the ghost of gma mary

A couple weeks ago I woke up to my first cup of tea and some quiet reading.

Or so I thought. What actually happened was that I entered the living room and got sucked into a skirmish. The kid variety. Gramps had already been sucked into the vortex. This was how it went down...

Maddie: Grammy, Duncan and John lost the key to my 4 wheeler and I can't find it.
Me: Can you ride without the key?
Maddie: No. I looked all through the couch, but all I found was popcorn. (Last night was popcorn movie night...Duncan misses his mouth more often than not, but that's another story.)
Me: That could be a problem then. (I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer before my morning tea.)
Maddie: Grammy will you help me look?

So that was when I felt that first gentle tug into a situation I had accidentally stumbled blindly into. We searched between all the cushions, and I ran my hands down into areas of the couch I hadn't felt in years. We found a missing sock, but no key. Gramps lifted the couch and turned it over and we searched every nook and cranny. We did the same thing to his chair for good measure.

No key. But the floors under the couch and chair got vacuumed nice and tidy, sans popcorn and other unidentifiable food and garbage.

By the time I finished that (still without my first cup of tea), I was a bit irritated at two boys who had spent the whole time we were looking for the key THEY lost, playing in the bedroom with army men. That was when the ghost of Gma Mary materialized inside me. I marched into the kids' bedroom and informed the boys that they needed to use their brains to remember where they had left the key, and find it.

Both boys looked at me like I had sprouted two heads and was speaking a foreign language. I repeated myself, and told them to get UP and come and look for the key. They moaned and groaned and dragged into the living room. John had to recover from two feet he said weren't working before he could get to the scene of his crime.

John said he had left it on the couch and that was all he could remember. Dunc said John had the key last, trying to absolve himself of any connection to the crime. I told him his alibi didn't work, because he had started the chain of events by removing the key from the four wheeler.

After a half hearted search, the boys thought they were free and clear. I upped the ante at that point, thinking they would make a better effort to FIND THAT KEY. I told them they could not ride on the four wheeler anymore since the key was gone. They wouldn't be able to start the engine.

John: Dat's ok. I got my own four wheeler.
Dunc: I don't care. Doesn't matter to me.

This was when things started to escalate. I decided to hit them where it hurt, because Maddie was the only one upset by the missing key and loss of four wheeler riding time.

Me: Ok then, no more video games when you are here too.
Dunc: Fine.

Hmm, Dunc was playing tough guy. While I thought about my next move I looked for John, who was so crushed he had locked himself in the laundry room. My next statement was meant to win a stunning victory, but it worked out somewhat differently.

Me: John, there are mice in the laundry room. (Actually there are only traps.)
John: I am getting a chocolate milk. (YooHoo, a drink made mostly of chocolate, water and sugar.)
Me: You can't have a YooHoo if you didn't eat breakfast.

zombie grandkids- yes that is a YooHoo in John's hand

Gramps: He ate a cinnamon roll. (WTH did that come from? Now they were triple teaming me.)
Me: A cinnamon roll does not count as breakfast. It is sugar.  (Giving Gramps the stink eye)...Now he wants to follow sugar with sugar.
John: I will eat my egg then have chocolate milk.
Me: The egg that was on the table? I threw it away when I cleaned the table off.
John: But I wanted that egg. (Chin quivering and pitiful eyes.)
Me: (Gma Mary standing firm.)Then you need to eat it when breakfast is served. I don't leave food on the table all day.

I could feel myself gaining ground. I was ready to zoom in for the kill, play my ace in the hole. Then John started to cry. Which of course made Gramps totally crumple. I was breathing hard by this time and my eyes were beginning to bulge. Gramps took a breath to say something but I shot them both down before anything could be said. I included Dunc in this shot. I was going to overwhelm them with THE TRUTH.

Me: Have you ever heard of nutrient dense and calorie dense foods? Nutrient dense means that there are lots of vitamins and minerals in the food you eat and calorie dense means...

I noticed their faces. John was looking at me like I had sprouted a third head, Dunc had one eyebrow raised almost to his hairline and a smirk on his face, and Gramps' eyes were rolling in his head like he was having a seizure.

Then the ten year old slipped in and struck the final blow.

Dunc: I don't know and don't care.
Gramps: I was going to say the same thing.
John: (speechless and staring at me...)
Me: OK THEN. Since my money is what buys most of the food around here, I just won't buy any more CINNAMON ROLLS. EVER. And no more YOOHOO either.
Dunc: whaaaaat? Fine then, I WON'T COME ANYMORE.
John: (crying...suspiciously fake sounding sniffing)
Gramps: (seizure continues)
Me: FINE THEN, Maddie can come alone. Maddie, the next time you come, we will do lots of fun things together. We can shop, and go to the park.
Maddie: There is a park here?
Me: No, it is in Jasper. In fact there are LOTS of parks in Jasper. (I see Dunc is unimpressed, and I know I have to dig deep and find his Achille's heel.)
Maddie: ok Grammy that sounds fun.
Me: Oh, and we can go fishing Maddie. Lots of fishing. LOTS. (Dunc's eyebrows shoot up, and I am pretty sure he is buying this.)

So I play my trump card.

Me: Oh, and Gramps, sell Dunc's fishing rod, since he won't be needing it anymore. (Duncan has forgotten he doesn't own a fishing rod here, he uses Gramps' tackle.)
Dunc: WAIT...WAIT!!!! YOU CAN'T SELL MY FISHING ROD! I need it to fish!
Me: No you won't need it, since you won't be coming anymore.

At that point, I began to grin, and saw Dunc starting to smile, Gramps started to chuckle, and Maddie was laughing. I looked around for John, who had been strangely quiet...

He had downed a nutrient rich banana in 2 seconds. While we were skirmishing. He was going to do whatever it took to get that YooHoo.

Gma Mary had won again. She taught us well.  Jones women never lose a skirmish.

And John got his YooHoo.

...life is good... Cath
i am @jonesbabie on twitter

ambulance chasing

June 26, 2015 was an important day for Stevie Wonder. Due for the first checkup since nearly dying in April when his pacemaker had to be replaced after an epic failure to pace his heart (read about it here), he was understandably nervous because he had developed atrial fibrillation after the new pacemaker was placed in his chest.  His recovery from the second surgery was a bit rough compared to the first time.  I tried to reassure him that he was doing ok, and just had to give himself time to heal.  He was a bit whiny about the whole thing in my opinion, but I think that was because my patience was thin from dealing with my own breast cancer and surgery, which was taking place almost simultaneously to what Steve was enduring.

The twins were staying with us for a few days, so they went with us to the clinic. We were going to wait for Gramps to get all his tests finished, then go eat a late breakfast. We left at the crack of dawn for an hour long drive to the clinic. Duncan used the seat belt as a hammock for his head so he could sleep.

Duncan in a head sling

As we walked into the clinic (it was attached to the main hospital), I was explaining to Maddie what an echocardiogram was and the way I watched Gramps heart beating on the monitor when he was in ICU, before his pacemaker was put in. Her response to what I felt was a brilliant description was: "Disgusting!".

the long wait

 As we sat waiting, we talked, and I played a few games of checkers with the kids. Time passed...one hour, then two. As we began our third hour of waiting the kids were about to mutiny from hunger and thirst.  So I took them to another part of the clinic to get some juice and a snack.  As I was digging money out of my purse to buy juice for the kids, Maddie (who was standing near the hall) uttered the fateful words: "There goes Gramps".

I figured she meant he had walked past and was headed to the waiting room looking for us.  I said as much, and that was when she lowered the boom: "No, he wasn't walking, he was on one of those rolling tables."

"WHAT?" I said.
"He was on a rolling table Grammy."
At this point I looked a little panicky because I was caught between putting a $1 bill in a machine for a snack for Maddie, and taking off after the gurney. Maddie made my mind up quickly when she said: "I don't need a snack Grammy!"
So we took off down the hall. The hall took several turns, like a snake. Maddie had run ahead to scout Steve's location as I brought the rear up with a still sluggish Duncan. She would get to one turn, I would shout at her "CAN YOU SEE HIM?", she would shout back "YES I CAN", and then we would advance to the next bend in the hall.

In my mind the whole time was that SW had collapsed during the stress test, and they had come looking for me to tell me they were transporting him to wherever they needed to go to fix him, and couldn't find me because I WAS BUYING EFFING SNACKS FOR STARVING GRANDKIDS.

After what felt like a mile of scouting, reporting and running, I ran out of steam as I made it to the last bend and saw the end of the gurney and a nurse waaaaaaaaaaaay down the hall just going out of sight. I decided we would go back to the waiting room and wait until someone found us and told us the bad news.

So we sat there, they split Duncan's honeybun and drank their juice and I fidgeted like I had ants in my pants. About an hour later, Steve walked in the door of the waiting room.

bubba gramps

WALKED.  I jumped up and almost shouted at him "ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?"
He looked at me like I had lost my mind and said "yes".
I said "did you go by on a gurney about an hour ago?"
"No" he said.

Then it hit me.

I had been chasing a stranger down the halls of the hospital. I asked Maddie how she knew it was Gramps on the gurney. She said: "because he had white hair and was wearing a mask like Gramps does when he is sleeping."  Steve saw my face and knew something was up, so I had no choice but to tell him what had happened.

He started laughing.

He was still laughing 4 hours later every time someone called to check on him and he got to tell the story again.

an anticlimactic end to the morning, at Waffle House

I thought I had finally lived it down until Steve said a few hours later:

I would have loved to see what happened if you'd caught that gurney and saw you'd been chasing a stranger down the hall.

Steam started coming out of my ears at this point.

I am now the victim of another Steve story, which grows with "embellishments" every time he tells it.


...life is like chasing gurneys, you never know where you are going or what lies ahead. ~cath
i am @jonesbabie on twitter

throwback thursday

way back in about 1986

Maddie was looking through some photos I had posted online and found one of my kids and me in about 1986.  She identified everyone in the photo but one person, and asked me "Grammy, who is that?"  I told her it was me, and she repeated her question two more times in disbelief.

She finally said:  You're as little as your kids!
I said: well Maddie I was a lot younger then, and the kids had mostly gotten as big as me (with the exception of Wretch, who was about Maddie's age).  (No way was I going to comment on what she obviously meant, which was that I was THINNER.)

Then Duncan started in: that's you?  that's YOU?  THAT'S YOU???
*sigh*
Me: Yes Duncan it is me.
Duncan: You look like you need to be married.
Me: I was Duncan, to Gramps.  That's why I was as LITTLE AS THE KIDS...I got married when I was a kid...(sort of...I was 17).  :)

Gramps, me and some of the kids and grandkids in fall 2014

Link up any Throwback Thursday photos you would like to share, in the comments below.

...laugh, life is good! ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

my last friday, friday reflection: why do i write?

This week I chose to use the question "why do you write?" as my Friday Reflections prompt.

It's no secret.  I write for my grandkids first, and family second.  That anyone reads my blog still amazes me.  I mean, how interesting can the things I write about be, really?  Unless you all read it for the same reason I read lots of blogs:

To get a glimpse of how you think, feel, and be a part of your world/life for a brief time.

I was reading blogs long before I was writing one (which is almost 5 years now).  I hope that when my grandkids are older, they read what I have written and say "oh yeah, I remember that!" and that through my words, poetry, and photographs they will remember me, and someday tell their kids about me.  I think of my blog as a series of letters, published publicly, but still so very much like personal letters I would write to them.

I feel that if I capture just a portion of my memories and daily life, then I have left something of myself behind.

As a child I used to think that only people with huge talent, who were creative and famous in their lifetime, really made their "mark" on the world.  Then I read about people like the artist Vincent Van Gogh (who comes immediately to mind), whose talent was not appreciated until after he died.  Now I am not intimating that I am that talented, nor do I expect to be noted for what I have created during my lifetime.  But what I did want was to leave some kind of stamp behind, something tangible that my family could touch, read, feel, to let them know I was here.

And so my blog happened.  I have painted since I was a child, and been a seriously amateur photographer for many years, but the urge to blog surprised even me.  As time went on and my thoughts meandered all over the place, I thought I would eventually run out of things to say.  I have slowed down a bit from that first furor to capture as much as possible of my thoughts, but I still feel the urge to write, except in times of great stress, when my brain just sort of shuts down.  Eventually, the stress passes and my thoughts start to flow again.  Life is dynamic, and so I realize even as I go through dips, that they will pass, and my thoughts will come again.

Writing, for me, is like the ebb and flow of life...


...and life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

revelations from a relaxed housewife

I've been struck with a serious case of spring fever.  I spent a chunk of change over the weekend on a new, amazingly lightweight vacuum (#Dyson move over, you've met your match in the #Shark). This vacuum, while being small, is amazingly strong when it comes to suction, so much so that I find myself being pulled along by it, rather than having to push it, and struggling to run along and keep up.  In 20 minutes the first day I (rather embarrassingly) found it was able to suck up two of the little dust canisters of dirt out of my rug. And that was just down the middle of the house. God knows what is hiding in the corners and under furniture.  I call the new vacuum (drum roll) Jaws.  (Now you weren't really surprised by that were you?)

I also bought a new mop, mop bucket and other odds and ends, including some flower and herb seeds, and some dahlia bulbs.  Of course, we all know that spring cleaning and flower planting go hand in hand, in an odd way, like ketchup and mustard.  I chose to clean my bathroom first (Steve has his own bathroom too, cleaned by Wretch currently.  When she moves out, I don't know what I'll do, because that is no longer my territory and Steve's lack of cleanliness (as in cleaning up after himself) has caused some really strange things to grow in that shower in the past.  I spent hours cleaning my bathroom yesterday.  Hours.  That included scrubbing the floor on my hands and knees.  When my knees got tired, I discovered that the downward dog comes in real handy for scrubbing floors.  I always knew that yoga would have some hidden benefits, and it paid off handsomely yesterday, saving me from crawling around on my hands and knees for what seemed hours.

Now my bathroom is ready for the twins on Wednesday.  Which means that Duncan will immediately hose the back of the toilet seat and lid, as well as the floor, when he goes to pee.  (Sigh.)  At least I will have a couple days to enjoy my bathroom before it begins to stink like a male urinal.

While I was spring cleaning, I was also cleaning out emails, and files, and stuff.  Cybercleaning I guess you would say, and ran across the following paragraphs sitting in my blog draft box.  I wrote them on February 6, 2014, almost a year ago, and decided I'd throw it in with this post.  It has nothing to do with what I just wrote, but that is kind of the way I roll.  Eclectic right now to my fingertips.


2/6/2014
Kids say the funniest things.  From the time they first attempt to say words and make sentences and butcher them in weird combinations, until they are old enough to have a good command of language but are still naive to the nuances and subtleties, kids make adults laugh.  Personally, that's why I think they were put on earth...to make grownups laugh.  It's an unwritten law of nature.

My grands are no exception to the kid rule.  Lately Stevie Wonder and I have sniggered behind our hands many times at things they have said.

jack and gramps

Jack (9yrs old and the wisest of the bunch): Gramps you better be careful and don't get fat.  The girls won't be interested in you if you are too fat.  That's why I don't want to get too fat, the girls won't like me.
Gramps: Well Jack, I'm not interested in other girls.  I have Grammy. 
Jack: Grammy might leave you. 
Gramps: After 43 years I don't think I have to worry about that.  (Thinking this would be the end of it.)

Jack: You don't ever know, Gramps. (Then the zinger.) YOU'RE 43 YEARS OLD?

dunc

Maddie had strep throat this week, so Jen took her to the pediatrician when she took Duncan for his well child checkup.  Maddie's blood pressure was up, probably because of the infection.  Jen said when they got in the exam room, Dunc (whose blood pressure was normal) curled up in a chair, covered his eyes in a dramatic gesture with one hand and laid over the side of the chair.  She knew something was coming.

Dunc: I don't think I am going to make it.  My blood pressure is too low and that means I don't have enough blood.  (He's totally normal by the way.)

john boy

Steve told me that he was displaying a bit of road rage the other day while John was riding with him in the truck.  He said that he had been hollering in the car at people ahead of him to get out of his way.  He was running late getting somewhere and told John:
"If these people would get out of the way, we'd get there faster!"

John, sitting in the back seat taking all of this in, politely asked Steve to roll his window down (he was strapped in a car seat so there was no danger of him falling out).  Steve thought John was hot, so he rolled the window down to give him some fresh air.  He said as soon as he got the window down, John leaned his head out and started shouting
"Get out the way!!!   GET OUT THE WAY!!!"
John loves helping his Gramps.  Guess that extends to road rage too.
We are still laughing.

...laugh, because life is good. ~cath 

 find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

my saturday friday reflection: things that make me smile

Participating in blog prompts is not always an easy endeavor for me.  I tend to dislike boundaries, and will shoot myself in the foot (figuratively) to avoid being tied to any one thing.  But today is an exception.  When I saw the prompt that said to name 30 things that make me smile, I knew this post was a cinch.

I smile easily.  I've always been a grinner.  So much so that as I left for school on picture day every year, mum would tell me not to smile too big (my gums would show in a geeky kind of way when I did).  I think most years I forgot her advice as soon as I was out the door.

Smiling doesn't always show on the outside though.  I experience a lot of secret smiles, and those feel just as good as the visible smiles.  Only in times of great stress do I not smile as much.  The past few months have been like that for me.  But lately I have met some goals, made some changes in my life, and I find I am smiling more.  So today I will share a list of things that make me smile, in no particular order of importance.

1. Smiling.  No, it isn't as goofy as it sounds.  When I smile at someone, they always smile back.  And that makes me smile more.  All the way inside.  (Smiling is contagious.)
2. My grands.  They turned a middle aged woman into a Grammy.  I smile every time I think of those four goofy, funny kids.
3. Star Trek movies.  I've been watching all the original crew movies tonight and realize that some of the best one liners ever written are in those movies, and they have a knack of inserting them into the most serious scenes.  (Scotty just said "then we are dead" in the Undiscovered Country, and Spock replied "I've been dead before" in that deadpan way that makes me smile every time.  As I just did.)
4. Cartoons.  Especially cartoons with no speech, just sight gags.  My dad loved the Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote cartoons and so do I.

5. Audio books.  I have discovered the joy of having someone read a book to me in my ear.  A recent favorite that made me smile (and laugh out loud) was Craig Ferguson's Between the Bridge and the River. 
6. Social media.  That's right.  I can read something on Twitter or Facebook and find myself smiling.  Instagram and Pinterest have some great stuff for smiling about too.  A recent post on Facebook that I shared with my sisters was this:

And this leads to....

7. My sisters.  They make me smile.  No matter that we live thousands of miles apart.  I always smile when I think of them.  They are total goofballs, just like I am.

8. My kids.  Different than the grands because they were a lot of work to raise.  Thank goodness they all have my warped sense of humor (with a bit of their dad's too).

9. Stevie Wonder.  I married him because he made me smile.  Great at jokes and storytelling with an authentic southern accent, he stole my heart with a joke, and he still makes me smile.

10. Funerals.  That's right.  Some of the best jokes and stories I have heard have been at funerals.

11. Clouds.  I am a cloud watcher.  Not only do they totally relax me, taking me to another place, but I often find myself smiling.

12. My dogs. Especially Gabe.  He is a natural clown.  Caesar is softhearted and loving.  Gabe is a mauler and licker and loves to poke his nose in everything.

13. Ivy Jones, my grandcat.  At 15, her cranky personality makes Wretch and I laugh every day about some antic or behavior.  Today she was wailing at me when I got home, and when I gave her some of her treats, she sniffed them, then looked around at me with a haughty expression as if to say "you expect me to eat THIS?"  Needless to say, she got the real deal, some turkey meat.

Now I am getting into the smiling/laughing category, which still counts in my eyes.

14. Falling.  I am a chronic faller.  Years ago I plowed up the pavement in our local town with my face.  Hours later, sitting and waiting at the ER (Wretch was with me), I looked up to see her STARING at my face.  I looked down with my eyes only, and could see my top lip poking out beyond the end of my nose.  I looked back up at her, and we both burst out laughing.   

15. Steve's pacemaker.  Yep that's right.  The day he got his pacemaker put in, the kids showed up to be with me.  When we got him back in the room and we realized he was going to be ok, it was time for joking and smiling.

the brats

Steve's attempt at corpse pose.

16. People watching.  I love to watch people, and seeing how they interact often makes me smile.  Especially parents interacting with their kids.  Watching parents try to keep up with active kids gives me a big grin.  And a sigh of relief that I don't have to do that anymore.
17. Touching stories about real people.  Humans can do such evil, horrible things to each other, and it is always gratifying to see something good done by one human for another.  Today this is what moved me to smile, and tears:

18. Watching someone succeed at something for the first time makes me smile. The day Duncan looked up at me, (after his mommy's struggle to find the right medication for ADD) and told me "I'm smart Grammy" made me grin from ear to ear.  I knew he was smart all along, just trapped in his own head.

marmite

19. Meeting a new friend for the first time.  That first smile, and hug, sets a tone of love and acceptance.
20. Marmite.  Thought I'd hate it, but I love it.  Even the name makes me smile.
21. Meeting old friends again after years apart.  I ran into one of my best friends at my high school reunion a while back and we were both full of smiles for each other.  It was as though no time had passed, and we fell into the place we were years ago, totally comfortable and enjoying being with each other.
22. Painting.  I've been drawing and painting since I was a young child.  I often smile as I work on an idea.  It is the joy I feel, coming to my face.
23. Secret smiles.  An inside or private joke that only I understand, or something between me and another person that is shared with a glance and a smile.
24. Rewatching old movies that made me smile the first time I saw them, and smiling at the same moments when I watch them again.  It's like laughing at the same jokes, etc.  Causes smiles.

I'm going to end with #25, because it is the smile that I am wearing as I edit and read what I have written.  I live a blessed life.  A very blessed life.  In the midst of a world that can be so full of hate and anger, cynicism and cruelty, and sadness....I find reason to smile every day.

Think about it...what makes you smile?

...life is good. ~cath find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

slapping john

John has been sick.  He is the youngest grandson, a 4 year old trying to mix in with the world of his 9 year old cousins.  They don't always have patience with him, and being the youngest, he gets shoved aside sometimes when they are tired of him.

John had a flush on his face yesterday, cheeks so red that his mom took him to the doctor.  The red cheeks were caused by Fifth disease, also known as Slap disease, for the obvious reasons.

Gramps walked into the living room later that day and saw the three oldest sitting quietly on the couch, watching television.  He threw his hands on his hips and said in the booming voice he uses when he means no nonsense:

"John has Slap disease.  I want to know... who's been slapping John?!"

He said all three of their mouths dropped open in shock, like baby birds in a nest, as they loudly started protesting their innocence.

He was doubled over in laughter, telling me about it.

Sometimes, Gramps can be as evil as Grammy is.

...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

lessons i have (recently) learned

The grandkids and granddog are here this weekend, and as usual, they are teaching me some important life lessons:

1. No matter how fast I work, two hands and a container of Clorox Clean-Ups cannot keep up with the drips and messes that three 8 year olds, a 3 year old, a 66 year old, and one 6 month old Golden Retriever can make.  The math simply doesn't compute.  I was outnumbered before I picked up the container.

2. Lucy the Golden Retriever holds a grudge.  No matter how lovely her bath experience is, complete with mood lighting and incense, said dog will still get up in the middle of the night and urinate in the carpet to show who has the last word (or pee).  Then she will smile about it.

3. Gramps will cook breakfast for the kids, but he won't clean up the dog's urine.  But he will be considerate enough to wake me up at 6 AM on my day off to tell me the the dog peed the carpet. AFTER I clean up the pee spot, Gramps will tell me it probably happened because he closed the bedroom door during the night.  Too many night lights (read every lamp in the house on) disturbed his sleep, and he forgot that the dog would need to be able to get to ME to let me know she had to go out.  So peeing on the carpet was all my fault.

4. Telling the grands they stink is not an effective way to shame them into taking a bath.  They take pride in stinking.  The only effective tool is withholding cookies until they do get up and hit the shower.

5. Kids riding 4 wheelers in the yard is an effective way to exercise Lucy the dog.  It also keeps Lucy's attention and prevents wandering.  Until you want her to come in.  Then she turns into a greased pig and you can't lay a finger on her.

6. Guilt over forgetting your granddaughter's antibiotic will cause a return trip a day later to pick up the medicine for the cure.  Seventy miles of guilty road trip.  Although I still have to bear the burden of missing a couple doses.  (The bonus: all 4 kids get to stay with son and drive him crazy for a few hours.)  

7. Grandchildren will never spare your feelings if it means lying.  Maddie yesterday: "Grammy I hate to tell you this but this gravy doesn't taste good and I can't eat it."  I made that gravy from scratch, rather than the packaged crap Gramps fixes.  Maddie prefers the packaged crap powdered gravy.

8. It never pays to clean up my house before the grands arrive.  Five minutes after they get here, it looks like it did five minutes after they arrived for their LAST visit.  Which actually adds some symmetry to my life.

9.  I am the only one who can hear in this family.  The grands, Steve, Jim, and the granddog are all deaf to the sound of my voice.  But their noses all work fine.  They can smell a meal cooking from a mile away.

10. Maddie makes awesome meatballs.  Especially when I remember to tell her to go wash the dog hair off her hands before she gets too far into rolling them.  (We only had a few fuzzy meatballs in the pot, not even enough to cause a hairball in the throat.)

11. If you take a nap at my house when Sunday
dinner is ready, be prepared to eat tuna fish out of the package and gingerbread cookies.  Gramps might cook enough to feed us all, but when the spoon starts dipping servings, it is every woman for herself.  Even if the only reason you had to have the nap was because the dog kept licking your arm all night because she was lonely. 

12. Lucy can outrun us all.  So Steve doesn't even try.  He lets her in, waits until she's run mud all over the house, then wipes her paws off.

I give up.  I'm outnumbered.   I have medication somewhere to help me get through this. :)


...life is good. ~cath
 @jonesbabie on Twitter

generations

...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

diggin' up bones

Everytime I watch this video I laugh at the wonder and amazement in the grandkids' voices as they dig up "dinosaur" bones in a museum in the Petrified Forest.  The other thing that makes me laugh is their gullibility.  But that gullibility is also what makes children so much fun to watch.

I dread the day they become adults...may they never lose that gullibility.

Well...except when they deal with car salesmen.

...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

it's only a paper moon, dunc

I decided it was time to do something quality with the twins this weekend.  Jack was sick next door with strep throat, so they were going to be stuck with TV and video games on the iPad and iPhone.  I decided to be a better Grammy and offer something different.

We were going to make a paper zoo.  Yes, it was an app I found for the iPad, but perfect for us to use together, in a burst of creative genius.

The best laid plans of mice and men...and Grammies.

It wasn't too long into cutting out our first animals in the paper zoo that I realized two things.
1. It wasn't as easy as it said the easy level was going to be.
2. Dunc was totally not into it.

I cajoled as I struggled to cut out the pieces of the seal (there were 5 pieces), and he followed directions and cut them out, but became more and more withdrawn and appeared irritated, heaving several loud sighs along the way.

I played ignorant of his attempts to let me know how bored he was for two reasons.
1. I was determined to do something quality with the twins, even though Dunc had told me earlier that Maddie and I could make the seals and he would just watch TV.  (TV? NO WAY!)
2. I have been artistic all my life and couldn't believe any grandchild of mine would be so uninterested in creating something from a piece of paper.

Maddie was happily cutting away, and trying to engage Dunc too.  He got more and more morose as he realized that he couldn't squirm out of this, until he finally threw his paper and scissors down, and put his head in his hands in utter despair.

I realized then I could do one of two things.
1. Force him to participate, even if it killed him (and I think he was thinking it might).
2. Give up on my expectations and let him be who he was.

I chose the second, because I will never be a Grammy who forces fun on anyone.  This obviously wasn't fun to anyone but me and Mad anyway, so we forged happily on struggling to cut and paste together a zoo.

We finally got the seals finished, and even completed Dunc's for him.  Maddie's seal had blue eyes, she thinks because it was a special seal, even though I told her it was because I was running out of ink on the printer.

Maddie asked if we could do another one.  I had fingers full of glue, and was tired from sitting in a child's chair that was one foot off the floor.  So I candidly told her that there was no way I was doing another animal today, but we could plan what to do the next time she came back.

She chose the giraffe.  Which is way up the food chain.  I know this because it has about 35 pieces to cut and glue.

I plan to drink a big glass of wine before we take on the giraffe.  Or I might decide to go watch TV with Duncan.

...life is very good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

well...not exactly, duncan

Jack, our oldest grandson, was baptized today, and most of the family was there.

Dunc said "when you're baptized you get to start a new life and you have to be nice to your sister."

He better watch out or Maddie will be trying to baptize him in the hot tub the next time they are here.


















...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

she's all that and more

I am a Type B personality.  They don't come more laid back than I am.  I am the one who got lost in Disneyland when I was a kid.  The one who got lost at the State Fair as an adult.  The one who gets caught up in what is going on around me and totally forgets everything and everyone but the moment.  The one who can read a book in a noisy crowd, and tune everything and everyone out.

Two of my kids are a bit like me.  One is the polar opposite.  My oldest, Jen.  The accountant who loves numbers and organizing.  The kind of stuff that makes me break out in a sweat.  Her twins were going to be like me I decided before they were born.  The type of people who would experience the world completely, and not try to organize it.

Duncan is sort of like that.  Since he was put on medication for ADD he has become focused and is a different boy.  He can finish tasks now, but that doesn't mean he likes doing them.  The art stuff that is.  He did do a great job on his birdhouse, but I think he saw it as a chore.

Oh well, that leaves the girl.

Maddie has drawn pictures since she could hold a crayon.  They have gotten more intricate as she got older.  I chortled to myself in glee when I saw that.  Ok, here's the one who will be like me I thought to myself.  I loved her drawings, and had all these plans in my head for helping develop her into an artist who would set the world on fire with her talent.

Then she started making lists.  Of everything.  And I cringed.  That smacked of her mom's OCDness.  I thought I might be wrong.  So I kept encouraging her art.  And she drew, but she was making more lists than drawings.

Being the optimist that I am, I refused to give up on Maddie.  The boys were all lost causes, but I still had hopes and dreams for the girl.

Until Jen told me about the project they worked on for her Brownie Troup.  Something about healthy snacks.  What struck me was that Jen was trying to make Maddie be neat with the art part of the project, to protect her expensive table from glue and glitter.  Maddie decided to do it her way, and they got into an argument.  Jen told me she didn't realize how much Maddie is like her (which means she isn't like me) until she saw her at the Brownie meeting and watched her getting her fruit ready to be made into kabobs.  She showed me the photo and asked me what I noticed.  Now I may be Type B, but it jumped right out at me.  Right in my face.  And my despair climbed as I hollered:
She's got that damn fruit lined up perfectly!
Jen started laughing out loud.  Then I started laughing.  If you look at the photo, you will notice Maddie is the ONLY girl with her fruit organized.  Grapes lying side by side, not end to end, pineapple lying end to end, and a banana in the middle at the top and bottom to divide the fruit.  Even the look on her face is intensely OCD.  She is doomed I thought to myself.

As I left the next day, I noticed the orange tree poster.  Perfect.  I just sighed.  Then I remembered the letter Maddie wrote to her mom after their argument during the project.

The last line is what I noticed.  The one right above I love you.  It said: "besides, it doesn't have to be perfect."

There is still a faint little glimmer of hope burning in my heart for Maddie.

I just hope her mom doesn't snuff it out.



...life is really good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

brown cows

Thoughts passing through my mind as I lay sleepless last night:


1. Two Brown Cows will not cure the indigestion that woke me up at 3AM from the brownie I ate before bedtime.  Unlike hair of the dog, chocolate does not cure chocolate.
2. A 7 year old girl can sound strangely grown up on the phone, even with a slight lisp because she is missing several teeth.  (And what did you do last weekend Grammy?  You rested?  That's good, I am sure you needed it.")
3. It takes a 7 year old boy one try to get me kicked out of my own bed.  Dunc was firmly planted in my bed last night.  I told him he had to give it up tonight.  Stevie Wonder said he huffed when I left the room and said "she just thinks she's getting her bed back."
4. I thank God every day for my job.  Especially when the grandkids are spending the whole week, and my son tells me he is sure the 2 year old will want to join the 3 seven year olds.  Stevie Wonder may have second thoughts about retirement.
5. It takes exactly 7 seconds after the grandkids find out they are all staying for the arguments to begin.
6. Hot tubs make great babysitters.  They also make great bathtubs to wash the dust from the 4 wheelers off.
7. Grandkids can throw water out of the hot tub faster than we can pipe it back in.
8. Seven year olds will believe you when you tell them you put something in the hot tub water that will turn it orange if they pee in it.  A two year old won't care.
9. The sweetest thing in the world is my youngest grandchild running to me with his arms out hollering "hey Grammy!"
10. Every time I make a remark about something, it has the opposite effect.  Last week I bragged about the abundance of our garden, and even wrote a haiku about it.  This week it is turning into a wasteland, dying from the lack of rain.  Pitiful.
11. I will finally get sleepy enough to go back to sleep, five minutes before the alarm goes off.


but...life is good. ~cath
@jonesbabie on Twitter

talk to the hand

There is no end a Grammy will go to when she is trying to maintain peace in her house.  Especially when that is a fragile peace that has run amok because the two year old has smacked the six year old with a push toy, and the six year old is crying like he is dying, and the two year old looks like he is clueless about the whole thing.

I am a relaxed housewife, and grandmother.  Solutions like this one come easy:

1. John smacks Dunc with the above mentioned toy.
2. Dunc starts crying.
3. I am deep in the middle of a painting and trying to juggle research for a project at work at the same time.
4. I look up and see the whole family in my small work room.  (Stevie Wonder and all three grandkids.  Jack is the only GMIA*)  *GMIA=grandchild missing in action
5. I know I have to come up with something fast to get them out, before my creative well runs dry.
6. I try to soothe Dunc, but quickly notice he is milking it for all it is worth.

7. I tell him in a loud, dramatic tone of voice "oh my Dunc, it looks like you might lose that finger, I better do something fast!" (I am not sure which finger it is, they all look fine, so I ask Dunc and after pointing to a couple spots, we settle on the worst one.  It looks just like his other nine fingers.)
8. I tell Stevie W. to get the first aid kit.  He is clueless at this point and tries some fake move, like "we better stitch it up" and I look at him STERNLY and say "GET ME THE FIRST AID KIT NOW!"  He goes to get it.  I tell him to bring the gauze rolls too.
9. He brings everything we have for first aid back to me (he may be slow out of the gate, but he is good for the distance).
10. I unroll some gauze.  At that point Maddie scoffs and says "there's NOTHING WRONG with his hand Grammy".  I look her in the eye and say loudly "OH BUT THERE IS!"  and proceed to start wrapping his hand.  Maddie gets a look on her face that is somewhere between wanting to laugh and looking like she just bit a lemon.

11. Dunc is really into it now.  He holds his hand very still while I wrap it in gauze.  And tape it.  All done with my most professional Nurse Grammy attitude.  Steve has started to laugh by now and left the room.  Dunc's face is 1/2 inch from his hand as I finish taping it. Examining it.  Maddie still has that sour, laughing smirk on her face, her lips pursed tightly together.  As though she knows I am faking this, but she won't say it, just in case Dunc really is wounded.  But she knows.
12. Dunc (who stopped crying the minute I opened the roll of gauze), walks off, staring in fascination at his hand.

13. Maddie looks at me.  Lips still pressed together.  I ask her if she wants her wounds bandaged.  She just grins bigger.  And I know right then, she won't admit she isn't wounded, because if she wants to be part of this, she has to ACT the part.
14. I wrap her hand, she walks off loving every bit of the whole episode, and then I notice.
15. John standing there with his mouth open, wondering what the heck he has just witnessed.  He has no idea what it was, but Maddie and Dunc have something he doesn't.  So I grab the paper tape and put a piece on his hand, in the same place, minus the gauze, because I figure he will rip it right off.

The room has cleared.  I get back to painting.  And it took me less time to perform first aid than it did to write about it.

Score one for Nurse Grammy.

When John went home an hour later, he still had the tape on his hand.

Dunc and Maddie went to bed a while ago, bandages still in place on their hands.


...life is good.
~cath
Twitter @jonesbabie