, then taping a note to the bowl asking me to take care of what was trapped inside once I awoke. Now look at her — taking photos instead of screaming and running!

(Now I hope I'll be just as brave and not be completely freaked out about icky desert things when I visit my daughter, son-in-law and grandsons in 10 days!)

Best wishes for a critter-free weekend, wherever you may be! I look forward to seeing you all again on Monday!

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

What I learned this week: One big thing, one small thing, and one in-between

Big thing: I do daily injections to help manage my MS. It's an expensive medication, and I'm very fortunate to have insurance that covers the majority of it. Despite that good fortune, I regularly complain about having to pay my portion of the co-pay — even after co-pay assistance.

A few days ago, my prescription for the medication was called into Walgreens by my new neurologist (see below). For the past five years that I've been shooting up with the stuff, the prescription has been filled by a "specialty pharmacy," not the local Walgreens. The new nurse who called in the Rx didn't realize this, though, and erroneously sent it to Walgreens... who soon contacted me to let me know there will be a bit of a delay while they await delivery of the meds and that my cost for the 30-day supply of injections will be $6000.09.

Yes, you read that right: SIX THOUSAND DOLLARS and NINE CENTS!

I about died. Then I immediately thanked my lucky stars — and God, too — for my insurance. And for specialty pharmacies. Then I canceled the Walgreens order.

Lesson learned: In mere seconds, I realized the importance of shutting up about my measly $35 co-pay portion when I could be paying $6000.09 per month. Or going without. I guarantee I'd be going without, if not for the insurance. 

Small thing: Speaking of my MS — which I really hate to focus on but this is indeed what I learned this week — I met with a new neurologist the other day. I'd been seeing the same one since being diagnosed in 1992. He was (is) an old, old man who finally, after practicing longer than I've been alive, chose to retire a few months ago. We had our last annual appointment a year ago. He told me then (his exact words), "You are a miracle, Lisa. You are one of the few who have figured out the mind/body connection. You are truly a miracle." That was the last time I saw him. Considering his advanced age, I took his exclamations with a grain of salt.

Fast forward to my appointment this week with my new neurologist, a young gal from India (whom, maybe this is crazy to admit, I chose from the list of local board-certified neurologists mostly because she reminded me of my friend Vidya from India). After discussing this and that, my new neuro had me run through a few physical tests. Her response: "You are strong!" Then she had me walk across the room. Her eyes grew big, a smile crossed her face, and she exclaimed, "You are a miracle, girl!"

I couldn't believe it. Very same words from the young neuro as had been uttered by the old neuro.

Lesson learned: I'm a miracle... at least in the eyes of my neurologists.

The one in-between: Yesterday my grandsons and I read one of my recent picture book acquisitions while on Facetime. Well, I read it to Bubby. Mac preferred roaming the house and finding a bone for Roxy while I read. Meh... he's two.

Our Facetime session was short, but just the sort of thing I need now and then to carry me through til I hug Bubby and Mac again. I like to think it's the sort of thing they need, too — even if treating the dog to a bone takes priority.

Lesson learned: Though it usually feels akin to pulling teeth to get myself added to my grandsons' busy schedule while 800+ miles away, it's worth it. For all of us, I hope. So I'll keep pursuing Facetime opportunities. Perhaps some Skype or Google+ time will eventually follow.

That, folks, is what I learned this week — though I've not yet fully committed to the "big, small, in-between" designation I've assigned each. Depending on the hour and my mood, the order certainly could be flipped, flopped, turned inside out. Still, those are my lessons, and I'm sticking to it.

As I mentioned last week, I'll be offline Saturday and Sunday, for the most part. I hope to see you back here Monday!

Wishing you a most marvelous weekend! Cheers!

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

Photo replay: Cold turkey

After spending 10 days of 24/7 time with my grandsons, it's now been more than a week since I've seen their faces or heard their voices.
Going cold turkey stinks, to say the very least.

Bubby, Mac and Gramma at the zoo — April 26, 2013

Enjoy your Sunday!

Photo replay: Little pieces

I returned home to the mountains yesterday. Pieces of my heart, though, remain in the desert.

 

Cheers to surviving the bittersweet bits of grandparenting!

Seven days... and the language of love

Every family has a language all its own. Sure, the words may be common knowledge to those outside the family, but the manner in which some words are strung together — and, often, the tone in which they're said — have significance far beyond the basic for those privy to a special, familial meaning.

For example, how would you feel if I were to say to you any sentence containing the phrase "love pop-can chain?" Confused, I'd venture to say.

For my funky family of five, though, any mentions of "love pop-can chain" cause hearts to warm and smiles to form as we remember one long-ago camping trip.

None of us recall exactly how it started, but at some point in the weekend, we came across a small chain of pop-can tops, you know, the kind in which you pull back the ring to open your can of sugary carbonated goodness, and are left with a dangerous metal shard in your hand (yet another thing kids nowadays know nothing about).

One by one we added our pop-can tops to the chain and eventually, for reasons I can't recall and in fits of laughter that still define many of our family gatherings, we dubbed the chain our love pop-can chain. We brought home our love pop-can chain, displayed it proudly. I have it somewhere — and am now quite unsettled because I just this moment realized I can't remember where I hung the love pop-can chain when we moved to this house more than four years ago. Because I can't recall its location, I can't share a photo. But just know that it's a chain of connected pop-can tops, linked together with love and lots and lots of laughter. For reasons understood only by my family.

Another example is the phrase "in net, under monkey." That means nothing to anyone other than the five members of my family, all of us privy to the anal tendencies of Andrea. Those tendencies once proved Andie's downfall, as she chose to keep a written reminder to herself where she hid contraband from Mom and Dad — yet kept the note neatly on her bedroom desk in plain sight. Let's just say it was hard to mete out any meaningful disciplinary action when Jim and I were laughing so hard at how we discovered her hidden stash.

Those are phrases exclusive to our Carpenter clan. Others our family utters with grins and giggles are phrases millions of others have heard, possibly repeated themselves, because they're lines from movies. But they make us smile when stated with a certain tone, at appropriately perfect times.

A few family favorites:

"I'll be right back" from Scream (not "I'll be back" from Terminator!).

"What time I s'posed to be there?" from Bill Cosby: Himself. Jim says this. Often. Making the rest of us chuckle. Often.

"Time, Mr. Carter?" from Point Break.

Another related to time — funny how so many are — is "Seven days...". It's best said in a creepy whisper, and even more effective when said over the phone. Proof that such things are understood only by my immediate family came by way of a recent interaction with one of my sisters, when we were testing out a new phone system I had hooked up for our mom.

After getting all the handsets correctly set up, I called my sister from it to ensure all systems were go. "Seven days..." I whispered to her, in a creepy manner my daughters and husband would be proud of. Her response: "WHAAAT?" So I whispered it again... and got the same response again. It had nothing to do with the phone connection and everything to do with her not getting the reference.

So I groaned, then spent far longer than necessary explaining the creepy phone call from The Ring. You know, the one characters receive after watching a video (back in the days of VHS) that they so should not have watched and now had only seven days left to live, as the creepy caller so creepily informed them. She shrugged, didn't get it. (Maybe I should have just said to my sister, "Do you like scary movies?"... which is, um, from Scream.)

Yes, we find such things funny in our family. And it's the "Seven days..." phrase that ran through my head again and again yesterday as I kept telling myself "Seven days...". But yesterday's seven days carried a far less creepy connotation, because it's, yes, a mere seven days, until I finally get to see Bubby and Mac again.

Seven days... until I get to see in person my grandsons doing Harlem Shake moves that were featured in a gut-busting video Megan recently texted to me, prefaced with a strong warning that, "This is not appropriate for sharing anwhere online."

Seven days... until I get to see in person the equally inappropriate-for-posting-online Mac as he models big-boy briefs instead of diapers. Megan shared with me the other day a sweet picture of Mac posing in his new undies, accompanied by his giggle-infused comments of "I nakey!"

Seven days... until I get to spend ten days with the lights of my life, my favorite boys ever.

Thing is, because I wrote this post yesterday, the key phrase is now "Six days...".

Only six days until I get to hug my adorable and goofy grandsons.

And that is a phrase everyone reading this likely understands and appreciates — family members or not.

Today's question:

What phrases make your family giggle though others may not know why?

Picture this: A package from Grandma

I mailed a small package of Easter goodies to Bubby and Mac last week.

In return, Megan texted me photos and the comments of the happy recipients upon opening their package from Grandma:

Today's question:

What have you recently received in the mail that made you smile?