Hi World!!!
We've moved!!! Our new address is http://grandparentingmatters.com
Hope to see you there!!!
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Granny-Mom and Poppa's magical powers
We know that grandparents are the ones that create the silly wonderful hullabaloo, , warm embraces, authentic aroma of freshly baked fare in the kitchen, gentle warm hugs along with the amusing tickles that bring the laughter of the young and the old combined. All of these alluring contacts launch the status of a grandparent way higher than a kite can fly.
To the child, your simple lines and loss of collagen give them evidence of your loving and caring self. For them it’s about your corresponding behavior that matches their silliness along with the deafening piercing shrills that cause their parents to say, “see you next week.” But before the next week arrives, mom or dad, and the kids bug granny to come and make dinner as they recall the the bouquet of scents from the kitchen that was delectably old fashioned and unlike anything that mom makes. Yum! That’s the job of an old fashioned granny. The modern grandparent skips the “freshly baked,” but definitely creates trails of sweet smells from mixes. You see, singing outlandish songs,baking, painting, and getting downright dirty and in the mud with the child,that’s the grandparent's job.
And ask a grandparent, what it’s like to be one? In most cases it is an unequivocal,”Amazing..” I wish I had been a grandparent before I became a parent. I would have gotten many more mother’s day presents.
Do grandparents who raise their grandchild, have as much fun as their counterpart grandparent?. The one that gets to play, eat and run! You bet they do! The dual role can create an opportunity for the child to play, eat and stay, and then you realize how much you missed with your own family. You are surprised at how good you are at being loving, and yet able to set rules without being frenetic. You learn how to create a boundary that defines your role, and provides a deep sense of security and confidence in your authority and love. As you continue to get challenged, you need to maintain a sense of humor. You'll need it. And it's important to explain things to the child on their age level. And do not give more information than they need.
If the child maintains healthy contact and visitation with the parents, create opportunities that are fun. Make sure you follow up with the child, especially the young ones to see how they deal with the separation. This is a bit like a joint custody. Do whatever is in the best interest of the child. Not yours. And not your own adult child's. Just make sure the child you are entrusted with has your full attention.
In our situation, when mom or dad are involved, it is a beautiful time for all. It gets testy, when either say good-bye. So we read lots, and lots, and talk a great deal of how everyone says "Hi and good-bye." We make up many many songs. Tears still flow. No one ever replaces one another. You learn how to live the great moment with the family. Building great coping skills for the child helps create memories that are healthy...so phrasing like "this is a great moment," teaches living in the present.
What's a granny- mom or poppa 's role? How does one make the transition from a crisis situation as easy as possible for an infant through the toddler stage in order to promote the emotional health of the child?
The relationship with your grandchild ranges from lots of cuddles to managing the porcupine needles from some effects of the past.
One thing, for sure, you need to be on top of things, every minute.
Being on top of things every minute:A child's moods shift on a continual basis. Hug, talk, read, play classical music and go for walks.
Second thing, you need to create a separate life from the child.
Creating a life, separate and a part of your children, and grandchildren is a necessary part of healthy parenting as well as a grandparenting role. And it doesn't have to be expensive. Create a time for yourselves, that is just quiet time. If babysitters are a problem, share play date friends and exchange baby sitting time for credits toward extra free hours. Plan ahead with your spouse.That's part of the fun. And create meaningful activities at least once a month and if you can, try more.
My husband and I love to play board games, go to Starbucks, walk around the pier or the ocean, and we do love a good movie. (There haven't been a lot of them around and they can be expensive.) And don't forget those wonderful words that are so” inexpensive.."I love you, I care about you, and I need you." That makes you want to be with each so much more.
Time is short. The time you have to raise your children, and be with your spouse is a gift. So absolutely live IN the present or you won’t notice the gift you have. Make the time and don’t look back. Without a doubt, you will create a wonderful balance as well as having an important effect on your new family.
Being granny-parents can on pose a challenge . Through the child's lens it can pose a conflict of interest. But what I have found, is with patience, time, and a good memory that most children grow up in spite of all you do. Grandparents who are in a normal role of grandparenting can be one step removed . If you are the lucky one to visit your family, be with the kiddos for several hours, and if you favor not butting in to their life, you can play and go home. Relax, now it's your time. It is a delicious experience.
So no matter which role you are in, ENJOY! If becoming a grandparent is a choice, I suggest that you make it number one on the hit list! If you are a first time parent, talk to your parents about their love for you and their grandchild. That always makes a grand slam home-run.
I
To the child, your simple lines and loss of collagen give them evidence of your loving and caring self. For them it’s about your corresponding behavior that matches their silliness along with the deafening piercing shrills that cause their parents to say, “see you next week.” But before the next week arrives, mom or dad, and the kids bug granny to come and make dinner as they recall the the bouquet of scents from the kitchen that was delectably old fashioned and unlike anything that mom makes. Yum! That’s the job of an old fashioned granny. The modern grandparent skips the “freshly baked,” but definitely creates trails of sweet smells from mixes. You see, singing outlandish songs,baking, painting, and getting downright dirty and in the mud with the child,that’s the grandparent's job.
And ask a grandparent, what it’s like to be one? In most cases it is an unequivocal,”Amazing..” I wish I had been a grandparent before I became a parent. I would have gotten many more mother’s day presents.
Do grandparents who raise their grandchild, have as much fun as their counterpart grandparent?. The one that gets to play, eat and run! You bet they do! The dual role can create an opportunity for the child to play, eat and stay, and then you realize how much you missed with your own family. You are surprised at how good you are at being loving, and yet able to set rules without being frenetic. You learn how to create a boundary that defines your role, and provides a deep sense of security and confidence in your authority and love. As you continue to get challenged, you need to maintain a sense of humor. You'll need it. And it's important to explain things to the child on their age level. And do not give more information than they need.
If the child maintains healthy contact and visitation with the parents, create opportunities that are fun. Make sure you follow up with the child, especially the young ones to see how they deal with the separation. This is a bit like a joint custody. Do whatever is in the best interest of the child. Not yours. And not your own adult child's. Just make sure the child you are entrusted with has your full attention.
In our situation, when mom or dad are involved, it is a beautiful time for all. It gets testy, when either say good-bye. So we read lots, and lots, and talk a great deal of how everyone says "Hi and good-bye." We make up many many songs. Tears still flow. No one ever replaces one another. You learn how to live the great moment with the family. Building great coping skills for the child helps create memories that are healthy...so phrasing like "this is a great moment," teaches living in the present.
What's a granny- mom or poppa 's role? How does one make the transition from a crisis situation as easy as possible for an infant through the toddler stage in order to promote the emotional health of the child?
The relationship with your grandchild ranges from lots of cuddles to managing the porcupine needles from some effects of the past.
One thing, for sure, you need to be on top of things, every minute.
Being on top of things every minute:A child's moods shift on a continual basis. Hug, talk, read, play classical music and go for walks.
Second thing, you need to create a separate life from the child.
Creating a life, separate and a part of your children, and grandchildren is a necessary part of healthy parenting as well as a grandparenting role. And it doesn't have to be expensive. Create a time for yourselves, that is just quiet time. If babysitters are a problem, share play date friends and exchange baby sitting time for credits toward extra free hours. Plan ahead with your spouse.That's part of the fun. And create meaningful activities at least once a month and if you can, try more.
My husband and I love to play board games, go to Starbucks, walk around the pier or the ocean, and we do love a good movie. (There haven't been a lot of them around and they can be expensive.) And don't forget those wonderful words that are so” inexpensive.."I love you, I care about you, and I need you." That makes you want to be with each so much more.
Time is short. The time you have to raise your children, and be with your spouse is a gift. So absolutely live IN the present or you won’t notice the gift you have. Make the time and don’t look back. Without a doubt, you will create a wonderful balance as well as having an important effect on your new family.
Being granny-parents can on pose a challenge . Through the child's lens it can pose a conflict of interest. But what I have found, is with patience, time, and a good memory that most children grow up in spite of all you do. Grandparents who are in a normal role of grandparenting can be one step removed . If you are the lucky one to visit your family, be with the kiddos for several hours, and if you favor not butting in to their life, you can play and go home. Relax, now it's your time. It is a delicious experience.
So no matter which role you are in, ENJOY! If becoming a grandparent is a choice, I suggest that you make it number one on the hit list! If you are a first time parent, talk to your parents about their love for you and their grandchild. That always makes a grand slam home-run.
I
Sunday, August 3, 2008
What's in a word: OLD
I see the word old, and I downright don't like it! I look at the acronym and I say
O is for OOPS..
L is for too Late
D is for the expletive I can't write, so I'll just say it's not ducky!
All right! So what category do I fit in? I look in the mirror, and I see a few lines, not too many, a couple spaces between my teeth, a few more red spots, I guess those are genetic links to my mother, a tad more thin skin so when I bump myself everyone knows it, and a varicose veined leg which looks as if it has been pathetically tattooed. Now, on the other hand, the skin is smooth, the teeth are straight, I can walk fast enough to keep up with my four year old, use a personal trainer to keep my slightly rounded body in better shape, and my mind is free so far of the cobwebs. I know this looks as if I ‘m competing for a compliment,. Please……go right ahead.
Now, the words I use today more often is "save face", but that more correctly means, "please lord, no extra lines". I’m not looking for surgery.
'Give me a hand', probably has been more commonly used in my toddler’s ballet class when I bend down to tie her shoe. While they are all applauding her, someone is helping my somewhat overstuffed body from the floor. No more hands free.
'Giving lip service', is more about drawing a line around my lip to define it.
And 'standing up for myself' probably means someone has to help me assume a vertical position.
Age is a funny concept, I think. In some cultures, growing “old” is a sign of status, and is revered. Our culture treats it closely to the legal term considered to be an adult. As a matter of fact I looked up the word in the thesaurus and it states “condition of having lived many years. So now I know what is wrong with the baby boomers, we all have a condition…
Now the thing I am trying to figure about my condition, is it in the early, neophyte stages, or is it in the late stages. Is this aging condition permanent? By that, I mean, am I able to restore that state of being young. And the answer is a strong, “no’ and I’m not about to try.
What I have been able to do is to become enlightened through the gift of our grandchild. For a decade, I wondered what the passage to the next phase in life would look like. The picture was a different one which was painted in my imagination, of course. It included all the trips and material things that were collected and sorted out, and divided among family members. It included a review of all of our lives in the family as well…rehashed and rehashed. Don’t get me wrong, I loved going through pictures, ad nausea, but at some point, the life cycle is the reason I think we are on earth. The move from birth, life, death, and life again.
And that’s where our four year old reshaped our future expectation, and redefined "older" from those nasty synonyms for aged, elderly , mature, getting on and you’re not getting any younger any more!
Fancy that!
When you feel young at heart, but you don’t fall into young, or ancient, and you realize that you have responded to every crisis there is, from the energy crisis, to the recession, to the care of the elderly parent, to the care of your children’s children, you still perform all of the roles more than exemplary. I figure these are the real passages in life:
Stage one: Young /fresh
Stage two: Early inexperienced/novice, early bloom
Stage three: Middle/ heart
Stage four : Rolling/ middle that’s us! Still rolling with much experience, quite vital, and rejuvenated
Stage five: Blossoming veterans who will continue to bloom through generations to come.
At any one of these stages, where we chance stepping into the joy of granny mom… or pop, I think the traditional concept of aging defies itself. The child gives you a belly laugh, and you don’t even give a thought to big your belly is!
It’s just that that child knows how big your heart is.
O is for OOPS..
L is for too Late
D is for the expletive I can't write, so I'll just say it's not ducky!
All right! So what category do I fit in? I look in the mirror, and I see a few lines, not too many, a couple spaces between my teeth, a few more red spots, I guess those are genetic links to my mother, a tad more thin skin so when I bump myself everyone knows it, and a varicose veined leg which looks as if it has been pathetically tattooed. Now, on the other hand, the skin is smooth, the teeth are straight, I can walk fast enough to keep up with my four year old, use a personal trainer to keep my slightly rounded body in better shape, and my mind is free so far of the cobwebs. I know this looks as if I ‘m competing for a compliment,. Please……go right ahead.
Now, the words I use today more often is "save face", but that more correctly means, "please lord, no extra lines". I’m not looking for surgery.
'Give me a hand', probably has been more commonly used in my toddler’s ballet class when I bend down to tie her shoe. While they are all applauding her, someone is helping my somewhat overstuffed body from the floor. No more hands free.
'Giving lip service', is more about drawing a line around my lip to define it.
And 'standing up for myself' probably means someone has to help me assume a vertical position.
Age is a funny concept, I think. In some cultures, growing “old” is a sign of status, and is revered. Our culture treats it closely to the legal term considered to be an adult. As a matter of fact I looked up the word in the thesaurus and it states “condition of having lived many years. So now I know what is wrong with the baby boomers, we all have a condition…
Now the thing I am trying to figure about my condition, is it in the early, neophyte stages, or is it in the late stages. Is this aging condition permanent? By that, I mean, am I able to restore that state of being young. And the answer is a strong, “no’ and I’m not about to try.
What I have been able to do is to become enlightened through the gift of our grandchild. For a decade, I wondered what the passage to the next phase in life would look like. The picture was a different one which was painted in my imagination, of course. It included all the trips and material things that were collected and sorted out, and divided among family members. It included a review of all of our lives in the family as well…rehashed and rehashed. Don’t get me wrong, I loved going through pictures, ad nausea, but at some point, the life cycle is the reason I think we are on earth. The move from birth, life, death, and life again.
And that’s where our four year old reshaped our future expectation, and redefined "older" from those nasty synonyms for aged, elderly , mature, getting on and you’re not getting any younger any more!
Fancy that!
When you feel young at heart, but you don’t fall into young, or ancient, and you realize that you have responded to every crisis there is, from the energy crisis, to the recession, to the care of the elderly parent, to the care of your children’s children, you still perform all of the roles more than exemplary. I figure these are the real passages in life:
Stage one: Young /fresh
Stage two: Early inexperienced/novice, early bloom
Stage three: Middle/ heart
Stage four : Rolling/ middle that’s us! Still rolling with much experience, quite vital, and rejuvenated
Stage five: Blossoming veterans who will continue to bloom through generations to come.
At any one of these stages, where we chance stepping into the joy of granny mom… or pop, I think the traditional concept of aging defies itself. The child gives you a belly laugh, and you don’t even give a thought to big your belly is!
It’s just that that child knows how big your heart is.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Earthquake, Earth Shattering!
Last week there was a 5.8 earthquake, here in Orange County, California. Any time a disaster occurs, I suppose,, it is easy to pinpoint where you were at what time. I was stuffing my mouth with the remainder of the tuna fish salad that my granddaughter and I made for her lunch. I ignored the first thump, and continued to munch on the carrots.
The second jolt raised my ire, and I dismissed any thought of anything other than a sonic boom from an airplane that just flew too close to my house. That thought passed quickly once my housekeeper crashed our vacuum cleaner into the wall with a resounding thump and began speaking faster and addressing me more frenetically in Spanish rather than English. As I followed her racing thoughts to get my grandchild immediately, I could see her judgment was clear and balanced. Mine not so much . Now , I am still thinking that we have an airplane above my house that is creating the noise. So I have no idea why I have to pick up our little one. But when I saw the fear in her eyes, I bolted for the car. One more loud boom led me to believe there was some seismic activity.
Now I don't know about how any of you rate yourself on earthquake performance. But the earth IS NOT THE ONLY THING THAT SHAKES. I begin trembling But I have planned for this day since I moved here during the Northridge Earthquake about some fifteen years ago.
In usual fashion, the Welcome Wagon was not the first thing that greeted my husband and me into the state of California . Rather, the rattling and shaking of our beds was not consistent with the lull of soothing rocking motion. At first the deep sleep kept us in a dazed, comfy, surreal state. Then the fully conscious , alert and startled me awoke and started shaking.
The rock and sway and roar of the earthquake sent us soaring and tumbling, while the air rumbled with as strong a sound as a train rolling through our home. I can remember my husband yelling,"stand under the doorway. I couldn't find him. Where was he? Under a table??? Now I find out that the doorway is a good way to die! Good strategic performance for families under stress?????
Well time is a great healer . So we settled in almost as good as native Californians. We got over it, Life went on as usual, and our family had planned for future safety measures. The flashlights, water, cars filled up with clothes, all of the best intentions,but none of that happened. We did bolt our wall units, so that they didn't fall on us.
But there is a chill that goes through every part of your body, when you believe that your child is not safe. Your mind goes to places you have never traveled on your own. . A child out of sight for just the slightest moment; stranger danger; terrorism. If I thought about each of these things when my first family was growing up, I would have hid them in a closet. Fortunately, our mind can be retrained and allow us to live a normal life. It's the great adjustment. The normalization of the dramatic events that could occur are washed away so that our children can go to school, have play dates and go on as usual. And we all grow up hopefully to be only mildly neurotic.
Despite the fact that one has been a parent a million years ago, does not lessen the fright. The mind is a very creative , detailed, and strong at times.
The rude awakening of an earthquake with a child, is another kind of scare. They can be so far away, and what would I do. When it was just my husband and me, we only had each other to worry about. But now all rationale is out the door. Normal does not make it.
So I drove as fast as I can to the school, 20 miles away. There she was! Smiles!
The teachers prepared the children for what was going to be a normal life for our little girl. She adjusted well. And I stopped quaking, and realized I had a mom moment. A first time , second time and third time mom moment. After all I’m a granny-mom.
The second jolt raised my ire, and I dismissed any thought of anything other than a sonic boom from an airplane that just flew too close to my house. That thought passed quickly once my housekeeper crashed our vacuum cleaner into the wall with a resounding thump and began speaking faster and addressing me more frenetically in Spanish rather than English. As I followed her racing thoughts to get my grandchild immediately, I could see her judgment was clear and balanced. Mine not so much . Now , I am still thinking that we have an airplane above my house that is creating the noise. So I have no idea why I have to pick up our little one. But when I saw the fear in her eyes, I bolted for the car. One more loud boom led me to believe there was some seismic activity.
Now I don't know about how any of you rate yourself on earthquake performance. But the earth IS NOT THE ONLY THING THAT SHAKES. I begin trembling But I have planned for this day since I moved here during the Northridge Earthquake about some fifteen years ago.
In usual fashion, the Welcome Wagon was not the first thing that greeted my husband and me into the state of California . Rather, the rattling and shaking of our beds was not consistent with the lull of soothing rocking motion. At first the deep sleep kept us in a dazed, comfy, surreal state. Then the fully conscious , alert and startled me awoke and started shaking.
The rock and sway and roar of the earthquake sent us soaring and tumbling, while the air rumbled with as strong a sound as a train rolling through our home. I can remember my husband yelling,"stand under the doorway. I couldn't find him. Where was he? Under a table??? Now I find out that the doorway is a good way to die! Good strategic performance for families under stress?????
Well time is a great healer . So we settled in almost as good as native Californians. We got over it, Life went on as usual, and our family had planned for future safety measures. The flashlights, water, cars filled up with clothes, all of the best intentions,but none of that happened. We did bolt our wall units, so that they didn't fall on us.
But there is a chill that goes through every part of your body, when you believe that your child is not safe. Your mind goes to places you have never traveled on your own. . A child out of sight for just the slightest moment; stranger danger; terrorism. If I thought about each of these things when my first family was growing up, I would have hid them in a closet. Fortunately, our mind can be retrained and allow us to live a normal life. It's the great adjustment. The normalization of the dramatic events that could occur are washed away so that our children can go to school, have play dates and go on as usual. And we all grow up hopefully to be only mildly neurotic.
Despite the fact that one has been a parent a million years ago, does not lessen the fright. The mind is a very creative , detailed, and strong at times.
The rude awakening of an earthquake with a child, is another kind of scare. They can be so far away, and what would I do. When it was just my husband and me, we only had each other to worry about. But now all rationale is out the door. Normal does not make it.
So I drove as fast as I can to the school, 20 miles away. There she was! Smiles!
The teachers prepared the children for what was going to be a normal life for our little girl. She adjusted well. And I stopped quaking, and realized I had a mom moment. A first time , second time and third time mom moment. After all I’m a granny-mom.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
She keeps us in stitches!
It's not a surprise that the birthday bash was a complete success. Almost! The children's' imagination ran wild as they became magical princesses and pirates. The cake oozed with frosting, and perhaps one or two of the children, including ours, simply licked the cake's frosting until it lathered over a thin layer of her great lips..and she slapped her signature crinkled smile.
Mixed blessing this day. She's made so many new friends, and has grown developmentally in just a few weeks. Is it us, the teachers, or is the age four magic? We choose to look at this child we are raising and say that she has been given the gift of good constitution, great temperament, and nouveau patient grandparents. Why nouveau ? Patience is not in the vocabulary of a first time parent. New parents generally practice their parents' parenting skills on their own children and become more skilled, confident, and professional as grandparents. That insight came to me at the birth of my granddaughter. Don't get me wrong, I think we, my spouse and I, were good parents, but one occasionally questions, were we good enough?
Oh, we did things with our kids, we biked, hiked, snowmobiled, went to all the games, did the PTA, PTO, Brownies, Cub scouts, and I even did the leader stuff. So no regrets when the kids pulled a "you didn't do this or that!"
The coup d'etat came the day on our granddaughter's fourth birthday as my husband set off for the car filled with a surprise for the little one's birthday present Simultaneously, the car is brought to a halt, right in front of the child. Just then, he pushes the lever for the trunk and like a jack in the box, the "Barbie Bike popped out of the trunk. Our newly titled bicyclist begins to applaud as if it is a performance she has just seen, and unconsciously runs for her helmet. She knows how to jump on this two wheeler. Poppa and Nana are so surprised. Just so poppa is not outdone by his little girl,he adjusts his body, gives a loud howl with stretched out arms, and then applies the metal to the pedal on his "old, rusty, race bike. Old and rusty is an understatement. It went back to the days my son and daughter rode as my husband and I sandwiched them in between so we could make sure they were safe. We were on solid, safe, straight land in Northern Suburban Chicago. We trained for many months on this wonderful bike, to do a ten day trip in Vermont. That's a whole other story for you to follow. And you definitely want to tune in for that. But there is enough suspense to continue this day.
Poppa and his grace head for their bikes. The untrained youth scrambled ahead, while Poppa kept pulling on the chain now hugging his leg.. Those old racer bikes were something else. They both reach the red light point, where everyone has to stop, and the child looks up at her grandfather. and says "ooh Poppa, you have a bad boo-boo"
Pale, he headed for the house filled with children, who were playfully awaiting the return of the birthday girl.
A lot of pitter patter from the miniature M.D.'s ready for emergency treatment prompted a quick rescue for the injured grown person. Each child brought out their medical kit as I raced to heal the wound. The rest of us expert advisers gave recommendations. "Possible amputation, tetanus shot, and nothing short of a dozen stitches."
All the kids kept us in stitches as they examined the wound, and off went the injured to the emergency room. All in all our grown up grandpa survived eleven stitches, a tetanus shot, and a whole lot of bike. The little people got a whole lot of training on proper wheels for grandpa.
Mixed blessing this day. She's made so many new friends, and has grown developmentally in just a few weeks. Is it us, the teachers, or is the age four magic? We choose to look at this child we are raising and say that she has been given the gift of good constitution, great temperament, and nouveau patient grandparents. Why nouveau ? Patience is not in the vocabulary of a first time parent. New parents generally practice their parents' parenting skills on their own children and become more skilled, confident, and professional as grandparents. That insight came to me at the birth of my granddaughter. Don't get me wrong, I think we, my spouse and I, were good parents, but one occasionally questions, were we good enough?
Oh, we did things with our kids, we biked, hiked, snowmobiled, went to all the games, did the PTA, PTO, Brownies, Cub scouts, and I even did the leader stuff. So no regrets when the kids pulled a "you didn't do this or that!"
The coup d'etat came the day on our granddaughter's fourth birthday as my husband set off for the car filled with a surprise for the little one's birthday present Simultaneously, the car is brought to a halt, right in front of the child. Just then, he pushes the lever for the trunk and like a jack in the box, the "Barbie Bike popped out of the trunk. Our newly titled bicyclist begins to applaud as if it is a performance she has just seen, and unconsciously runs for her helmet. She knows how to jump on this two wheeler. Poppa and Nana are so surprised. Just so poppa is not outdone by his little girl,he adjusts his body, gives a loud howl with stretched out arms, and then applies the metal to the pedal on his "old, rusty, race bike. Old and rusty is an understatement. It went back to the days my son and daughter rode as my husband and I sandwiched them in between so we could make sure they were safe. We were on solid, safe, straight land in Northern Suburban Chicago. We trained for many months on this wonderful bike, to do a ten day trip in Vermont. That's a whole other story for you to follow. And you definitely want to tune in for that. But there is enough suspense to continue this day.
Poppa and his grace head for their bikes. The untrained youth scrambled ahead, while Poppa kept pulling on the chain now hugging his leg.. Those old racer bikes were something else. They both reach the red light point, where everyone has to stop, and the child looks up at her grandfather. and says "ooh Poppa, you have a bad boo-boo"
Pale, he headed for the house filled with children, who were playfully awaiting the return of the birthday girl.
A lot of pitter patter from the miniature M.D.'s ready for emergency treatment prompted a quick rescue for the injured grown person. Each child brought out their medical kit as I raced to heal the wound. The rest of us expert advisers gave recommendations. "Possible amputation, tetanus shot, and nothing short of a dozen stitches."
All the kids kept us in stitches as they examined the wound, and off went the injured to the emergency room. All in all our grown up grandpa survived eleven stitches, a tetanus shot, and a whole lot of bike. The little people got a whole lot of training on proper wheels for grandpa.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
WHAT TIME IS IT?
My reputation is important to me. I'd like to think I would stake my life on it. I put faith in others who have similar values.So when someone hears my name, it is my hope that they would have a smile on their face.
Well, perhaps they do. But not for the reasons I was hoping throughout the years.
Somehow, my name became synonymous with "late,tardy,time challenged". When I finally do reach the destination, I fancy disappearing before those familiar frosted looks appear. Now I am obligated to justify and explain why I was not on time. I don't. I feel sapped, like an untrained marathon runner.
Being a Granny-mom should give some leeway for empathy on the subject of tardy. I am awarded some ,but not much , permission to deviate off course.
Oops, I am telling tooooo much, but I hope not too late.
So I thought I'd get my wisdom from my four year old who is pressing hard for me to be on time today. Despite her effort to boss me around this morning, her demands run fast and furious, requesting the menu in order of juice, egg, potty, and one more reminder "Let's not to be late, Nana. The teacher don't like it."
Now when you hear that from a four year old, it gets your attention. It's a reminder that she's paying attention to what's important.
I toy with the idea, of tidying house just a bit before I leave. And then I hear the yelp."Nana,the dog has to go out too!"
O.K I got up before dawn in order to be reasonably on time. I had personal things which had to be done, none of which I can mention in writing. That takes time. Then the breakfast making, and unfashionable fashion dressing.
And now I grab my tot , we hug, and she's smiling. It's a good start, and we're off. In the car,buckled up, I am that is. I turn around and realize the the wee one has not been secured. Out I go, readjust. Take a breath. Because now I am exhausted. ready for bed. School is at nine, and it is 8:45. I take the usual route, reach the freeway, about five minutes away. And I hurriedly make a legal U turn, after noticing the Cinderella lunch was missing.
Our tot is wide awake, and her eyes are fixated on the abrupt change. She notices the frantic turn and says , "Nana, don't go back. We'll be late." I'm stumped, no lunch or be on time. Lunch wins.
Personally, I'm proud of this four year old who is figuring out what I had a lifetime of learning. Looking at these little ones, studying them, listening to them, even through the tantrums, can be prophetic.
Being on time models an important value for the toddlers for the rest of their life.
But nothing can produce a smile quicker than when you arrive at your destination, on time. In order to bring about good character, it's important to learn how to grow .The fact that one has a lifetime of bad habits, doesn't mean transformation is overruled.
Punctuality is an honor to others in your presence.
To be on time means that one must make time , and then take time.
Take time to listen to the breath of a child
Take time to listen to the thoughts and wisdom of the elderly.
Take time to hear your heart beat.
Making time for the ones you love is of the essence .
Well, perhaps they do. But not for the reasons I was hoping throughout the years.
Somehow, my name became synonymous with "late,tardy,time challenged". When I finally do reach the destination, I fancy disappearing before those familiar frosted looks appear. Now I am obligated to justify and explain why I was not on time. I don't. I feel sapped, like an untrained marathon runner.
Being a Granny-mom should give some leeway for empathy on the subject of tardy. I am awarded some ,but not much , permission to deviate off course.
Oops, I am telling tooooo much, but I hope not too late.
So I thought I'd get my wisdom from my four year old who is pressing hard for me to be on time today. Despite her effort to boss me around this morning, her demands run fast and furious, requesting the menu in order of juice, egg, potty, and one more reminder "Let's not to be late, Nana. The teacher don't like it."
Now when you hear that from a four year old, it gets your attention. It's a reminder that she's paying attention to what's important.
I toy with the idea, of tidying house just a bit before I leave. And then I hear the yelp."Nana,the dog has to go out too!"
O.K I got up before dawn in order to be reasonably on time. I had personal things which had to be done, none of which I can mention in writing. That takes time. Then the breakfast making, and unfashionable fashion dressing.
And now I grab my tot , we hug, and she's smiling. It's a good start, and we're off. In the car,buckled up, I am that is. I turn around and realize the the wee one has not been secured. Out I go, readjust. Take a breath. Because now I am exhausted. ready for bed. School is at nine, and it is 8:45. I take the usual route, reach the freeway, about five minutes away. And I hurriedly make a legal U turn, after noticing the Cinderella lunch was missing.
Our tot is wide awake, and her eyes are fixated on the abrupt change. She notices the frantic turn and says , "Nana, don't go back. We'll be late." I'm stumped, no lunch or be on time. Lunch wins.
Personally, I'm proud of this four year old who is figuring out what I had a lifetime of learning. Looking at these little ones, studying them, listening to them, even through the tantrums, can be prophetic.
Being on time models an important value for the toddlers for the rest of their life.
But nothing can produce a smile quicker than when you arrive at your destination, on time. In order to bring about good character, it's important to learn how to grow .The fact that one has a lifetime of bad habits, doesn't mean transformation is overruled.
Punctuality is an honor to others in your presence.
To be on time means that one must make time , and then take time.
Take time to listen to the breath of a child
Take time to listen to the thoughts and wisdom of the elderly.
Take time to hear your heart beat.
Making time for the ones you love is of the essence .
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Finally Four
Hooray! Hooray! Our tot is finally past the no no stage, acting out, tantrums! I'm suspecting that she will be able to be logical, reasonable, and express her hyperboles. Also, I'm quite hopeful that the verbal exchange between us will be quite comprehensible.
Tot! Tot!
Having said all of the above, our little boss lady is arranging her "birth-ganza". She's made all of the inquiries as to the invitees; she does not miss a beat. She does not want to hurt any feelings. What a sensitive child!
If you haven't had a toddler in the recent years closer to the millennium, then you are probably in for the shock of your life. Somewhat in competition with the gas prices, is toddler event planning. In our toddlers father's day, and my daughter's day, it was quite the rage to have birthday parties at home with those silly hats that cost twenty five cents. We invited the neighborhood children, because there was a neighborhood with children.
The lunch consisted of peanut butter and jelly, (no one mentioned that there were allergies), potato chips, and a drink. The cake with the frosting was gobbled down before you could blow the candles out. The kids played pin the tail on the donkey, bobbing for apples, and I digress, oh yes, musical chairs. They laughed, drooled, slurred s's, got their l's mixed up with w's, and were proud of the big white milk mustache. Including the girls. Giggles, all the way.
They got their goodie bag which had stocked a few suckers, a generous portion of pez stuffed inside the frivolous container. The magic buttons, waxed lips, and snaps made the grand total of a fabulous four year old party costing a grand total of fifty dollars. Wow! That is a high guess.
Compare that to the two months I have spent, along with my sister in law, looking into the many places where parties are to be had. From Team OC to Scooters Jungle, Gymboree, to Bears Buddies and Toys, we made the tour. Nothing under $300.00 and that is not including the cake. Of course there is French's Bakery, or Donna B's or Heidelberg...nothing too good for our tot, and nothing under $60.00. And that's an understatement.
Does this sound like I'm complaining. In an economy that is changing on a minute by minute basis? No , not me. But remember my adorable husband. This part, he's not so cute!
Now he expects to hone in on expenses. Can you even try ? The places, each one offers a bigger better picture of what you would want for let's say your teenager. I thought I was planning a confirmation, or wedding. What's going to happen for her stepping out debut!
A wildly fascinating experience. A delightfully delicious delectable event to be delivered Saturday. Happy Birth=ganza....to the greatest little tot!
Tot! Tot!
Having said all of the above, our little boss lady is arranging her "birth-ganza". She's made all of the inquiries as to the invitees; she does not miss a beat. She does not want to hurt any feelings. What a sensitive child!
If you haven't had a toddler in the recent years closer to the millennium, then you are probably in for the shock of your life. Somewhat in competition with the gas prices, is toddler event planning. In our toddlers father's day, and my daughter's day, it was quite the rage to have birthday parties at home with those silly hats that cost twenty five cents. We invited the neighborhood children, because there was a neighborhood with children.
The lunch consisted of peanut butter and jelly, (no one mentioned that there were allergies), potato chips, and a drink. The cake with the frosting was gobbled down before you could blow the candles out. The kids played pin the tail on the donkey, bobbing for apples, and I digress, oh yes, musical chairs. They laughed, drooled, slurred s's, got their l's mixed up with w's, and were proud of the big white milk mustache. Including the girls. Giggles, all the way.
They got their goodie bag which had stocked a few suckers, a generous portion of pez stuffed inside the frivolous container. The magic buttons, waxed lips, and snaps made the grand total of a fabulous four year old party costing a grand total of fifty dollars. Wow! That is a high guess.
Compare that to the two months I have spent, along with my sister in law, looking into the many places where parties are to be had. From Team OC to Scooters Jungle, Gymboree, to Bears Buddies and Toys, we made the tour. Nothing under $300.00 and that is not including the cake. Of course there is French's Bakery, or Donna B's or Heidelberg...nothing too good for our tot, and nothing under $60.00. And that's an understatement.
Does this sound like I'm complaining. In an economy that is changing on a minute by minute basis? No , not me. But remember my adorable husband. This part, he's not so cute!
Now he expects to hone in on expenses. Can you even try ? The places, each one offers a bigger better picture of what you would want for let's say your teenager. I thought I was planning a confirmation, or wedding. What's going to happen for her stepping out debut!
A wildly fascinating experience. A delightfully delicious delectable event to be delivered Saturday. Happy Birth=ganza....to the greatest little tot!
Monday, July 21, 2008
Embracing Change
What's wrong with change? After all, the world has been changing since it's been on its axis. So if we want to move beyond dinosaurs, we need to stop our relic behavior.
We change from the moment we are born. That beautiful little melted butter spot on the nose fades from peach to plum , to pimples.
We change our friends from elementary school through the years of college and beyond.
We change our minds constantly. And we don't complain to ourselves when we're in doubt.
We arrive at the conclusion that everyone else is uninformed.
We change marital partners on a whim.
We change candidates every so often.And often not enough.
We change the names of sports teams.
We change our language to become more politically correct.
The biggest change I noticed over the years was the weight shifting without permission. I feed my body on demand. I give it whatever it likes. So why does it have such a bad disposition and turn on me?
How about those extra trimmings on our bodies. And I'm not talking tattoos. From the uninvited hair on the lips, to the ones in the ears, nose and god knows where else? What do we do with those intruders?
But when it comes to change, we create our own rules and standards. We create a life script during our childhood and often expect it to be exactly that way.
We'll be happy.
We'll be rich
We'll marry,have 2 perfect children , a magnificent home, two plus fantastic
cars, a dog, and a nanny
We'll live till the age of centurion..with all our teeth.
Nothing wrong with optimism.
But circumstances change in second . It doesn't take a second to make us depressed. The marriage fails, the spouse gets sick, the child is a hellion, the subprime mortgages fail, the dog bites, and the Nanny is flirting with the next door neighbor instead of taking care of your child.
But who said what we pictured was accurate? If that were the case there would be no wars, and illness would be history.
The last couple of decades have brought my husband and I a few surprises. We have had to change our careers, our plans for our future, and our plans for a traditional retirement. The bombshell keeps erupting. Some of our friends have asked if we live under a dark cloud. My husband says, he's positive the sun shines somewhere south and he intends to find it.
My husband is a man of character. He loves his past,he's great at managing the present, and looks forward always to the future. He's been successful in the eyes of business and he's been a hard worker, and great father, and a wonderful husband. He's succeeded in his twenties, thirties, forties, and fifties. Late fifties, financial changes caused a pit in our stomachs, and a change in the direction of living. He and I challenged fate, and began our own businesses. It took close to a decade to build up what we lost.
Attitude adjustment and embracing change is what we have come to learn works.And a sense of humor.
This spouse of mine does not blame, scorn, nor shame. We both believe that events that occur outside of our control create a ripple effect that forces us to challenge our beliefs.
Raising a toddler, lets us know that change is inevitable. One minute she's is as happy as a lark. The next minute, she says, "Nana, don't look at me". This quickly shifts into a mantra of "I wanna sleep in your bed."
If you haven't raised a teen, you don't know what you are in for when you think of change? The moods fluctuate at a moment's notice. Parents usually go crazy thinking they are at fault for the clash. Yet it's the job of a teen to create the ripples, and ride the waves. It's the job of a parent to help separate and observe the growing pains. If you survive, you've earned the award for embracing change.
Marriage can create such wholeness and bliss inside us. A sudden loss of a spouse, or child shatters our dreams. We are outraged! Devastated! The plethora of memories are fond, and fade to fewer and fewer. The early prophetic thoughts we once created in our childhood, challenges us. Some say "Man Plans and God Laughs!"
I speak to people on a daily basis. People open up. Whether it is social, personal, professional, it's all about the same thing. How do I get through this terrible thing that has happened?
I don't know the answer. And that's good. Because the answer is to stop answering. One breath at a time, hold the hand of a toddler, raise a hand to help someone, step out of your comfort zone, laugh at least on time a day at yourself, find a person you admire, give a hug to someone who needs it , be outlandish, and hold the hand of that toddler. You may need the hug too.
We change from the moment we are born. That beautiful little melted butter spot on the nose fades from peach to plum , to pimples.
We change our friends from elementary school through the years of college and beyond.
We change our minds constantly. And we don't complain to ourselves when we're in doubt.
We arrive at the conclusion that everyone else is uninformed.
We change marital partners on a whim.
We change candidates every so often.And often not enough.
We change the names of sports teams.
We change our language to become more politically correct.
The biggest change I noticed over the years was the weight shifting without permission. I feed my body on demand. I give it whatever it likes. So why does it have such a bad disposition and turn on me?
How about those extra trimmings on our bodies. And I'm not talking tattoos. From the uninvited hair on the lips, to the ones in the ears, nose and god knows where else? What do we do with those intruders?
But when it comes to change, we create our own rules and standards. We create a life script during our childhood and often expect it to be exactly that way.
We'll be happy.
We'll be rich
We'll marry,have 2 perfect children , a magnificent home, two plus fantastic
cars, a dog, and a nanny
We'll live till the age of centurion..with all our teeth.
Nothing wrong with optimism.
But circumstances change in second . It doesn't take a second to make us depressed. The marriage fails, the spouse gets sick, the child is a hellion, the subprime mortgages fail, the dog bites, and the Nanny is flirting with the next door neighbor instead of taking care of your child.
But who said what we pictured was accurate? If that were the case there would be no wars, and illness would be history.
The last couple of decades have brought my husband and I a few surprises. We have had to change our careers, our plans for our future, and our plans for a traditional retirement. The bombshell keeps erupting. Some of our friends have asked if we live under a dark cloud. My husband says, he's positive the sun shines somewhere south and he intends to find it.
My husband is a man of character. He loves his past,he's great at managing the present, and looks forward always to the future. He's been successful in the eyes of business and he's been a hard worker, and great father, and a wonderful husband. He's succeeded in his twenties, thirties, forties, and fifties. Late fifties, financial changes caused a pit in our stomachs, and a change in the direction of living. He and I challenged fate, and began our own businesses. It took close to a decade to build up what we lost.
Attitude adjustment and embracing change is what we have come to learn works.And a sense of humor.
This spouse of mine does not blame, scorn, nor shame. We both believe that events that occur outside of our control create a ripple effect that forces us to challenge our beliefs.
Raising a toddler, lets us know that change is inevitable. One minute she's is as happy as a lark. The next minute, she says, "Nana, don't look at me". This quickly shifts into a mantra of "I wanna sleep in your bed."
If you haven't raised a teen, you don't know what you are in for when you think of change? The moods fluctuate at a moment's notice. Parents usually go crazy thinking they are at fault for the clash. Yet it's the job of a teen to create the ripples, and ride the waves. It's the job of a parent to help separate and observe the growing pains. If you survive, you've earned the award for embracing change.
Marriage can create such wholeness and bliss inside us. A sudden loss of a spouse, or child shatters our dreams. We are outraged! Devastated! The plethora of memories are fond, and fade to fewer and fewer. The early prophetic thoughts we once created in our childhood, challenges us. Some say "Man Plans and God Laughs!"
I speak to people on a daily basis. People open up. Whether it is social, personal, professional, it's all about the same thing. How do I get through this terrible thing that has happened?
I don't know the answer. And that's good. Because the answer is to stop answering. One breath at a time, hold the hand of a toddler, raise a hand to help someone, step out of your comfort zone, laugh at least on time a day at yourself, find a person you admire, give a hug to someone who needs it , be outlandish, and hold the hand of that toddler. You may need the hug too.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Mamma Mia
Coming of age seems to feel liberating. Any age I guess would fit that category. But being a product of the 60's growing up,waged war with our conscience. That is, if we had one.
This past weekend, I had permission to go out on the town with my hubby for four hours. And I took full advantage and fled for the Abba heart throb experience. First of all, at my age , that I am able to leave the house, have my child fed, and cared for for under $50,00, (that's the going rate for baby sitting eve.) is incredible. The gymnast is what we now call her since she attends gymnastics on a regular basis, was invited to a pizza night out at her academy. What a great idea. We took her for her dining experience, her athletic adventure, and off we were to the Meryl Streep extravaganza, one of my favorite actresses.
Reminiscent of an era gone wacky, many of us stood out as idealists, traditionalists, and so forth. So the irony of that period created its own social revolution pitting those who were the "stick in the mud" and the "freedom fighters."
My husband and I found each other when I was in high school.I suppose we would be the stick in the mud characters. We did all the things the way "my mother said to." He did too. We dated, and were engaged for two and a half long years, were very very good, (if you know what I mean). Then we married, and had a family. In between we both made sure we got our education. So what could go wrong?
Nothing more and nothing less than turning the clock back. We needed to be suited up and toughened up for the parent trap. When lightning strikes one should not be standing outside under the trees.
Although the critics gave Mama Mia a fair review, I am going to say, it tickled my funny bone. First of all, I AM a product of the 60's. And I HAVE raised our very own flower child of whom I a am quite remarkably proud.
Raising children as a single mom, that's not so unusual in today's world.Back in the 60's it was a shocking experience. So for a mother to say I'd rather raise this child on my own than chance a risky marriage, took some punch.
We never know if our sacrifice is going to be appreciated. What goes on in the kid's mind is forever changing. Just when you think that you got the explanation right, well there is another disconnect in the translation.You think you said"I did this for you," and all the while they are thinking, "I am going to get back at you."
The traditional family has faded. It is now commonplace to create families of all sorts.Taking on single parenting is no longer outlandish. However,"choosing" the single motherhood role is still gutsy.
The kid gets sick, you are in charge, fully. From poop, to falling down the stairs, hair raising experiences which you have to meet the challenge on your own send chills up and down my spine.
I was so glad to have my husband help me raising our children. He was and still is dear and kind and even helpful on occasion. My kids used to want to divide us and pull us apart, so they could have their way. I remember it well.
What also competes with the 60 revolution is our generation of independent mom's who work very hard to prove that they are going to get it better than we did.
Hats off to all the single moms that get it right. Those who give up their own self interest for the sake of motherhood are to be commended. Hats off to single moms who have learned to enjoy their role, despite the road that led them there.
Life is funny. We are kids, teens, adults, seniors, and I guess kids again. All the while we create a picture of who we are and where we are going and how we are going to get there when we are young. The road is often winding, and for me the directionally challenged one, I often find myself making several turns. My daughter, well, she keeps driving, her foot on the gas, straight toward her destination. She has her little girl wrapped in her Maya wrap which she fashioned on her own, built her own boat, became an independent contractor, despite her deep conviction for her artistic work. Her daughter, is her life.
My daughter is raising a soon two year old, and I a four year old. Who knew that our lives would follow a common road, despite a 2500 mile distance between us. Our roads have merged into a beautiful joint expedition with granny and motherhood combined.
This past weekend, I had permission to go out on the town with my hubby for four hours. And I took full advantage and fled for the Abba heart throb experience. First of all, at my age , that I am able to leave the house, have my child fed, and cared for for under $50,00, (that's the going rate for baby sitting eve.) is incredible. The gymnast is what we now call her since she attends gymnastics on a regular basis, was invited to a pizza night out at her academy. What a great idea. We took her for her dining experience, her athletic adventure, and off we were to the Meryl Streep extravaganza, one of my favorite actresses.
Reminiscent of an era gone wacky, many of us stood out as idealists, traditionalists, and so forth. So the irony of that period created its own social revolution pitting those who were the "stick in the mud" and the "freedom fighters."
My husband and I found each other when I was in high school.I suppose we would be the stick in the mud characters. We did all the things the way "my mother said to." He did too. We dated, and were engaged for two and a half long years, were very very good, (if you know what I mean). Then we married, and had a family. In between we both made sure we got our education. So what could go wrong?
Nothing more and nothing less than turning the clock back. We needed to be suited up and toughened up for the parent trap. When lightning strikes one should not be standing outside under the trees.
Although the critics gave Mama Mia a fair review, I am going to say, it tickled my funny bone. First of all, I AM a product of the 60's. And I HAVE raised our very own flower child of whom I a am quite remarkably proud.
Raising children as a single mom, that's not so unusual in today's world.Back in the 60's it was a shocking experience. So for a mother to say I'd rather raise this child on my own than chance a risky marriage, took some punch.
We never know if our sacrifice is going to be appreciated. What goes on in the kid's mind is forever changing. Just when you think that you got the explanation right, well there is another disconnect in the translation.You think you said"I did this for you," and all the while they are thinking, "I am going to get back at you."
The traditional family has faded. It is now commonplace to create families of all sorts.Taking on single parenting is no longer outlandish. However,"choosing" the single motherhood role is still gutsy.
The kid gets sick, you are in charge, fully. From poop, to falling down the stairs, hair raising experiences which you have to meet the challenge on your own send chills up and down my spine.
I was so glad to have my husband help me raising our children. He was and still is dear and kind and even helpful on occasion. My kids used to want to divide us and pull us apart, so they could have their way. I remember it well.
What also competes with the 60 revolution is our generation of independent mom's who work very hard to prove that they are going to get it better than we did.
Hats off to all the single moms that get it right. Those who give up their own self interest for the sake of motherhood are to be commended. Hats off to single moms who have learned to enjoy their role, despite the road that led them there.
Life is funny. We are kids, teens, adults, seniors, and I guess kids again. All the while we create a picture of who we are and where we are going and how we are going to get there when we are young. The road is often winding, and for me the directionally challenged one, I often find myself making several turns. My daughter, well, she keeps driving, her foot on the gas, straight toward her destination. She has her little girl wrapped in her Maya wrap which she fashioned on her own, built her own boat, became an independent contractor, despite her deep conviction for her artistic work. Her daughter, is her life.
My daughter is raising a soon two year old, and I a four year old. Who knew that our lives would follow a common road, despite a 2500 mile distance between us. Our roads have merged into a beautiful joint expedition with granny and motherhood combined.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
"Morning Time"
It's not unusual for her little bouncing body to hop into "our space" between us in bed. The pattern is tickle, wiggle, tickle more, and kiss and hug the "little bug" The usual response is giggle, and jump on her grandfather's back and demand "horsey ride."
This morning was different. Stillness. Then a soundbite like a "cry."
"Ooh honey, did you get hurt?"
I felt her eyes. They were real tears. Not fake tears, either. They were colossal crocodile tears. They were grand, and wet. And then the drops fell upon her cheeks like pellets.
That got our attention. But my husband and I looked at one another gesturing the other to wait for her to tell us.
How do you find a way to ask a four year old what sad is like?
I know my husband depends on the therapist part of me. But the truth is, when it's about our family, that's different. Or is it?
In the back of my mind, poppa's too, we think about the way adults express sadness. We look for the reasons that connect the thought and the feeling, and then the action. Truth is, some adults can admit to the things that bring on feelings, but others cannot.
So I touched our little ones tears, one by one, gave the first drop, a name. We called it "rain drop." We asked for the sun to come through.
Rain drop, why are there so many clouds?
Then she and I created a poem at which time her irritation melted into a slight mischievous grin.
In the back of my mind, again I thought she was attached to a yearning for her mom or dad. Being the sensitive child, she probably doesn't want to hurt our feelings. That's the adult explanation.
But, we were careful not to jump to conclusions for her. Toddlers really do have the capacity to let us know, so I crossed my fingers, and hoped I was right.
"Sad sometimes is not bad.
Sad can be mixture of good and mad.
Sad can come out like a hum ,
Sad can come out like a bang of a drum.
Tears and sniffles try to hide,
Seldom do adults let them glide,
Rush to catch them one by one,
Now our kiddo is ready to jump and run."
"So, is sad still around?" I asked . The shallow breaths dissipated. A grin greeted us with a sneak preview. Not too fast,of course. That would be tricky.
The grin turned into a cackle, and the child jumped off the bed, started to chase her grandfather. She then popped upon her own bed, and produced a forced cry.
"What's that about?"her poppa questioned?
"You called me mouse " Her lips puckered, and she crossed her arms quite sternly.
" My teacher said, "Never, call people names. "
The painful facade faded into gleeful expression.
"Wanna, play, poppa?"
Sometimes, much ado about nothing. But to a four year old, one moment, or one thought, is their whole world.
This morning was different. Stillness. Then a soundbite like a "cry."
"Ooh honey, did you get hurt?"
I felt her eyes. They were real tears. Not fake tears, either. They were colossal crocodile tears. They were grand, and wet. And then the drops fell upon her cheeks like pellets.
That got our attention. But my husband and I looked at one another gesturing the other to wait for her to tell us.
How do you find a way to ask a four year old what sad is like?
I know my husband depends on the therapist part of me. But the truth is, when it's about our family, that's different. Or is it?
In the back of my mind, poppa's too, we think about the way adults express sadness. We look for the reasons that connect the thought and the feeling, and then the action. Truth is, some adults can admit to the things that bring on feelings, but others cannot.
So I touched our little ones tears, one by one, gave the first drop, a name. We called it "rain drop." We asked for the sun to come through.
Rain drop, why are there so many clouds?
Then she and I created a poem at which time her irritation melted into a slight mischievous grin.
In the back of my mind, again I thought she was attached to a yearning for her mom or dad. Being the sensitive child, she probably doesn't want to hurt our feelings. That's the adult explanation.
But, we were careful not to jump to conclusions for her. Toddlers really do have the capacity to let us know, so I crossed my fingers, and hoped I was right.
"Sad sometimes is not bad.
Sad can be mixture of good and mad.
Sad can come out like a hum ,
Sad can come out like a bang of a drum.
Tears and sniffles try to hide,
Seldom do adults let them glide,
Rush to catch them one by one,
Now our kiddo is ready to jump and run."
"So, is sad still around?" I asked . The shallow breaths dissipated. A grin greeted us with a sneak preview. Not too fast,of course. That would be tricky.
The grin turned into a cackle, and the child jumped off the bed, started to chase her grandfather. She then popped upon her own bed, and produced a forced cry.
"What's that about?"her poppa questioned?
"You called me mouse " Her lips puckered, and she crossed her arms quite sternly.
" My teacher said, "Never, call people names. "
The painful facade faded into gleeful expression.
"Wanna, play, poppa?"
Sometimes, much ado about nothing. But to a four year old, one moment, or one thought, is their whole world.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Play Dates
Remember when play dates were a time for kids to pop out of their house, knock on your door, and ask if Suzie is home? "Can Suzie come out to play.?" Well that was the 60's perhaps. But times have changed. Dates are no longer dates, they are arrangements. Appealing to the mom's sense of urgency to have her child at play, includes planes, trains and automobiles. No kidding,. And with the price of gas, we better get the age level reduced so the kids can transport themselves. Perhaps on their tricycles.
When my first family was being raised, we lived ten seconds from Johnny and Mary. Now we live ten miles, and consider that a short stop.
My granddaughter will be celebrating her fourth birthday next week. Yea! I no longer have to refer to the almost four year old. She's so excited that she no longer holds up her 3 crooked fingers. She proudly announces that she is older now. She's keen on the princesses party.
Her mother phoned, eager to find out what her baby wants for her day. This child held my hand while talking to her mother long distance, chuckled and said,"I want you." She smiled and then quickly turned to her Nana and poppa for reassurance. She added,"Do you think my mommy and daddy can make a play date. ?"
My grandchild makes me stop dead in my tracks. I look at her with the kind of amazement you would imagine when you view the many wonders of the world. Her curious mind extends warmth through words, giggles, memory games about being a baby, and sharing some of her favorite play date stories.
Her fourth birthday brings a wisdom beyond her years. The long distance phone call from her mother brings initial excitement. She dances while talking and thinks her mother can see her.We do not have her on video. This dance continues, and she is unswayed by the the silliness. No matter!
Her mother asks, "Are you playing well with others? Who are your friends?"
Her mother has the good sense to tell her how her Nana and Poppa love her soooo much. How lucky she is to have them love her and care for her. We agree. But we see how lucky we are, After all, everyday is our special play date with her.
Officially, I don't have a "REAL JOB." I respectfully think that the real job will get in the way of the play dates. Who will do the transporting, social engagements, making sure the kid is picked up , dropped off, playing fair, and kiss the boo boos. Play dates are important! If the granny can't be there to fuel the social activities, how's the toddler going to swing into a social life. On the other hand, if gas prices continue to sky rocket past the $6.00 mark, what's a Nana to do?
The only play dates we'll be having will be stay dates. Ooops that means we may have to play with our neighbors kids.
Ding Dong! "Can Suzie come and play?"
"There is no Suzie here."
" Emma and Kylie are so excited to play."
When my first family was being raised, we lived ten seconds from Johnny and Mary. Now we live ten miles, and consider that a short stop.
My granddaughter will be celebrating her fourth birthday next week. Yea! I no longer have to refer to the almost four year old. She's so excited that she no longer holds up her 3 crooked fingers. She proudly announces that she is older now. She's keen on the princesses party.
Her mother phoned, eager to find out what her baby wants for her day. This child held my hand while talking to her mother long distance, chuckled and said,"I want you." She smiled and then quickly turned to her Nana and poppa for reassurance. She added,"Do you think my mommy and daddy can make a play date. ?"
My grandchild makes me stop dead in my tracks. I look at her with the kind of amazement you would imagine when you view the many wonders of the world. Her curious mind extends warmth through words, giggles, memory games about being a baby, and sharing some of her favorite play date stories.
Her fourth birthday brings a wisdom beyond her years. The long distance phone call from her mother brings initial excitement. She dances while talking and thinks her mother can see her.We do not have her on video. This dance continues, and she is unswayed by the the silliness. No matter!
Her mother asks, "Are you playing well with others? Who are your friends?"
Her mother has the good sense to tell her how her Nana and Poppa love her soooo much. How lucky she is to have them love her and care for her. We agree. But we see how lucky we are, After all, everyday is our special play date with her.
Officially, I don't have a "REAL JOB." I respectfully think that the real job will get in the way of the play dates. Who will do the transporting, social engagements, making sure the kid is picked up , dropped off, playing fair, and kiss the boo boos. Play dates are important! If the granny can't be there to fuel the social activities, how's the toddler going to swing into a social life. On the other hand, if gas prices continue to sky rocket past the $6.00 mark, what's a Nana to do?
The only play dates we'll be having will be stay dates. Ooops that means we may have to play with our neighbors kids.
Ding Dong! "Can Suzie come and play?"
"There is no Suzie here."
" Emma and Kylie are so excited to play."
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
WALL_E
My husband purchased the two senior tickets and one child's moments before our granddaughter and I ambled up toward the booth . Our little almost four year old girl fixated on the stairs she was about to climb. She would not budge. We were going to be late for the movie. But she would not falter. A woman and her husband noticed how methodically this child reached for my hand and with her other hand began picking up the orange paper strewn across the theatre entrance. None of the adults noticed. Or if they did, they failed to attend. With each pensive movement, this moment of truth and bewilderment came across her face. "Why is this on the floor, Nana?" From above, you could see my husband gesturing us to come up quickly. But, slowly and leading by example, she innocently, yet deliberately shouted that the "messy ground" needed help. The couple in front of us applauded after seeing the look on the innocent child.
"When do we see WALL-E? she eagerly motioned me to hurry." I think, you might be Eva!
I didn't think she would really understand the movie. She needed a nap following a fully scheduled morning with friends. so imagined she'd be cranky.Poppa and I decided to chance it just the same. It was a Sunday.We like to make it a full day. The only thing I heard for the past week was her voice mimicking a droning WALL-E...followed by EVA...and "Poppa,when can we go?"
I on the other hand, wondered what this creature was all about. Was it an adorable ET or a pathetic expose of the world's deplorable state of affairs. And if so , how could an almost four year old...comprehend.
Well, how many of you have seen this movie. If I had not been slightly sedated, I believe I could have managed to stay up for the entire movie. The little girl sitting on my lap, was mesmerized. She did not fail the reviewers. Following each direction that Wall-E took, our child was right there following.
It was once suggested that the conceptual process of the child is not quite ready to gel before the age of 4. Well that was probably true for me and my generation while I may have still been sucking on my blanket.
But the kids today are incredible. Their social, emotional , mental processes are so highly developed. The children are nurtured beyond their years. To the credit of these fabulous human beings as I see it through the eyes of our grandchild, is an eagerness to please, observe, and learn. Then they are ready to put their achievements into action.
This was clear as I watched our little one following the details from the movie on the earths demise. She understood the message delivered through the eyes of Wall-E. And she was saddened. She asked what happened to make the earth this way?
She was tearful when she noticed Wall=E's isolation. She came alive when he and EVA connected. She related it almost immediately to her friendships as well.She prompted discussion about her playdates with her friends and how important they are to her.
Our grandchild has been attending pre- school since she has been a year old. It is not necessary to justify the reasons for sending a child to pre- school today. After all, so many of the toddlers join the educational system many years prior to kindergarten. Some even start in the womb, I hear.
Initially, I was skeptical. After all, I raised a family while at home with my children, Why are not more parents home with their children.
The moment of truth revealed my overly judgmental attitude. Just because we did it one way, didn't mean that's the way of the future. Our way may or may not have been the best for the time. But that would not mean that you would turn the clock back. It's time to move forward in time for some very good reasons.
Well, pre- school education was not just for learning. It is for socialization as well. Not all homes are created equal. So sometimes it is important to normalize the home environment by creating alternative models.
We live in times where choice is available. Good parenting offers options,teaches by modeling, and creates an atmosphere of guilt free healthy alternatives for their own families. A child's character is built on the foundation of a parents integrity.The quality of time is not based on quantity, but on valuable one to one contact when with the child. Children are honest, and they will let you know if you are really there or removed.
Changing ones rigid philosophy from time when my generation raised children is difficult for some, and becomes the plight of a grandparent. It can also create conflict between the families. After all, our children didn't go to "nursery school" until 3 or 4. And then it was primarily a babysitting service, not necessarily a pre- kindergarten, or possible Harvard experience. Sometimes we may be more critical of our children for making these decisions today.
But understanding the purpose of education, socialization, and grouping children in today's day and age is so different from years ago. The children who grew up in neighborhoods, and were able to go out and play without the so called play dates, are gone. Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers taught our children the way of the world.
So if kids are going to be intellectually stimulated, they must have an emotional connection to other children as well.
In school, and the good day care situations, the children learn early on that trash is something to be recycled. Our children are learning a great deal about preserving the world. They get it so much better than the adults of our generation,who occasionally forget to look on the ground below.
When I asked our little girl if she liked the movie WALL=E, she paused, shuffled her feet while wiping the gum from her shoes. Suddenly we watched a giant size box of popcorn float down a couple stairs,as each person shoved aside the crushed remnant of a box.
Not our little girl."Wall-E would be so mad., right Nana:"
"Why?" I asked.
"Do you think Wall-E and Eva could work at this movie theatre? It's not very clean."
"When do we see WALL-E? she eagerly motioned me to hurry." I think, you might be Eva!
I didn't think she would really understand the movie. She needed a nap following a fully scheduled morning with friends. so imagined she'd be cranky.Poppa and I decided to chance it just the same. It was a Sunday.We like to make it a full day. The only thing I heard for the past week was her voice mimicking a droning WALL-E...followed by EVA...and "Poppa,when can we go?"
I on the other hand, wondered what this creature was all about. Was it an adorable ET or a pathetic expose of the world's deplorable state of affairs. And if so , how could an almost four year old...comprehend.
Well, how many of you have seen this movie. If I had not been slightly sedated, I believe I could have managed to stay up for the entire movie. The little girl sitting on my lap, was mesmerized. She did not fail the reviewers. Following each direction that Wall-E took, our child was right there following.
It was once suggested that the conceptual process of the child is not quite ready to gel before the age of 4. Well that was probably true for me and my generation while I may have still been sucking on my blanket.
But the kids today are incredible. Their social, emotional , mental processes are so highly developed. The children are nurtured beyond their years. To the credit of these fabulous human beings as I see it through the eyes of our grandchild, is an eagerness to please, observe, and learn. Then they are ready to put their achievements into action.
This was clear as I watched our little one following the details from the movie on the earths demise. She understood the message delivered through the eyes of Wall-E. And she was saddened. She asked what happened to make the earth this way?
She was tearful when she noticed Wall=E's isolation. She came alive when he and EVA connected. She related it almost immediately to her friendships as well.She prompted discussion about her playdates with her friends and how important they are to her.
Our grandchild has been attending pre- school since she has been a year old. It is not necessary to justify the reasons for sending a child to pre- school today. After all, so many of the toddlers join the educational system many years prior to kindergarten. Some even start in the womb, I hear.
Initially, I was skeptical. After all, I raised a family while at home with my children, Why are not more parents home with their children.
The moment of truth revealed my overly judgmental attitude. Just because we did it one way, didn't mean that's the way of the future. Our way may or may not have been the best for the time. But that would not mean that you would turn the clock back. It's time to move forward in time for some very good reasons.
Well, pre- school education was not just for learning. It is for socialization as well. Not all homes are created equal. So sometimes it is important to normalize the home environment by creating alternative models.
We live in times where choice is available. Good parenting offers options,teaches by modeling, and creates an atmosphere of guilt free healthy alternatives for their own families. A child's character is built on the foundation of a parents integrity.The quality of time is not based on quantity, but on valuable one to one contact when with the child. Children are honest, and they will let you know if you are really there or removed.
Changing ones rigid philosophy from time when my generation raised children is difficult for some, and becomes the plight of a grandparent. It can also create conflict between the families. After all, our children didn't go to "nursery school" until 3 or 4. And then it was primarily a babysitting service, not necessarily a pre- kindergarten, or possible Harvard experience. Sometimes we may be more critical of our children for making these decisions today.
But understanding the purpose of education, socialization, and grouping children in today's day and age is so different from years ago. The children who grew up in neighborhoods, and were able to go out and play without the so called play dates, are gone. Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers taught our children the way of the world.
So if kids are going to be intellectually stimulated, they must have an emotional connection to other children as well.
In school, and the good day care situations, the children learn early on that trash is something to be recycled. Our children are learning a great deal about preserving the world. They get it so much better than the adults of our generation,who occasionally forget to look on the ground below.
When I asked our little girl if she liked the movie WALL=E, she paused, shuffled her feet while wiping the gum from her shoes. Suddenly we watched a giant size box of popcorn float down a couple stairs,as each person shoved aside the crushed remnant of a box.
Not our little girl."Wall-E would be so mad., right Nana:"
"Why?" I asked.
"Do you think Wall-E and Eva could work at this movie theatre? It's not very clean."
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Faulty Judgement
My husband asked me to write on this topic. As honor to him on our 43rd anniversary, I thought I'd gift him a spot on the blog.
Well dear, Happy Anniversary. I know you always thought I'd be there for you. Thick and thin. Lose or win. How about those Cubs. You have been a fan since before your birth. And I know we met when I was just 16. And I know I told you a huge huge lie...That I was an avid sports fan. On two counts I was misleading. one was avid....and the other sports fan. Before I met you, how could I have known that I would have fallen for you and your adorable freckles. How could I have known that when you told me you were chaplain of your fraternity, and how much you liked kids, that you would have swept me off my feet. So how could I have told you anything but what you wanted to hear...!RAH!
Well , we're both from Chicago. I'll give you that. The Chicago Bulls, where we both went to school with Chet Walker..I loved the pop corn! We cheered!!!!!!
And how about that cold winter day when I went with you to the Bear Game....I froze my hiny off. Did I complain????No!
But those Cubs you cherish so!!!OOPs. I went there in the days with Jack Brickhouse. I must say that as a person who is prone to sleep on the spot, Brickhouse was able to induce it quite readily. So that high flying ball that was never going to get those cubs the pennant...put me into dreamland.
Now this is not all fair. I promised I would honor, cherish, and take care of you in sickness and in health. So let us pray, that the CUBS come out of their funk of 100 years, and that the bond that you and your grandfather had as part of the Wrigley Field Connection..pushes a century ahead and brings the generation for our 2 granddaughters a cheery..cheer. I watch you and our little girl sitting on your lap, with the Cubs hat on backwards, and her fondness for the Cub Song..and I think I am the luckiest woman in the world to see you both nurturuing what America is about...Freedom and Pride.
You are teaching what you taught our children growing up, about spirit. It's not who wins or loses. It's about the game. You are loyal, my dear. And you are so teaching that to the next genteration to come. I learn so much from you. Happy anniversary. And Go Cubs Go.
Well dear, Happy Anniversary. I know you always thought I'd be there for you. Thick and thin. Lose or win. How about those Cubs. You have been a fan since before your birth. And I know we met when I was just 16. And I know I told you a huge huge lie...That I was an avid sports fan. On two counts I was misleading. one was avid....and the other sports fan. Before I met you, how could I have known that I would have fallen for you and your adorable freckles. How could I have known that when you told me you were chaplain of your fraternity, and how much you liked kids, that you would have swept me off my feet. So how could I have told you anything but what you wanted to hear...!RAH!
Well , we're both from Chicago. I'll give you that. The Chicago Bulls, where we both went to school with Chet Walker..I loved the pop corn! We cheered!!!!!!
And how about that cold winter day when I went with you to the Bear Game....I froze my hiny off. Did I complain????No!
But those Cubs you cherish so!!!OOPs. I went there in the days with Jack Brickhouse. I must say that as a person who is prone to sleep on the spot, Brickhouse was able to induce it quite readily. So that high flying ball that was never going to get those cubs the pennant...put me into dreamland.
Now this is not all fair. I promised I would honor, cherish, and take care of you in sickness and in health. So let us pray, that the CUBS come out of their funk of 100 years, and that the bond that you and your grandfather had as part of the Wrigley Field Connection..pushes a century ahead and brings the generation for our 2 granddaughters a cheery..cheer. I watch you and our little girl sitting on your lap, with the Cubs hat on backwards, and her fondness for the Cub Song..and I think I am the luckiest woman in the world to see you both nurturuing what America is about...Freedom and Pride.
You are teaching what you taught our children growing up, about spirit. It's not who wins or loses. It's about the game. You are loyal, my dear. And you are so teaching that to the next genteration to come. I learn so much from you. Happy anniversary. And Go Cubs Go.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
material possessions
So I was driving our granddaughter to her day camp, and I'm thinking, that she is almost four years old. I am already planning her confirmation from school at the same time wondering if she is going to finish her breakfast.
I'm having a De je vous moment. Daydreaming, while driving, about all people, Barbra Streisand. popped into my head. And I'm wondering, what mindset once prompted her to change her life's point of view and sell her material possessions.
Two years ago, my best friend in the whole word, and closest confident died. She was a beautiful, wise, and clever lady. She was my mother. We did just about everything together. The last few years of her life brought both joy and sadness to my own existence. I imagined what life would be without her, and I could hardly breathe. And the actual moment of her death released an odd sense of relief, as well as an existential point of view.
The joy I felt when she was alive, melted into pensive moments. I looked around my home which I once regarded with so much pride. There were pictures of my entire family. Most of them were now deceased. Instead of feeling gratified, it felt bizarre displaying dead people on my wall.
When my mother was alive, she so enjoyed buying me something special for the home. As she was getting closer to the sunset of her life, she was more urgent about the purchases. I held each item she purchased as a crypt. I wanted to embalm everything she touched in order to have her around.
You know how it is when you think you are about to lose someone or something. You just want to hang on to "it" a little bit longer...When you finally come to the realization it's gone, something changes inside you forever.
Now,if you've been following my blog, you know how much I love to shop. Some of my nearest and dearest have even accused me of being short of thrifty, and at times, overly zealous about my shopping. They also try to be helpful especially to my husband by suggesting that perhaps I don't need the "thing." What, are you kidding, I mock. Need is not in the vocabulary.
Also,those who know me also know that I am directionally challenged. However, I never get lost in a store. I'm not saying I'm proud of this discovery. But I am willing to fess up to the fact that it has kept me busy as well as kept my friends amused.
To the point of needing material things requires, touching, feeling, connecting,and designing some self portrait during my life. Perhaps an artistic expression as well. Though an expensive pastime, it became a huge expression of being "me." I keep trying to tell you I'm not that shallow. But who knows when they are either at the shallow end or the deep end. Sometimes, you just go in the water and float. I'm a floater, I guess.
I watched my granddaughter floating. She's' just about that four year old age. When I was four, I think I was still in a crib. She, however, is on her back with a perfect back stroke, goal oriented, and keeping her head way above the water. She can look ahead to the side and has a good sense of what's behind, but follows a path.
Once I became a grandmother and an orphan at the same time, I thought this was such an oxymoron. For being a grandmother, seemed to imply that you were wise. The orphan part seemed ridiculous. I'm old enough to understand that life goes on. But what I hadn't realize, is that I no longer required the material to sustain my connection.
Yes, I look and touch and feel the lovey things that were special in the family. OOh that's nice. I even view an occasional picture with a smile or a tear.
What I remember are the sounds, the laughter, the words of wisdom.
Grandchildren are the cherished keepsakes. After all, they are the ones that will be regenerating our society.What we feed them, teach them, model for them, applaud them, will eventually help them to create a future that has value.
I have one grandchild I am raising. And another Grandchild who is being raised by a single mom. Each child, is self sufficient and strong. Each child, has created a place in my heart and in the heart of their parents. We don't get to possess these beings. We just need to raise them to matter.
I'm having a De je vous moment. Daydreaming, while driving, about all people, Barbra Streisand. popped into my head. And I'm wondering, what mindset once prompted her to change her life's point of view and sell her material possessions.
Two years ago, my best friend in the whole word, and closest confident died. She was a beautiful, wise, and clever lady. She was my mother. We did just about everything together. The last few years of her life brought both joy and sadness to my own existence. I imagined what life would be without her, and I could hardly breathe. And the actual moment of her death released an odd sense of relief, as well as an existential point of view.
The joy I felt when she was alive, melted into pensive moments. I looked around my home which I once regarded with so much pride. There were pictures of my entire family. Most of them were now deceased. Instead of feeling gratified, it felt bizarre displaying dead people on my wall.
When my mother was alive, she so enjoyed buying me something special for the home. As she was getting closer to the sunset of her life, she was more urgent about the purchases. I held each item she purchased as a crypt. I wanted to embalm everything she touched in order to have her around.
You know how it is when you think you are about to lose someone or something. You just want to hang on to "it" a little bit longer...When you finally come to the realization it's gone, something changes inside you forever.
Now,if you've been following my blog, you know how much I love to shop. Some of my nearest and dearest have even accused me of being short of thrifty, and at times, overly zealous about my shopping. They also try to be helpful especially to my husband by suggesting that perhaps I don't need the "thing." What, are you kidding, I mock. Need is not in the vocabulary.
Also,those who know me also know that I am directionally challenged. However, I never get lost in a store. I'm not saying I'm proud of this discovery. But I am willing to fess up to the fact that it has kept me busy as well as kept my friends amused.
To the point of needing material things requires, touching, feeling, connecting,and designing some self portrait during my life. Perhaps an artistic expression as well. Though an expensive pastime, it became a huge expression of being "me." I keep trying to tell you I'm not that shallow. But who knows when they are either at the shallow end or the deep end. Sometimes, you just go in the water and float. I'm a floater, I guess.
I watched my granddaughter floating. She's' just about that four year old age. When I was four, I think I was still in a crib. She, however, is on her back with a perfect back stroke, goal oriented, and keeping her head way above the water. She can look ahead to the side and has a good sense of what's behind, but follows a path.
Once I became a grandmother and an orphan at the same time, I thought this was such an oxymoron. For being a grandmother, seemed to imply that you were wise. The orphan part seemed ridiculous. I'm old enough to understand that life goes on. But what I hadn't realize, is that I no longer required the material to sustain my connection.
Yes, I look and touch and feel the lovey things that were special in the family. OOh that's nice. I even view an occasional picture with a smile or a tear.
What I remember are the sounds, the laughter, the words of wisdom.
Grandchildren are the cherished keepsakes. After all, they are the ones that will be regenerating our society.What we feed them, teach them, model for them, applaud them, will eventually help them to create a future that has value.
I have one grandchild I am raising. And another Grandchild who is being raised by a single mom. Each child, is self sufficient and strong. Each child, has created a place in my heart and in the heart of their parents. We don't get to possess these beings. We just need to raise them to matter.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Peace of Mind
Peace of Mind
There are all kinds of rewards for keeping peace in the family. For example, you can avoid ill treated comments that set you into eternal family feuds.
What happens when you stake out peace for peace itself? Usually one can predict the calm before the storm. Some of the common symptoms of makeshift peace are:
Heart burn.
You get a brow that requires botox at my age after perpetual frowning,
You get speech that echoes some scorching words underneath your breath.
You get the other person saying.” what did you say?"
All of this in the name of "peace at all costs." And it cost plenty!
Well the reason I’m writing on this day is to pause for reflection on family matters. I was thinking that no matter how old I am, and I am ancient, after all I’m a grandmother, I still hold the medal on Peace maker of the family ties.
Until one frantic call to action a couple of years ago..
“Please pick up our little girl. You have twelve hours or she goes into the foster care system."
No time to ask questions. My husband and I jumped into the car. We were on a fast run to Las Vegas in hopes we did not miss the deadline. We made it to pick up our little grandchild, just a year and half at the time. She looked at us with that angelic face, which has a look of wisdom beyond her years. Her soulful eyes looked up as she threw her delicate arms around my neck and whispered, ‘Nana, am I going home, now?”
Fingerprinted, questioned, and then briefed, we were told that we would probably be raising our son’s child. We did not question our call to duty.
We assumed that our son and daughter in law arranged for our custody requests as a joint decision. But that was not the case. Our son battled custody issues till blue in the face. Unwilling to admit that he and his wife were incapable of caring for their child, the couple pursued a couple of court battles that raised our eyebrows .
At my age, I wasn't thinking custody. At my age, I didn't think beyond ,"can I make it up the stairs? At my age, I wasn't thinking babies, diapers, camp, . At my age I wondered if I would be fit for those beautiful teen years of a girl. But age shrunk to size. I may have been older, but that tiny tot trumped any ideas we had about age.
Keeping peace and peace of mind, were difficult. Halting a battle with your own child when they are young, is one siege. But going to battle when they are adults is quite another. Reality is each one’s personal perspective. And each person in the family had a different reality. My husband and I shared much of the united reality which was to step up to the plate and not worry about the peace in the family.
Keeping peace would have wounded our grandchild. Getting up close and personal to make sure that the young child could have a voice was being responsible. Hoping that the future held a brighter tomorrow for the parents was a possiblity, but not a promise.
So keeping peace was not an option.Speaking up for our child who could not, is so important. Children need a voice. A voice of reason when their parents cannot. Teaching the model of protection, dependability, trust, and conflict, are sooooo important. No one wants to be called a bad parent. But the truth is, sometimes they are. Not everyone has the understanding or capability on becoming one either.
Here is the dilemma: how does one step in to protect your little ones.
Recently, I sat with an adult child of the foster care system. She observed our grandchild and us. Curiously, she asked, how this came about. Without compunction, I shared some details.
Eyes wide open, her chin dropped to the floor, and she stated, “I wish my grandmother and grandfather had rescued me from the clutches of the system. The nights were long, , the stories I made up for myself were plentiful. It’s good you didn’t keep the peace."
As I looked at this incredible human being with whom we now bonded, I recognized a wisdom that she was blessed. Peace at all costs, is a piece of self lost.
I shutter to think if I talked peacefully to my kids and their family, that the child we are raising would have the same opportunities.
If you utter a promise , make sure you don’t mutter under your breath any regrets. Age is no factor in assuming what’s right for family ties.
There are all kinds of families…Grandparents having to extend their parenting skills, is a new kind of phenomena.
Here is making peace with a piece of family...our granddaughter. She shall have the peace within.
Look for further articles on providing true peace within your new family.
There are all kinds of rewards for keeping peace in the family. For example, you can avoid ill treated comments that set you into eternal family feuds.
What happens when you stake out peace for peace itself? Usually one can predict the calm before the storm. Some of the common symptoms of makeshift peace are:
Heart burn.
You get a brow that requires botox at my age after perpetual frowning,
You get speech that echoes some scorching words underneath your breath.
You get the other person saying.” what did you say?"
All of this in the name of "peace at all costs." And it cost plenty!
Well the reason I’m writing on this day is to pause for reflection on family matters. I was thinking that no matter how old I am, and I am ancient, after all I’m a grandmother, I still hold the medal on Peace maker of the family ties.
Until one frantic call to action a couple of years ago..
“Please pick up our little girl. You have twelve hours or she goes into the foster care system."
No time to ask questions. My husband and I jumped into the car. We were on a fast run to Las Vegas in hopes we did not miss the deadline. We made it to pick up our little grandchild, just a year and half at the time. She looked at us with that angelic face, which has a look of wisdom beyond her years. Her soulful eyes looked up as she threw her delicate arms around my neck and whispered, ‘Nana, am I going home, now?”
Fingerprinted, questioned, and then briefed, we were told that we would probably be raising our son’s child. We did not question our call to duty.
We assumed that our son and daughter in law arranged for our custody requests as a joint decision. But that was not the case. Our son battled custody issues till blue in the face. Unwilling to admit that he and his wife were incapable of caring for their child, the couple pursued a couple of court battles that raised our eyebrows .
At my age, I wasn't thinking custody. At my age, I didn't think beyond ,"can I make it up the stairs? At my age, I wasn't thinking babies, diapers, camp, . At my age I wondered if I would be fit for those beautiful teen years of a girl. But age shrunk to size. I may have been older, but that tiny tot trumped any ideas we had about age.
Keeping peace and peace of mind, were difficult. Halting a battle with your own child when they are young, is one siege. But going to battle when they are adults is quite another. Reality is each one’s personal perspective. And each person in the family had a different reality. My husband and I shared much of the united reality which was to step up to the plate and not worry about the peace in the family.
Keeping peace would have wounded our grandchild. Getting up close and personal to make sure that the young child could have a voice was being responsible. Hoping that the future held a brighter tomorrow for the parents was a possiblity, but not a promise.
So keeping peace was not an option.Speaking up for our child who could not, is so important. Children need a voice. A voice of reason when their parents cannot. Teaching the model of protection, dependability, trust, and conflict, are sooooo important. No one wants to be called a bad parent. But the truth is, sometimes they are. Not everyone has the understanding or capability on becoming one either.
Here is the dilemma: how does one step in to protect your little ones.
Recently, I sat with an adult child of the foster care system. She observed our grandchild and us. Curiously, she asked, how this came about. Without compunction, I shared some details.
Eyes wide open, her chin dropped to the floor, and she stated, “I wish my grandmother and grandfather had rescued me from the clutches of the system. The nights were long, , the stories I made up for myself were plentiful. It’s good you didn’t keep the peace."
As I looked at this incredible human being with whom we now bonded, I recognized a wisdom that she was blessed. Peace at all costs, is a piece of self lost.
I shutter to think if I talked peacefully to my kids and their family, that the child we are raising would have the same opportunities.
If you utter a promise , make sure you don’t mutter under your breath any regrets. Age is no factor in assuming what’s right for family ties.
There are all kinds of families…Grandparents having to extend their parenting skills, is a new kind of phenomena.
Here is making peace with a piece of family...our granddaughter. She shall have the peace within.
Look for further articles on providing true peace within your new family.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
night crawlers
Not surprising, as a city slicker, we didn't have many of those night crawlers. Growing up in what we believed as Chicago's top neighborhood, West Rogers Park, our families were protected against most critters. That didn't stop my mother from shivering in her boots when she even thought about a spider, or an ant. The possibilities of how she could manage to capture the little things, gave a whole dimension to the word, "rumination." By god, those critters. couldn't even reach the first step of our 17 stair walk up two flights, where our humble abode was. None the less, it kept mother, busy taking care of her clan. Keeping the apartment critter clean, was amusing at best.
Summers in the fifties with our families were spent diametrically opposed to the the fine city of Chicago. Our cultural experiences changed from West Side Story to Home Home on the Range. Culture was spent at the Busy Bee diner over a Creek with a few surly fellows who gave my father another reason to tell a story . Buffalo Wyoming, was the main summer spot where we drove without the air conditioning, and my father's arm flying out the window. We spent the week anticipating our reunion with my fathers' brothers and sisters who had many critter stories.
My father, generally the tardy person in the family, causing my mother to do unusual contortions to her face as well as raising her normally quiescent voice, to a shrill, and hiccup.
None the less, when my father was on a mission to head for Buffalo, we left at the early rise of 3 AM, packed eggs, toilet paper, and a bowl.Not for the eggs. That was so we didn't take time to take bathroom stops.
So there was a pot in the back seat, just in case. "We have to drive clear through ."
My uncle was proud of the variety of places we could stay. Our family owned the main motel in town,,,,,no...we didn't stay there.
My uncle invited us to stay above his own theater. And that's where the critters be busy. So mom is taking a bath, I am surveying the apartment. Generally I have a plan to stay at my friends home for the summer. But mother says that being close to our family is best, because "we're critter clean."
Amusing, in one second, out from behind the door, my mother has one of those bursts of throaty words..all mispronounced...and then a naked leap from the tub...down into the movie theater....There is a mouse....
"Mother,Mother, you don't have clothes on. "
Although it was Mickey Mouse that was on the next hit parade, my mother's embarrassment led her kids to remind her of this highlight in our lives.
If I didn't have that memory, I wouldn't have thought about last night, as our granddaughter, tucked in her bed at 7:30 PM. Unusual that she was pooped and acquiesced to have one story and fall sound asleep. We had to read the Three Bears, swat a few flies, and settle on petting a grasshopper. I had to hold the critter in my hand to illuminate the many legs. She giggled.
It was good to have an early head start to go to bed with my husband. Too many early nights are lost to "just one more story, Nana.Lay down with me, please, Nana, poppa."
3:AM with a roar and a snore, my honey moves closer to me. I think I''m going to get a little luckier than a pat on the fanny, when the night crawler enters. "Nana, Poppa, hug me. I'm having a dream."
" Is it a bad one?
" No , it's a dream."
" Is it scary?".
" Yes."
"Why?"
" You're in it!................ And the big bad mouse."
Summers in the fifties with our families were spent diametrically opposed to the the fine city of Chicago. Our cultural experiences changed from West Side Story to Home Home on the Range. Culture was spent at the Busy Bee diner over a Creek with a few surly fellows who gave my father another reason to tell a story . Buffalo Wyoming, was the main summer spot where we drove without the air conditioning, and my father's arm flying out the window. We spent the week anticipating our reunion with my fathers' brothers and sisters who had many critter stories.
My father, generally the tardy person in the family, causing my mother to do unusual contortions to her face as well as raising her normally quiescent voice, to a shrill, and hiccup.
None the less, when my father was on a mission to head for Buffalo, we left at the early rise of 3 AM, packed eggs, toilet paper, and a bowl.Not for the eggs. That was so we didn't take time to take bathroom stops.
So there was a pot in the back seat, just in case. "We have to drive clear through ."
My uncle was proud of the variety of places we could stay. Our family owned the main motel in town,,,,,no...we didn't stay there.
My uncle invited us to stay above his own theater. And that's where the critters be busy. So mom is taking a bath, I am surveying the apartment. Generally I have a plan to stay at my friends home for the summer. But mother says that being close to our family is best, because "we're critter clean."
Amusing, in one second, out from behind the door, my mother has one of those bursts of throaty words..all mispronounced...and then a naked leap from the tub...down into the movie theater....There is a mouse....
"Mother,Mother, you don't have clothes on. "
Although it was Mickey Mouse that was on the next hit parade, my mother's embarrassment led her kids to remind her of this highlight in our lives.
If I didn't have that memory, I wouldn't have thought about last night, as our granddaughter, tucked in her bed at 7:30 PM. Unusual that she was pooped and acquiesced to have one story and fall sound asleep. We had to read the Three Bears, swat a few flies, and settle on petting a grasshopper. I had to hold the critter in my hand to illuminate the many legs. She giggled.
It was good to have an early head start to go to bed with my husband. Too many early nights are lost to "just one more story, Nana.Lay down with me, please, Nana, poppa."
3:AM with a roar and a snore, my honey moves closer to me. I think I''m going to get a little luckier than a pat on the fanny, when the night crawler enters. "Nana, Poppa, hug me. I'm having a dream."
" Is it a bad one?
" No , it's a dream."
" Is it scary?".
" Yes."
"Why?"
" You're in it!................ And the big bad mouse."
Saturday, July 5, 2008
social clash
"Don't forget the luncheon is at 12:00 sharp. The girls can't wait to catch up. I'm sure you'll look great, you always do. Name is under Nana ."
I can't remember the last time I had lunch without looking at my watch. Not that it's that important. That kind of thinking would give pause to call me shallow. Not me. But there was a time when I was ecstatic about being free to do the things "ladies" do, once their chicks are out of the nest. I remembered the look on my mother's face when she pushed the last one of us out the door in order to get to "Michigan Avenue, Chicago". Oh! just to see the fashions. I couldn't wait for that moment in my life. And I do recall that the white gloves, and hat was going to make the fashionable statement.
I spent so many memorable years in the City of Chicago with my best friends and our moms. We did lunch!
Funny thing, I don't live in Chicago, we don't wear those gorgeous gloves, and the hat doesn't fit on my small head. I Magnin's out of business, Bonwitt Teller didn't wait for me, and the trademark for the wonderful lunch, followed by a Frango mint at Marshall Fields is a figment of my imagination.
Where in the world would all the grandma's go for lunch with their Grandchildren, if not the Walnut Room in Marshall Fields?
Perspective in our youth transforms at tremendous speed during our short lifetime. What we believe is going to happen probably doesn't . And we spend soooo much time getting upset that it does not follow our plan.
Many of us have spent a lifetime accruing titles, status, diplomas in order to find a morsel of who we are.
Who are we? Accountant, teacher, psychologist, doctor, spiritual leader, philosopher?
MBA, Phd, Jd.....and some have all of these.
My grandchild calls me by many loving names, but the main one is "Remember to pick me up and don't get lost, Nana."
When I pick her up from school, her expressive eyes dance, because I'm there.
When I tuck her in bed, her arms lock around my neck, and she's discovered the butterfly kiss.
"Just one more, Nana. " Call Poppa, I give him one too,.
When my friends call for lunch, I usually have a few spots on my blouse, the peanut butter and jelly does not match the feathers and leathers once admired.
My manicured fingernails, once so important, are finding treasures in the garden we just planted. And she's so proud of the roly poly she just found. She wants to know if she can sleep with the beetle?
Being a child's grandparent is an incredible experience. Raising a grandchild is ironic.
The parent you had yearned to be for your kids, is entrusted in their prodigy.
"Lunch is on me, girls. My treat. " Get the GPS out, Must pick up our little one. Can't be late. Next year, come to Arizona. No gloves, and no hat!
I can't remember the last time I had lunch without looking at my watch. Not that it's that important. That kind of thinking would give pause to call me shallow. Not me. But there was a time when I was ecstatic about being free to do the things "ladies" do, once their chicks are out of the nest. I remembered the look on my mother's face when she pushed the last one of us out the door in order to get to "Michigan Avenue, Chicago". Oh! just to see the fashions. I couldn't wait for that moment in my life. And I do recall that the white gloves, and hat was going to make the fashionable statement.
I spent so many memorable years in the City of Chicago with my best friends and our moms. We did lunch!
Funny thing, I don't live in Chicago, we don't wear those gorgeous gloves, and the hat doesn't fit on my small head. I Magnin's out of business, Bonwitt Teller didn't wait for me, and the trademark for the wonderful lunch, followed by a Frango mint at Marshall Fields is a figment of my imagination.
Where in the world would all the grandma's go for lunch with their Grandchildren, if not the Walnut Room in Marshall Fields?
Perspective in our youth transforms at tremendous speed during our short lifetime. What we believe is going to happen probably doesn't . And we spend soooo much time getting upset that it does not follow our plan.
Many of us have spent a lifetime accruing titles, status, diplomas in order to find a morsel of who we are.
Who are we? Accountant, teacher, psychologist, doctor, spiritual leader, philosopher?
MBA, Phd, Jd.....and some have all of these.
My grandchild calls me by many loving names, but the main one is "Remember to pick me up and don't get lost, Nana."
When I pick her up from school, her expressive eyes dance, because I'm there.
When I tuck her in bed, her arms lock around my neck, and she's discovered the butterfly kiss.
"Just one more, Nana. " Call Poppa, I give him one too,.
When my friends call for lunch, I usually have a few spots on my blouse, the peanut butter and jelly does not match the feathers and leathers once admired.
My manicured fingernails, once so important, are finding treasures in the garden we just planted. And she's so proud of the roly poly she just found. She wants to know if she can sleep with the beetle?
Being a child's grandparent is an incredible experience. Raising a grandchild is ironic.
The parent you had yearned to be for your kids, is entrusted in their prodigy.
"Lunch is on me, girls. My treat. " Get the GPS out, Must pick up our little one. Can't be late. Next year, come to Arizona. No gloves, and no hat!
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
snap, crackle, pop
Who says that life is more precious when predictable? I am here as an expert on creating and managing chaos, to suggest that 's too sane.
To be joining the Grandma Moses group, and raise our almost 4 year old, is an oxymoron. How could I be so old and yet feel so young?
Could I have had a lobotomy to have failed to remember the trials and tribulations of raising Cain and his sibling! The normal tirades along with the psycho tirades, lead me to believe that I shall be doing psychobabble soon.
But when the sweet face of this child with whom we are summoned by the grace of the early morning, and the light of day, settles into the softness of the evening, we realize that we couldn't predict our joy and splendor that guards the innocence of our beautiful one.
We've made peace with the parents, and the life of this child is graced not threatened.
So it's onward to a new day! A new dawn. And that's where this last couple months have been headed.
Until I got the call from my thoughtful husband as he said meet me at the mall. If you've been paying attention, I like to shop. Still do. So I met him at the mall. He insisted that I buy a little bobble..not too expensive, just something that is "not predictable." We have been so involved with child raising, that these little extras seemed like a luxury extraordinaire.
Without adieu, I obliged, made my selection, hugged my adorable one, and shared the little jewel when I came home with our little live jewel.
Not less than 24 hours later, the call came.
Snap, crackle, pop!
What was to be an abundant month, to say the least, with hopes for the future for our family, the domino effect, came tumbling as fast as hard in the next few months.
Snap, crackle, Pop. That's all I can say. We didn't snap...We are snapping to it. A little blog, a renewed license to get a "real job." and then some sales. Who says you have to be 22?
Crackle, just a bit...sometimes our voices tend to unsteady, but we do some cackle too.
And Pop! We are choosing to remain in the game of life, and build with the new generation.
To be joining the Grandma Moses group, and raise our almost 4 year old, is an oxymoron. How could I be so old and yet feel so young?
Could I have had a lobotomy to have failed to remember the trials and tribulations of raising Cain and his sibling! The normal tirades along with the psycho tirades, lead me to believe that I shall be doing psychobabble soon.
But when the sweet face of this child with whom we are summoned by the grace of the early morning, and the light of day, settles into the softness of the evening, we realize that we couldn't predict our joy and splendor that guards the innocence of our beautiful one.
We've made peace with the parents, and the life of this child is graced not threatened.
So it's onward to a new day! A new dawn. And that's where this last couple months have been headed.
Until I got the call from my thoughtful husband as he said meet me at the mall. If you've been paying attention, I like to shop. Still do. So I met him at the mall. He insisted that I buy a little bobble..not too expensive, just something that is "not predictable." We have been so involved with child raising, that these little extras seemed like a luxury extraordinaire.
Without adieu, I obliged, made my selection, hugged my adorable one, and shared the little jewel when I came home with our little live jewel.
Not less than 24 hours later, the call came.
Snap, crackle, pop!
What was to be an abundant month, to say the least, with hopes for the future for our family, the domino effect, came tumbling as fast as hard in the next few months.
Snap, crackle, Pop. That's all I can say. We didn't snap...We are snapping to it. A little blog, a renewed license to get a "real job." and then some sales. Who says you have to be 22?
Crackle, just a bit...sometimes our voices tend to unsteady, but we do some cackle too.
And Pop! We are choosing to remain in the game of life, and build with the new generation.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
prozac moment
Personally, I tell you, a morning riser is not in my genes. Apparently not in the little one as well. Not at all a combo recipe for successful habit training for promptness. I hadn't realized the trial and tribulations of being the "role model." After all, the world revolves around a time table...punctuality. The problem with that theory, is it's not my time table.
Secondly, when things run amok, and they do, my potty mouth was once an excellent source of "outlet." One word could create a beautiful line of defense. I could create so many euphemisms. So now, my potty mouth is now defunct I probably could sell some phrases on e bay...but I would get time out. As a role model, I've offered an incentive for me..if I initiate the time out for myself, I get to take an extra cat nap during the day. Now that's a fair deal..
I'm actually a pretty down to earth human being. I like to do the usual things most do. An everyday cocktail could consist of the following ingredients to satisfy my appetite: Abundance, health, some spiritual blend of religion, a dash of culture, and insatiable appetite for learning. Did I say fun. I love to laugh. I've been known to cry, but I'd rather not.
So it's not at all going to startle you, I'm sure, when you learn that the patter of feet at 5AM..glaring eye ball to eye ball...poking fidgeting fingers to unlock the tiny crusty eyelids I've trained to remain shut through the wee hours....hugely changed the apparently boring routine I had going.
"Nana, Are you up?
I 'm Tirsty!
Get up!"
So what I say to myself. I'll get up..Lift off and go back under the covers. Not without the WHINE!
It escalates!
Oh no... Don't lose it...You don't want to lose it! I'll get the bottle..You can have them all....all the sippy cups. here!!!!Drink till your hearts content!
5:30...the drawer in the kitchen opens! Didn't see it at first. My little tyke now has to run potty. Oh yes...Nana....Potty...Don't come in.
Yippee! I can trust her..She knows how to do the run...pee, wipe call Nana for the check up, wash hands...details good.
6 AM Husband comes barreling in the room...I'm up like I've never been. It appears the opened drawer our tyke reached in, was created to inspire some of the kiddo's personal improvement.
Seems like an entertaining moment, for our tigress, who turned her beautiful thick hair , once illuminating her distinctive facial features,into a cropped officially chopped hair cut. 2 seconds..max.
I didn't raise Cain! Looked into her opaque large black eyes, wide with inspiration, and sincere apologies..."Sorry, Nana, Shouldn't have done that..Won't do that again."
"No you won't." You probably will be wearing a wig!
Off to school...early...Don't worry about being tardy. We'll get you there for the early bird special.
Secondly, when things run amok, and they do, my potty mouth was once an excellent source of "outlet." One word could create a beautiful line of defense. I could create so many euphemisms. So now, my potty mouth is now defunct I probably could sell some phrases on e bay...but I would get time out. As a role model, I've offered an incentive for me..if I initiate the time out for myself, I get to take an extra cat nap during the day. Now that's a fair deal..
I'm actually a pretty down to earth human being. I like to do the usual things most do. An everyday cocktail could consist of the following ingredients to satisfy my appetite: Abundance, health, some spiritual blend of religion, a dash of culture, and insatiable appetite for learning. Did I say fun. I love to laugh. I've been known to cry, but I'd rather not.
So it's not at all going to startle you, I'm sure, when you learn that the patter of feet at 5AM..glaring eye ball to eye ball...poking fidgeting fingers to unlock the tiny crusty eyelids I've trained to remain shut through the wee hours....hugely changed the apparently boring routine I had going.
"Nana, Are you up?
I 'm Tirsty!
Get up!"
So what I say to myself. I'll get up..Lift off and go back under the covers. Not without the WHINE!
It escalates!
Oh no... Don't lose it...You don't want to lose it! I'll get the bottle..You can have them all....all the sippy cups. here!!!!Drink till your hearts content!
5:30...the drawer in the kitchen opens! Didn't see it at first. My little tyke now has to run potty. Oh yes...Nana....Potty...Don't come in.
Yippee! I can trust her..She knows how to do the run...pee, wipe call Nana for the check up, wash hands...details good.
6 AM Husband comes barreling in the room...I'm up like I've never been. It appears the opened drawer our tyke reached in, was created to inspire some of the kiddo's personal improvement.
Seems like an entertaining moment, for our tigress, who turned her beautiful thick hair , once illuminating her distinctive facial features,into a cropped officially chopped hair cut. 2 seconds..max.
I didn't raise Cain! Looked into her opaque large black eyes, wide with inspiration, and sincere apologies..."Sorry, Nana, Shouldn't have done that..Won't do that again."
"No you won't." You probably will be wearing a wig!
Off to school...early...Don't worry about being tardy. We'll get you there for the early bird special.
Monday, June 30, 2008
bio
Raising the Blog!
There are several things I like to repeat over and over
1.Movies, I can see some over and over. "Imitation of Life.." 1954
2. Love to eat great food
3. Oh yes.. I like to shop...
I've accomplished several important milestones. Marriage-1965...to a man I can safely say still adores me and I him.
Raising 2 children...one Cain and the other Abel.
Graduated with a degree that helps others learn about themselves, cope better, and gain truths beyond their imagination...I'm a Licensed Clinical Social Worker...Over 30 years..
Responsible for caring for my elderly mother through the sunset of her life.
Travelled throughout the years through Europe, U.S. Canada, South America, Mexico, Mid East..
Took a deep breath.,...looking forward to the retirement years with a sense of new purpose and freedom.
While none of this is earth shattering, I have felt a sort of accomplishment...Enough to say, permission granted to go out on the golf course, take an extra trip, and meet the quilting group, or just play Maj.
Why is this not going to happen????
I'm raising Cain's Baby!!!!!
Stay tuned!
There are several things I like to repeat over and over
1.Movies, I can see some over and over. "Imitation of Life.." 1954
2. Love to eat great food
3. Oh yes.. I like to shop...
I've accomplished several important milestones. Marriage-1965...to a man I can safely say still adores me and I him.
Raising 2 children...one Cain and the other Abel.
Graduated with a degree that helps others learn about themselves, cope better, and gain truths beyond their imagination...I'm a Licensed Clinical Social Worker...Over 30 years..
Responsible for caring for my elderly mother through the sunset of her life.
Travelled throughout the years through Europe, U.S. Canada, South America, Mexico, Mid East..
Took a deep breath.,...looking forward to the retirement years with a sense of new purpose and freedom.
While none of this is earth shattering, I have felt a sort of accomplishment...Enough to say, permission granted to go out on the golf course, take an extra trip, and meet the quilting group, or just play Maj.
Why is this not going to happen????
I'm raising Cain's Baby!!!!!
Stay tuned!
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