The Saturday Post: Political ads that don't make you wanna puke edition

Are you as sick of political ads as I am? I don't believe a single word said in a single ad this time around, from either candidate. Such hatefulness and negativity does nothing for me, certainly doesn't make me want to mark my ballot for someone who only denigrates their opponent rather than honestly lay out their plans and raise up Americans to proudly follow their lead.

Dwight Eisenhower was the first to air political campaign ads on television, in 1952 (according to this post from Open Culture). What a long, downward spiral we've taken since Ike's happy jingles and direct answers.

(This last one is erroneously marked as from 1956, but it's 1952.)

I agree with Ike: It is indeed time for a change—starting first with elimination of all the negative and mean-spirited campaigning.

Best wishes for a weekend free of all political ads. Other than those above, of course.

Happy Saturday!

Long-distance grandparenting: Eight ways it gets easier as grandkids get older

I've been a long-distance grandma from the moment I became a grandma at all. So I have no idea what it's like to have my grandsons nearby. I know only what it's like to have them living more than 800 miles away, to miss them far more often than not.

I do know, though, that it's getting easier to be a long-distance grandma. Partially because I've just accepted that my daughter, son-in-law, and grandsons won't be moving any closer any time soon, if ever. More so, though, it's because my oldest grandson is getting older, and my youngest grandson is not far behind him.

With no more baby grandchildren right now, I do miss the idea of not having a little baby to hold in my arms. Thing is, with the distance between us, it always was more of exactly that—an idea, for the reality was that I was able to hold my grandbabies in my arms so rarely.

Now that my grandsons are getting older, though, my long-distance grandparenting is getting easier, for several reasons.

Older grandkids ... remember you. With the little ones, the first few minutes of contact, whether on the phone, Skype, or in person, are spent saying, "Hey, baby! It's Gramma! Remember Gramma?!" That's no longer required, thankfully. They remember me.

Older grandkids ... pay attention and actually converse with you.On Skype, via FaceTime (if you're fortunate enough to have it), and in person (when you're really fortunate). At least for a few minutes.

Older grandkids ... get it—and appreciate it, look forward to it—when you send them letters, packages, cards, mail of any sort.

Older grandkids ... can and often do send mail back.

Older grandkids ... can say, "Mom I want to talk to Gramma" when you're on the phone with their mother. And when handed the phone, they talk, not just press buttons and unintentionally hang up on you.

Older grandkids ... will eventually have their own phone to call Gramma unassisted by Mom or Dad.

Older grandkids ... also will eventually—sooner than I think, I'm sure—be able to travel unaccompanied for special solo stays at Gramma's. (If, that is, Gramma and Mommy are brave enough to allow such unaccompanied travel.)

Older grandkids ... hug you back. Reciprocal hugs last far longer in one's memory than one-sided hugs. In Gramma's memory and in theirs.

I remember cradling my grandsons in my arms when they were babies, rocking them and snuggling their delicious little heads into my neck as I held their blanket-bundled bodies close to my heart. I delighted in that when I had the honor of being with them, missed it beyond compare when without them.

Those moments of physically holding my baby grandsons close to my heart were too few and too far between. Now that they're older, the physical moments together are still too few and too far between, yet the non-physical methods of holding my big-boy grandsons close to my heart—and me to theirs—are, thankfully, increasing.

Which makes this long-distance grandparenting gig a wee bit easier to bear. It may not be my preferred grandparenting scenario, to be sure, but it works. For me. For us. For now.

Photos of the boys in their plaid shirts are by Alison Baum.

Today's question:

What delights you about the kids you love getting older?

Make apple butter in the crockpot? I did it!

 

Inspired by this post from Mamal Diane plus a surplus of apples, I decided to make apple butter last weekend. It was much easier than I ever expected and far more delicious than store bought. It's also the most recent addition to my Recipe Box.

Enjoy! And please do let me know if you try a batch yourself.

 

 

 

 

Pit bulls, owl quotes, and guilty babies

As long-time readers may have noticed—because of postings here and here, to name a few—I'm continually amused and sometimes even touched by the search terms that lead people to Grandma's Briefs.

Time again for me to share with you those that most make me go "Huh?"

First off, let me say that other than phrases related to grandmas and grandsons, always at the top of the query list for my site is pit bull. Why? Well, my dog Mickey is part pit bull (other part pointer). I occasionally blog about him. Apparently a lot of people are searching—be it out of love, fear, or disdain—for information on animals that look and act much like my Mickey. All I can figure is I need to start another blog, perhaps called Pit Bull Briefs. I have no doubt, according to my list of query terms, that it would be quite popular—at least on the search engines.

Other than pit bull, here are some of my more curious queries in the last week, plus links to what the unsuspecting searchers ended up being directed to.

I love macaroni — Believe it or not, in the past week I've had not only one person but two who reached Grandma's Briefs by typing that into the Google search bar. I do love macaroni, especially when paired with cheese. I have a feeling my fellow mac lovers were a little disappointed, though, when their love affair led them here.

Owl quotes — I'm not sure how, when, or why someone might think they'd find quotes from owls online (Is it even possible to quote an owl? Do they say anything quote worthy? In a language we'd understand?), but again, not just one but two people got here looking for wisdom from owls. Instead, they got this, which does feature a cool owl photo (not by me), but nothing uttered by an owl, not even a hoo-hoo of any sort.

Scholarships for grandmas — If there is such a thing, I want to sign up, too. Maybe the searcher, if they happen to be reading this, will share the successful results from their search. This sponsored post certainly didn't get them any closer to the pot of gold they were searching for.

Not just a chicken bagel recipe — I've heard of several kinds of bagels but never a chicken bagel. They certainly got something that's not just a chicken bagel recipe when they stumbled upon my Homemade Bagels post.

Guilty baby — This one makes me sad, to be quite honest. Babies are innocent, guiltless beings—even when at their most frustrating. I worry why one might search for that term and what they plan to do to the baby they assume is guilty. It's even more disconcerting when seeing that three people used that specific search term and ended up on Grandma's Briefs. I hope they thought twice about the guilt of the child in question when they were met with my post on being a guilt-ridden grandma.

So not guilty!

"Stinky diaper" — Yes, it even had the quote marks around it. If a dirty diaper was a challenge for them, I can only imagine what they thought when landing on my Tough (Grand) Mudder post.

Hide in leaves — If you need directions on how to do it, you're seriously missing out on the fallen leaf fun. Bubby had no trouble figuring it out, as evidenced here.

What is one word for not improved — Apparently this person never heard of an online thesaurus. I doubt this post gave them what they sought. Though maybe they enjoyed the photo of Bubby and Mac.

What to write about a grandson's smile — Nothing curious about that one, really. It's just a sweet search. And one that made me smile. I hope what they found here helped them write what they'd hoped to — and made them smile.

Today's question:

What did you last search for online?

Musings on eating, with two hands

If not for that well-placed comma in today's post title, you just might think what follows will be all about double-fisted dining. That's not it at all. Today I'm spouting recent thoughts I've had on the contradictions related to kids and how they eat. Or don't eat.

On one hand (this is the "two hands" part), we all know about, are concerned about the frightening statistics on childhood obesity today. The issue tops the list of those addressed by our first lady, health and welfare organizations, doctors, school lunch programs. Most importantly, it's something on the minds of many a parent and grandparent.

We all want our kiddos to eat less, move more, be in better shape overall. Privately as well as publicly, we show concern that kids are exercising too little, eating too much.

That's on one hand.

On the other hand, always on the minds of mothers and grandmothers, more so than anyone, is how the heck to get our little ones to eat. Especially when it comes to toddlers. They don't seem to eat when we want them to or what we want them to.

In direct contrast to the obesity issue, there's the continual concern on the part of many a frazzled parent or grandparent that a child isn't getting enough food. There are books, magazines, websites, television programs dedicated to helping figure out how to get some food into the mouths and tummies of those tiny tots so they can grow up big and strong.

We beg, plead, cajole, bribe, sometimes even punish, all in the name of getting Junior to eat. I'm not talking about just veggies and other healthy foods. If you regularly enjoy the company of a child under the age of five, you likely know what I mean.

My oldest grandson is the very pickiest of the pickiest kids I have ever met. That darn kid doesn't like pudding...or whipped cream...or jello. He doesn't like jelly on his peanut butter sandwiches. He refuses to eat cheese quesadillas if the brown spots on the tortilla are noticeable. And he has never, ever had a hamburger—not even as part of a McDonald's Happy Mealin. Not in his entire life. Seriously. "I don't like them" is his response when asked why. How he knows that is your guess as good as mine, since he's never had so much a nibble of a burger.

Yet he does like avocados, broccoli, salmon. A kid can't live on those things alone, though. Well, they probably could...maybe...but that's not being realistic. So his mom and dad (and grandma and other caregivers, at times) spend inordinate amounts of time and energy trying to get the kid to eat. Anything. I used to think Megan was making it up. Then I spent extended time with Bubby and came away wondering—still wonder—how he manages to stay alive much less thrive.

Then there's his brother. My youngest grandson. My Mac. The happiest little eater ever. Mac dives right in, willing to experience all things edible—plus things non-edible at times, too. He even dipped into the salsa dish just like the big boys when we recently visited a Mexican restaurant. Sure, he once famously sneered and snarled at strawberries, but he gobbled them right up the very next day, so those Grandma served up just must have seemed exceptionally tart to him.

Mac enjoys food, enjoys eating. Nearly anything. Megan sent me the following photos the other night of Mac happily trying out a new recipe she had cooked up.

 

Bubby greets Mommy's new recipes with disdain; Mac delights in them, requires a big fork to to satisfy his big appetite.

On one hand there's Bubby, who refuses to eat. On the other hand there's Mac, who eats anything and everything.

On one hand there's the problem of childhood obesity and the need to get kids to eat less and better. On the other hand there's the frustration and desperation many parents face in trying to get their kids to eat anything at all.

Parenting can be a challenge, and never more so—nor more conflict-ridden—than when it comes to kids and food. The getting them to eat, but not eat too much.

Just one more reason I'm glad I'm Grandma to little ones, not Mom. I get to muse; Megan/Mom gets to wring her hands while trying to figure out how to make her kids eat—just not too much.

Today's question:

What has been your bigger challenge as a parent or grandparent: Getting kids to eat less and more healthy or getting them to eat anything at all?