Predictable me

If you have kids in your circle of influence, you're likely well acquainted with Gru, Vector and minions of myriad mannerisms.

Yes, I'm talking about the characters from Despicable Me.

While I had no familiarity with the Gru crew until Despicable Me 2 came out and I had the pleasure of viewing it at the theater with Bubby and Mac, I'm far more familiar with a similar sort I like to call... Predictable Me.

That would be, ahem, me. Try as I might to be mysterious and unpredictable in hopes of living a life large and thus worth writing (and reading) about, I'm pretty boring. And predictable.

A few examples:

Predictable Me's Proof of Predictability

• When visiting my grandsons, we always read bedtime stories together.

• I sit in the same general area — preferably the exact same seats — each time I go to church or the movie theater. (I blame it on Jim, but that's only half true.)

• Frittatas are my go-to meal when I don't know what to make for dinner.

• Talk of having a million dollars always includes mention of a monkey. And a dress any color but green.

• My feelings are hurt each time I ask Megan about experiences Bubby and Mac recently had with their other grandma and great-grandma — the fun, active grandmas who get to do more than just babysit.

• No matter how much or how little my mealtime glass has been filled, I will not finish the entire glass. And I don't drink until I'm done with the meal — which is perhaps why I don't finish it.

• My gift wish list always includes candles, books, cool socks and coffee.

• When in a conflict or argument with a family member, once things simmer down and I've walked away, hung up or stopped texting, I will inevitably return moments later with, "There's one last thing I just have to say about this and then I'm not saying anything else!"

• If I get up early so I have plenty of time to prepare before leaving for an event or trip, I always end up running behind... because I fritter away all the extra time I built in as I assume I have so much extra time.

• I tear up every time I hear Adele sing Someone Like You. Or Sinead O' Connor sing Three Babies.

• And I weep a tad every time I watch The Voice. Not because my favorite "voices" lose battles but because there's always at least one voice in each episode so passionate it brings me to tears.

• I strain my head to look out the vehicle's passenger side window when I'm not the driver. Not because there's anything interesting out there but because everyone else's driving scares the <cuss> out of me.

• When dining on restaurant food with friends or family — whether at the restaurant or carry out — I ask those with me, "How is your ______." Maybe I'm a pig who wants a bite of theirs. Or maybe I'm a Mom who wants to ensure everyone is satisfied.

• I take it personally when no one responds to me during Twitter chats and parties even though I tell myself not to and promise myself I won't.

• When I'm at a loss for something wise and witty to write about, I compose a list.

• I always end conversations, phone calls, emails, letters and texts with the folks I care most about with some version of I love you. Plus an emoticon/graphic/emoji goodie, when possible.

That's it. End of list. Thanks for reading.

Love ya! ♥

Oh, and Happy Halloween!

Today's question:

In what ways are you predictable?

My grandson the hypnotist

Look into Mac's eyes, if you dare.

Hypnotic cuteness or biased grandma?

I say YES on both counts!

Today's question:

Have you ever been hypnotized? Do share!

Oh, how my grandsons swear

I didn't let my daughters swear when they were young. I didn't allow them to swear in my presence when they were older, either. For the most part. When they were teens, I did allow them one curse word — that word being crap — that they could use when they rilly, rilly, rilly needed to let loose with exclamations of an unsavory sort.

My daughter Megan is more strict than I am. Sometimes surprisingly so. She has a far more restrictive expected code of behavior than I ever did with my girls. That's mostly, I think, because she's a teacher and sees the horrid lack of respect many school kids have for others (and themselves) nowadays.

Because Megan is so strict — and I say that with genuine admiration, dear Megan — I'm pretty sure Bubby and Mac will never, ever be allowed to say crap.

That said, though, there is one exclamation the boys are allowed to say, and it cracks me up each time it comes out of their mouths. During my visit with my grandsons a few weeks ago, I caught Mac on camera uttering the mighty words of frustration when I was trying to get him to say fire engine or fire truck (and, no, it's not that mangled curse word):

Oh, nuts! Just makes me chuckle every time.

Bubby says it, too, and it's always so unexpected coming out of the mouths of those little boys that I can't help but laugh.

What's especially funny is that, as you can see from Mac's face when I chuckle in the video above, my grandsons have no idea why Gramma finds that so funny.

Truth be told, I'm not exactly sure either.

Oh, nuts!

Yeah... it's just funny to me.

Oh, nuts!

I admit it: It doesn't take much to amuse this grandma.

Today's question:

What chuckle-worthy pseudo curse words come out of the mouths your little ones?

Spooky science experiments plus GRAND Social link party No. 76

With only a few days left until Halloween, it's time to squeeze in a bit more holiday fun with the kids before the creepy occasion has come and gone.

I received some Halloween treats from Kiddie Academy and with their permission, I'm sharing one with you today. It's a booklet of Spooky Science experiments using items you likely have around the house. Click on the following graphic to access the .pdf file (you'll need the free Adobe reader), then print it — or save to your computer — and try one or more  of the Halloween-themed experiments with the kids at your place.

Because my grandsons are far away, I've not tried these experiments with them, so please do share your success stories with me once you sample the spooky science fun with your kiddos. Enjoy!

Time now for GRAND Social No. 76. Thank you for participating!

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 rel="nofollow" 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."

Coming next week: Monsters University and Last Vegas

Welcome back to a Saturday post on Grandma's Briefs. I've taken weekends off from blogging since the beginning of summer. During that time, I most missed sharing movie trailers with you — which were often the primary subjects in my The Saturday Post posts because I love movies so.

In light of that, Grandma's Briefs is back on Saturdays, with a movie double feature!

Going forward (at least until we all tire of it), each Saturday I'll share with you my picks of the upcoming week's movie releases — one on DVD and one opening in the theaters. Some I've seen, some I plan to see. Either way, I count them as the best bets of the week's releases for Grandma's Briefs movie lovers.

MY PICKS OF NEXT WEEK'S MOVIE RELEASES 

Out on Blu-ray and DVD Tuesday, Oct. 29:

Monsters University
2-Disc Blu-ray + DVD + Digital Copy
Rated G
$24.99
www.MonstersUniversity.com

Opening in theaters Friday, November 1:

Last Vegas
Starring: Robert DeNiro, Michael Douglas, Kevin Kline, Morgan Freeman
Rated PG-13
105 minutes
www.LastVegasMovie.com

Enjoy your Saturday!

You get what you need when you need it most

What I learned this week

Maybe it was the fact I was home alone this week after spending several busy days with my grandsons last week. Or maybe it's hormones. Or perhaps it's the weather changing. Whatever the reason, I've been off my game for the past several days.

My primary off-game symptom has been feeling kind of down on myself about where I'm headed — or more accurately, not headed — with my writing. Having been a writer of one degree or another for the past few decades, I get that most writers get that way now and again. That's little consolation.

Wednesday, just as I was hitting bottom and frustrating even the dogs with my negative attitude all because I felt like I was writing <cuss> — if I was writing at all — I got an email notification of a new tweet on Twitter that mentioned me. As I was open to doing anything other than staring at a screen of my words that weren't stringing together satisfactorily, I clicked on over to Twitter and found this:

Tears came to my eyes. Seriously. That's how much that tweet meant to me, how much I needed to hear that my words matter, that my words make a difference somewhere, somehow, to someone.

The someone perplexed me. I have no idea who Rosie Kuhn is. I have never interacted with her on Twitter or elsewhere before. She doesn't follow me, I don't follow her. Well, we didn't before Wednesday.

But for some reason my words on being heartbroken when I learned I'd be a grandma resonated with Ms. Kuhn, possibly gave her something she needed. In return, she gave me — a total stranger — what I needed. When I needed it most.

That small tweet from her that meant big things to me was yet another in a long line of moments of late when I've gotten exactly what I needed when I needed it most. Not earthshaking victories of any sort, but confirmation what I need will come.

Because, yes, you get what you need when you need it most.

And you're reminded of that when you most need to remember it.

That is what I learned this week.

PS: I also learned this week that I want to go back to posting on Saturdays, after having taken the weekends off during the summer. Stay tuned for tomorrow's Saturday post, a feature you'll find here every Saturday going forward. I hope you enjoy it!

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

7 things to shake a stick at

I've found that folks in generations above and beyond mine often use turns of phrase that make me ponder. Or chuckle. Or Google. Or all of the above.

The latter was the case the other night as Jim and I watched the news. A reporter questioned a not-all-that-elderly-but-certainly-older-and-more-folksy-than-me eyewitness to an event, and the guy mentioned there being "more than you could shake a stick at" of something or another.

Now, it's not as if I've never heard that phrase. I've heard it millions of times, as we all have — most often uttered by older folk. But as images of cavemen shaking their sticks at fire or herds of antelope or whatever else they drew on their cave walls swirled about my noggin', I wondered where the phrase came from. So I Googled it.

Turns out the "more than you could shake a stick at" etymology isn't easy to pin down. Nor is exactly what it once meant, only what it now means, which is in official terms, one heck of a lot.

With that phrase stuck in my mind, I began considering a list of the things in my life that are so high in number I could play caveman and shake a stick at them. Some perfectly fit the label as "more than I could shake a stick at" usually refers to a number so high it can't be counted. Others on my list, though, are high in countable number yet still make me want to shake a stick at them because, well, they're so high in number.

7 THINGS OF WHICH I HAVE MORE THAN I COULD SHAKE A STICK AT*

Pine needles. With more pine trees on my property than, well, I could shake a stick at, I have quadruple that number in pine needles that need to be raked up and gotten rid of. Jim and I will be busy this weekend (and will likely shake sticks at one another in our sure state of displeasure).

Boxes. I receive at least one package a day. I save the boxes because you just never know when you might need to ship something or box up something. So the closet in my study contains boxes stacked ceiling high. And not all neat and tidy. No, I simply squish in another box as it arrives at my door and is unpacked. So each time I open that closet to add another box to the batch, I could use a stick — not for shaking but for staking the stack to keep it all from falling upon my head.

Books. I have a lot of books. I love books. I don't read enough books. I don't get rid of enough books. Some of the stacks of books around my house — because there's no more room on my bazillion book shelves — rival my stacks of boxes. Perhaps I need a book closet to go with my box closet. (Or maybe I need to fill my boxes with books thus condensing my stick shaking.)

Music. Jim and I were avid music fans long before we knew one another. We both brought into the marriage lots of music... on records. Since our union 30+ years ago, we added to the records lots of cassettes (some, like the records, we still have) and CDs, plus music on iPods, iPhones and iTunes on computers. Music is all over the place — upstairs, downstairs, outside in the stereo on the patio bar, out in the garage in the stereos in our cars. I shake a stick — more like a fist — each time I want to listen to a particular album. Then I usually give up and turn on the radio.

Stairs. The upstairs/downstairs locations of our music really are a challenge for we really do have a lot of stairs. In fact, I once wrote a post about all our stairs right here.

Traffic. We live near a busy boulevard. One of the busiest in our city. It's loud. It sucks. It makes us shake our fists, our sticks, and wish we could shake the city planners who need to put up a sound barrier. If we didn't love our house so very much, we'd move where there's less traffic.

Miles. We could always move near our grandsons for a little peace and quiet, at least from the traffic sounds. But, as I've mentioned before, that's not gonna happen. So I shake my stick at the miles between my grandsons and me. At last count those miles numbered 812. That's more than enough to shake a stick at. I do inside, often.

There are plenty of other things that I have more than I could shake a stick at. But as time is not something I have more than I could shake a stick at — and patience with my inane list-making is not likely something you have more than you could shake a stick at — I'll put a stick in it and end here.

Thanks for sticking with me til the end. I ♥ you more than I could shake a stick at!

*Now, the title of this post really should be that, but it was far too many words for the space.

Today's fill-in-the-blank:

I have more ___________ than I could shake a stick at.