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.

Batter up: Lefty and the full moon

Left-handed hitter Bubby brought it on home during batting practice last week, all while the full moon shone.

 

Today's question:

When did you last hit — or catch — a baseball, softball or T-ball?

Quick crafts with kids: Simple Halloween skeletons

Do you have extra cotton swabs on hand at your house? Those plus some glue and black (or any color) construction paper are pretty much the makings of a super simple skeleton craft for kids of most ages.

Here's the skinny on the skeletons my grandsons made in less than 20 minutes Saturday morning, inspired by this crafty post from Spoonful.

WHAT YOU NEED:

Several cotton swabs

glue (not a glue stick)

 white paper

black construction paper

black marker for drawing skeleton faces

WHAT YOU DO:

Put some glue in a small container that's easy for the child to dip into with the cotton swabs .

Dip each end of one cotton swab into the glue and place vertically on the black construction paper.

Add more cotton swab bones for legs and arms.

(Note: Two swabs per leg and arm make for a more accurate skeleton... ya know, the kind with elbows and knees. But does it matter if Mr. Bones can't bend his arms or legs? Not one bit.)

Don't feel like adding legs or arms? Do whatever you feel like doing... which may be swirling glue in spots around the paper just because it's fun to do when you're two.

At some point in the process — it doesn't matter the order — freehand draw a skeleton skull on the white paper. Cut out and glue in place.

Cut cotton swabs in half for the rib bones, to be glued horizontally on each side of the first swab placed on the paper.

Cut both ends off one swab for feet. Cut the remaining stick — and another stick — into "fingers" to be glued at the end of each arm.

Use the black marker to draw a spooky or silly face.

Explain to your brother why you drew the face the way you did.

Appreciate your work.

Even if it's work Gramma and your brother helped you do.

That's it!

Want another quick and easy Halloween craft? Try these Simple Spooky Spiders Bubby made last Halloween.

Today's question:

What's most prominent in your Halloween decor — skeletons, ghosts, zombies or pumpkins?

I'm baaack... as is GRAND Social No. 75

I'm back from visiting my grandsons in the desert. My bottom-line wrap-up: 'Twas a short but sweet time together.

In the four days I had with Bubby, Mac, Megan and Preston (plus Roxy the dog, too), I came away with 2,068 photos and 14 videos on my camera, plus 41 photos on my iPhone.

I'll be sharing those captured moments in months to come — so many recorded as it will be several months before I see the boys again — but today I want to share this one, which I think just might be my favorite of the massive bunch:

Oh, how I love these boys!

If you follow Grandma's Briefs on Facebook, you likely already saw this precious shot of the snuggle-bunny brothers. You may have even seen it in my sidebar (over there to the right), as I couldn't help but make it my new "Who's Who" shot of Gramma's favorite boys. Call it overkill, if you will; I call it a perfect picture I simply had to share again and again.

I hope your time while I was away was equally picture perfect, and I thank you again and again for joining me for this week's GRAND Social No. 75!

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."

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

Boys are just as crazy as girls

What I learned this week:

Having had three daughters, the childrearing years my husband and I faced were filled with lots of drama, plenty of boy-crazy moments.

As they've had only sons (so far), I thought Megan and Preston might escape the thrills, chills, and tear spills associated with the crazy crushes on the opposite sex. Mostly because I didn't think boys were as crazy about girls as girls are about boys. I thought concerns about cooties — as well as indifference to cuties — was par for the course for males under the age of, oh, maybe 14 or so.

Then I saw something yesterday that changed my mind.

Mac and I walked to pick up Bubby after school yesterday. Bubby and his classmates ran around while parents mingled or talked to the teacher — Megan, my daughter and Bubby's mom, whom I wanted to touch base with before heading back home with her sons. Mac joined the big kids, and as I waited, I caught the following, a foretelling of what Megan and Preston have in store:

So I admit I was wrong: Boys clearly get girl crazy — and far earlier than I ever would have imagined.

Thank you for reading! Enjoy your weekend!

Today's question:

How old were you when you had your first crush and who was it on?

Grandma shares a brush with the blues... and greens and reds

I landed in the desert Tuesday afternoon with two big suitcases jam-packed with fun stuff to share with my grandsons (gotta love Southwest's free baggage policy!). I kid you not when I say I packed into my bags more stuff to share with Bubby and Mac than I did clothing or toiletries for my five-day stay.

Now, my Grandma Bag is a given when visiting my grandsons, so that was squished into one of the two suitcases. And I'd recently received some Halloween review books — lots of books, heavy books — plus several review toys, DVDs, and other goodies. Those were packed, too.

My grandsons enjoy books just as much as they enjoy toys, so I knew the books would be a hit. I knew, too, the toys and games were sorts that would make them smile. What surprised me, though, was the response from grandsons when I shared with them a toiletry product I'd received in the mail mere days before my trip. I received it not for review — so this is not a review nor a sponsored post — but just to try and soon share my thoughts on the product with the makers and marketers.

So, despite all the crafty, creative, cool goodies I'd toted the 800+ miles from the mountains to the desert in hopes of entertaining my grandsons, what impressed them immediately and utterly was this:

Yes, that's toothpaste.

Bubby and Mac begged — and I do mean begged — to brush their teeth as soon as I showed them the colorful package. When they were finally allowed to use the special paste from Gramma for bedtime brushing, there was no stopping them.

Bubby and Mac tried every color, every flavor combination. They brushed fully and completely several times before finally accepting there'd be no more brushing for the night.

The first thing they wanted to do when they got up Wednesday morning? You guessed it: brush... with each color. Twice.

I still have several books and crafts and toys left to share from my suitcases (a grandma has to pace herself when sharing the spoils). I doubt any of those items yet to be enjoyed, though, will come even close to pleasing Bubby and Mac as much the colorful and tasty toothpaste that dazzled and delighted.

Their unexpected enthusiasm over toothpaste — toothpaste, of all things — dazzled and delighted me.

It also made me consider I've now paid my dues for foisting upon Megan and Preston the sugar-high aftermath of the farewell gift I presented my grandsons last time I departed the desert after a visit.

Added bonus: As the package of toothpaste included three full-size tubes, I'd say I'm protected from penalty for whatever sweet and sticky goodness I dole out to the boys upon leaving Saturday, as well.

Be afraid, Megan and Preston, be very afraid.

Today's question:

What is your toothpaste of choice?