Lucky 21

Welcome to the world, Charlotte Currin Richeson!

She arrived today at 4:35pm, all 7lbs/4oz, 20 inches of her and is now the fourth family member born on the 21st of the month. Big brother Liam (2/12), GrandMary (4/21), and great uncle Bill (11/21) are all lucky 21's.

Our good luck continues with Miss Charlotte.

Let's Get This Party Started

Countdown to Baby Charlotte's appearance. No, she's not here yet, but she is fully baked, and her mama would love the opportunity to hold her in her arms at this point. Today? Maybe tomorrow? Definitely Tuesday.

Everything's ready, sugar. You have the cutest little nursery-nook. Big brother Liam has big plans for you, and those can't commence until you come out into the light. And we all want to meet you. Now, come on and give your tired, weighted-down mama a break.

But for everyone else: Do keep mama and soon-to-be daughter in your thoughts and prayers over the next few days and hours. We'll let you know as soon as there's news to tell.

Dirt, Sticks, Crayons, Bubbles

Entertaining a three-year-old isn't really that hard, but you'd better have a lot of tricks up your sleeve. If one trick doesn't work -  or doesn't work for long- then pull out the next one. Just keep things moving.

In the course of one day, we've colored three gigantic Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles posters, made a couple of really cool bubble-snake apparatuses, spent an hour and a half at the park swinging, sliding, digging in the dirt, and throwing sticks, baked toll house cookies, read two books, and had a variety of snacks and meals. Sounds like a lot - and it was - but I had more possibilities waiting in the wings if any of those failed. As I said, you have to have a sleeve-full of endless tricks.

Somehow I think if we did the exact same list of things tomorrow, GrandBoy would find it entertaining. When we run out of Ninja Turtle coloring pages, we'll find something else to color. The bubble-snake thing won't run out until the dish soap and food coloring do. And dirt and sticks never run out at the park. See? Not so complicated.

After a day of dirt and sticks and crayons and bubbles, GrandBoy's in bed, plum tuckered out. And GrandMary's tuckered out, too. I will say, however, that my coloring skills are improving with every Ninja Turtle picture. I take direction well from a 3-year-old. Good practice for my dotage, me thinks.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm pooped.

SpiderGran

Daughter, GrandBoy, and I were enjoying a spring evening chowing down al fresco on deliciousness from the Crawfish Shack, when Liam spotted a spider web. As conversations turn with any 3-year-old, the spider web provided several minutes of in-depth discussion focusing on good vs bad, pretty vs scary, and spider web vs Spider-Man web.

Then I chimed in: "I bet we can make a spider web, too. All we need is some string or yarn." Well, you'd thought I'd suggested letting him loose in Toys R Us for an hour. Yes, a good idea, it was decided. We will create our own spider web.

I just let him think that I knew all about making spider webs because, hey, you can find instructions for making anything on Pinterest, right? When we got home I searched Pinterest for how to make a pretend spider web, and sure enough, I found quite a few, believe it or not. I settled on this one because it looked easy to make with handy materials, plus relatively sturdy (it's for a 3-year-old, remember).

By the time we had the time, yarn, and string ready to go, it was raining cats and dogs, so making the spider web outside was not going to happen. We scouted his room - with a stern warning from Daughter to not do anything that would do permanent damage to walls or furniture (yes, Mom) - and decided that the foot of his bed was the perfect place.

Liam watched, handed me string and scissors, and added his two-cents'-worth as I tied and looped and wove a big web at the foot of his bed. Ah, but it wasn't finished until the web had some inhabitants. GrandBoy instructed me repeatedly that the spider had to be a happy spider, not a scary one. Then we decided to make a happy snake, happy butterfly, happy bunny, happy monkey, and happy worm to live in the web with the very happy spider.

Now, the scenario would not be complete without Liam donning his Spider-Man suit. He was now truly the master of his webby domain.

Just call me SpiderGran.

Bunnies and Crosses

Easter is a hard thing to explain to a little child. Betrayal. Violent death. Sadness. Resurrection. Difficult stuff for adults to grasp, never mind a 3-year-old. I remember trying to tell the Easter story to my daughter when she was little. After the resurrection part, her eyes got big and she said, "Oooh! A ghost story!" Well, yeah, I can see how you'd think that. Hm.

That same daughter now wants to explain to GrandBoy what's happening this week.

There is more to this time of the year than bunnies, duckies, and chocolate eggs (though we love all of them) for us Christians. Yes, we have renewal, springtime, longer and warmer days. How bunnies got connected to eggs, I'll never know, but there's something lovely about baskets, colorful clothes, and little children running around outside seeking magical eggs and jelly beans. But as pretty as this spring ritual is, it's not the reason we honor Easter.

The story of betrayal, crucifixion, and resurrection is central to our faith. But that story is almost impossible to explain to literal-minded toddlers. Christmas is easy. A baby is born. Wise men, shepherds, and angels turn up with gifts and singing. It's Baby Jesus that a little child first comes to love because loving a baby is natural, understandable, literal.

But now comes the part of the story where that sweet babe has grown up and is nailed to a cross. (Yes, honey, that's why we have crosses everywhere . . . Oy.) And then, voila! After three days, the little grown up baby who died brutally, is alive again! Even adults - believers and non-believers - have big problems with all of that; they at least understand more complex concepts of personal sacrifice and salvation and faith. But a little child doesn't have that understanding. It's a literal, hard-edged world for them. Let's face it, bunnies are easier than crosses.

Christian parents struggle with this every year. We want our children to understand the reason for our faith, but that foundation is very hard to explain to a little child without causing trauma and nightmares. Yes, we necessarily soften it up, but even then, it's not an easy thing. All I can say is that we do the best we can, hoping our children eventually move beyond "Oooh! A ghost story!" phase.

If any of you have ways of telling the story or can recommend wonderful children's books that do a commendable job of introducing a little child to the Easter story sans bunnies and duckies, please share. We have both of the books pictured, by the way, and The Best Thing About Easter does gently deal with the Christian Easter story.

In the meantime, we'll do our best to make some headway, knowing that the bunnies and eggs will probably win the day, at least for a few more years. Happy Easter to all!

Jolly Green Hulk

Are the Jolly Green Giant and the Incredible Hulk related? They are Grandboy's mind. He spied the picture of the Green Giant on a package of broccoli and believing it to be the Hulk, got all excited about the superpowers he could acquire by eating Hulk-sponsored veggies.

Face it. Both guys are big and green. Easy to get them confused, except that one is smiling really big and one looks like he could tear your head off. Still, at a glance, all you're gonna see is big + green. 

Now, Liam's pretty good about eating his vegetables, though they're usually not the first thing on his plate he consumes. But that could change if he starts seeing broccoli, spinach, and Brussels sprouts as Hulk-food. And as long as no one clues him in to the difference between the Jolly "ho-ho-ho" Green Giant and Dr. Bruce Banner/aka the Hulk, this strategy might work for a week or two.

Perhaps JGG and the Hulk are brothers under the (green) skin. (Hm. I smell a good Avengers sub-plot cookin' here.) For now, little guys everywhere are happily eating their green veggies, thanks to big green guys.

Happy 3rd Birthday!

Our little guy is 3 years old today. He is joyful, imaginative, rough-and-tumble, and loving. What more could this GrandMary want in a GrandBoy? Happy Birthday, dear Liam. 

Raising a Superhero

Liam is deep into his superhero phase. Captain America, Spiderman, Batman, the Hulk - if the guy has outlandish powers of any kind, he's ripe for emulation. Capes and masks of all kinds are conveniently scattered around, just in case the superhero mood strikes. In the middle of Thanksgiving festivities last year, GrandBoy disappeared for a while, only to reappear as Captain America. And we gave thanks that he'd turned up. How many other families had a superhero at their Thanksgiving table?

I have no problem with superheroes, just as I have no problem with princesses. Pretending to be all-powerful stretches the imagination in all sorts of ways. And let's face it, childhood's probably the last time you think you can be all-powerful, since the teenage years pretty much destroy that notion. Trying on different supernatural gifts like flying, being invisible, climbing buildings, changing the world with a wave of a magic wand or by twisting magic ring lets a kid figure out all kinds of crazy things. Plus, the costumes are terrific.

But to grow up to be a real superhero,whether Captain America or Wonder Woman, Spiderman or Cinderella, there are some powers that translate into the real world.

I hope Liam never loses the superhero desire to help someone in trouble or in danger. I hope he never loses the passion for truth and justice. I hope he puts his superhero brain into action a little more than he puts his superhero physical powers to work. And may he ever resist and destroy evil to the best of his superhero abilities.

Let's face it, the real superhero and princess traits turn out to be some very basic things.

• a love for learning
• being a good friend and kind to strangers
• helping the less fortunate
• growing in faith and living into that faith
• being an informed citizen and actively participating in the civic process
• resisting stupid, dangerous impulses, like driving drunk
• developing natural talents and abilities
• developing a sense of humor
• putting family first and being a good parent
• treasuring every day

There are more super hero abilities, of course, and real superheroes discover them along the way. A 3-year-old pretending to be Captain America or Batman is just the start of the journey.

But what happens to super heroes and princesses when they get old? Why, they become grandparents, of course!

2013 Wishes

I have 2013 wishes for my dear GrandBoy and the little granddaughter who will join our family in a few months. Sometimes wishes are the most a GrandMary can give, so here they are:

I offer 500 wishes for your good physical and mental health. A strong body and healthy mind provide a firm foundation for every other aspect of your life. Take care of yourself.

I offer 250 wishes for an inquiring and discerning heart. I want you to wonder, to dream, to think, to figure things out - right from wrong, day from night, wise and unwise. Notice the word is "heart," not "mind." Whatever your intellectual pursuits and aspirations, may they always contain a dollop of humanity, of heart, of faith.

Which brings me to 250 wishes for your compassion. Don't be a meanie. Be strong enough to stand up for yourself and for other people, but don't be a bully. Always be able to imagine what it's like to be someone else, and act accordingly. Individualism is fine, but we're all in this world together. Learn the Beatitudes. Live by the Golden Rule as best you can. Find a way to practice your faith daily, in all kinds of situations.

Most of my wishes for you - 1013 wishes - are for your lives to be filled with love. You've been blessed with great loving families on every side. We are all here for you and love you more than you will ever understand, until, maybe, you have children of your own. Love your family back. You can depend on them to always be in your corner. Let them know that they can depend on you, too.

Find yourselves true friends and love them like crazy. They'll teach you about love in ways your family can't.

Love books and learning and travel and theatre and music and working with your hands and creating interesting stuff and helping other folks.

If you remember all the people and things you love every single day, you won't have much time to let whatever you hate take over your lives. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind, and this should be easier for you.

Liam and Granddaughter-to-be, those are my 2013 wishes for you.  Good health, a compassionate, discerning heart, and love. Lots of love. You have my heart. You have my love. May all 2013 wishes come true.

No Gifts and Gifts

Well, it didn't happen, my taking GrandBoy on a little Christmas shopping trip for his mama and daddy. Oh, we got close. Very close.

It was a rainy, rainy day. We piled into the car. Got caught in traffic. He was chattering all the way. I didn't really notice when he went silent, but it couldn't have been more than two or three blocks before I pulled into the parking lot of the store. I got a great spot, right next to the door, which was very fortunate since it was pouring rain.

When I turned off the car and looked back to check on GrandBoy, I found him sound asleep. Snoring, even. I tried to rouse him, but he would have none of it. Let sleeping toddlers lie, indeed. I waited for about ten minutes, then, to heck with it, and drove back home. Ah, well. Not this year.

However, lest you think he didn't provide Christmas gifts for his parents, let me relieve you of that notion. He laughed and ran around and danced and jumped and brought energetic delight daily. He was quick with hugs, kisses, and "I love you so much!" throughout. He helped make Christmas cookies, which we all ate. He added his creative touch to a card I made for his dad.

In the end, the greatest gift he gave to his mama and daddy was just being Liam. Perfect!

And The Big News Today Is . . .

It's a girl! 
GrandBoy will be the best big brother for his little sister. We can't wait to meet her in May!

Toddler Christmas Shopping

It's a crazy plan. Yup, I know that from the start. But here's what I want to try. I want to take almost-3-yr-old GrandBoy to buy Christmas presents for his mama and daddy. Gifts of his own choosing. With a fairly small dollar limit. And without buying anything for himself. Yeah. I'm looking for a Christmas miracle.

The thing is, I think he's old enough to understand the concept of giving. Joyfully. I want him to experience the fun of searching out and buying something special for the people he loves most in the world. Some little something that will make them smile, maybe a little keepsake. But I really want the gifts to be things that he has chosen. OK, maybe I can give a little guidance, but really, I don't want to do the selecting.

Is this impossible?

I'm fully confident that GrandBoy can do this. I think he will get in the spirit of the season and find some fun, perfect gifts for his mama and daddy. Gifts that he thinks are right for them. Still, it might take a little patience and guidance to toddler-shop successfully. 

Where can I take him to do his Christmas shopping? It has to be somewhere that doesn't have toys and stuff that will distract him to the point of just wanting 'prises for himself. So, Target's out (he knows where the toys are).

I am open to suggestions. Anyone shopped with an almost-3-year-old and successfully passed along the fun of buying for others, while avoiding a tearful meltdown when he realizes he's not shopping for himself? Can it be done? Any timely tips?

Visions of Storybooks Dancing in our Heads

I love a good Christmas book, especially the kid-variety. Some I grew up with. Some came into my life when my daughter was small. And I'm always on the lookout for something that catches my eye and my heart. I wrote something similar a couple of years ago, but that was before GrandBoy enjoyed more than just the taste of a good board book. Here are a few that he's ready to enjoy, I think:

The Little Golden Books 1940s/50s version of The Night Before Christmas. This is one of the very first books I remember as a little girl, and I still get that little girl feeling when I look at the illustrations.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas Well, the Dr. Seuss rhymes get me every time. And it's different - and a different experience - from the cartoon version (and certainly different from the Ron Howard version). Never gets old.


Father Christmas Letters by JRR Tolkien.What an exquisite gift Tolkien gave his children by writing these intricate letters from "Father Christmas." Funny, but Santa wrote just like this when replying to my daughter's Christmas Eve letters. Hmmm.

Peter Spier's Christmas. No words, just lots and lots of detailed pictures, so you can spend as much or as little time as you want talking about it with a child cuddled next to you. Great memories from when Kate was little.

It occurs to me that I don't have any real memories of Baby Jesus storybooks. Perhaps it was because there were so many manger images in our children's Bibles and at Sunday School that a storybook wasn't necessary. Anyway, I'm happy to recant that false memory if something comes to mind.

This is by no means a complete list of my children's Christmas favorites, but they are the ones that first fly into my head when I think of cherished storybooks.

What am I missing? 

Adding to Our Thanksgiving Blessings

GrandBoy is to be a big brother! The news is out that I'll get to spoil two grandchildren, come May. Happy Thanksgiving to all!

Sticky Situation

Last weekend, Grandboy and I took a road trip to the mountains of North Carolina for our annual parish retreat at Kanuga. His dad had to work and his mama was under the weather, so we loaded up the minivan and headed for the hills - just the two of us. I was somewhat trepidatious. I'd had him all to myself several times for long lengths of time but always at his own house. I wasn't sure how he'd take being in a different place with no parental units nearby.

No problems. First of all, several of his little friends were in the cabin next to ours. Second, he had full run of the place - his first taste of independence. And third, well, he's just a roll-with-it kind of kid.

There was lots to do - playgrounds and dances and hills to roll down and places to hide. But by far the favorite activity was, er, "sticking." Sticking is finding endless things to do with short or long, big or tiny tree branches that have fallen to the ground. (Yeah, I just made up the activity called "sticking.")

While glow sticks and balsa airplanes were fun for a while, the brown, wooden limbs provided free by Mother Nature were far and away the favorite amusement-provider of the weekend. I shouldn't be surprised. It's the same whenever we're in his own yard or at the park.

Oh, the versatility of the simple stick. We stabbed leaves and lily pads, batted pine cones and rocks, smacked trees, water, logs, and bushes, and made secret markings on the ground. Grandboy was the Stick-finder in Chief, providing himself and little me with suitable stickification along the way. He often traded out one stick for another. Sometimes they were simple and bare; sometimes they had lots of offshoots and clumps of leaves or pine needles.

The fact is that we found endless things to do with these free things found on the ground. I can't believe Mattel or Hasbro (or Apple) haven't found a way to create a plastic or electronic stick and charge us big-time for 'em. Wouldn't put it past 'em. But we'll have the last laugh. Just as long as there are trees shedding their branches and children who have a bazillion ways to use them.

Try to remember that whenever you are tempted to spend a lot of money for battery-powered Christmas and birthday gifts. Perhaps a little stick-hunting expedition will be much more appreciated.

21st Century Toddler Travel, Part II

As promised, I will now reveal the Number One toddler travel strategy for parents facing an airplane journey with a little tyke. Seems it's all about unwrapping small surprises. The sheer thrill of a wrapped 'prize begging to be torn into is just too, too exciting for a little one. So much so, that just the thought of impending unwrappiness is enough  to keep a kid on his best behavior.

Mom and Dad brought along a bag o' tricks (mentioned in my previous post) which included lots of small toys, crayons, and the like individually wrapped in cute wrapping paper. Daughter reports that GrandBoy didn't care nearly as much about what was inside the wrapping as he did about actually tearing off the paper. Ain't that always the way? So, hit the dollar store or the $1 bin at Target for the surprises. Spend your effort wrapping your finds.

Another popular activity was iPad games. GrandBoy has his favorites, so he knew what to do. And any time Mom lets him play around with her iPad is pretty special. Enough to keep him occupied for a while. Until it was time to open another little giftie. Of course, at the end of Liam's first plane ride was the promise of Disneyland and a big hug from Mickey Mouse. Yeah, the trip had a lot going for it.

The impending journey caused a lot of pre-journey stress, but, fortunately, GrandBoy's airplane behavior proved not to be a problem. Whew! In fact, he enjoyed the plane ride. He didn't give any trouble about staying in his seat with his seat belt on. (I'm sure it helped that his mom and dad were strapped in on either side of him.) And he slept most of the way back to Atlanta, even though the parental units were armed with more little wrapped packages. I'm sure it made for a pleasant journey for all contained within the plane.

Now, I don't know whether this works for every child, but it worked for Liam. Who knows if the same tricks will apply next time? We shall see. At least in the end he got a hug from Mickey.

21st Century Toddler Travel

Toddler vs 4 1/2-hour cross-country airplane trip. The tension has been building for a couple of months. Who would win? The 2 1/2 yr. old or the other passengers on the plane? This would call for intense training and preparation.

Assurance and reassurance. GrandBoy needed help understanding the concept of flying in an airplane. He's been a plane-spotter since he was a baby and knew that we're down here on the ground and airplanes are way up in the air. Very cool. Until it dawns on him that when he's in a plane, he'll be way up in the air, too. Not so cool. So he's had a love/hate relationship with the notion of flying. Repeated assurances that he'll be sitting between Mommy and Daddy the whole way helped a little. Assurances that the airplane will be taking him to see Mickey Mouse worked a lot better. By the time we got to the airport and he got to see the airplanes, he was ready to go. Sitting between Mommy and Daddy. Going to see Mickey Mouse. Assurance. Reassurance.

Toddler luggage. The latest thing is a clever little hard-sided bag called Trunki. Pack it, pull it, ride it. And it fits under the seat and in the overhead compartment. GrandBoy's looks like a tiger. It holds all of his clothes for an 8-day trip, and it is very cool. (Almost-three-yr-olds like cool stuff.) Also, he has his familiar little backpack, stuffed with familiar objects like his Curious George. Trunki + backpack = "I own this trip!" 

Bag o' tricks. Hm. How to keep an active toddler occupied in finite space for 4 1/2 hours? What about raiding the dollar stores and shelves for puzzles, play-dough, markers/crayons, games, and other time-honored diversions and gift-wrapping each little item? The plan is to dole out the goodies - and, frankly, use them as bribes - when GrandBoy gets antsy. He really likes " 'prises," though he's never been tested for this length of time. Also, tucked away in the goody bag - treats like gummy bears and goldfish. Obviously, mom and dad are not counting on this little live-wire to nap.

OK. So this was the plan put into place for yesterday's trip from Atlanta to Los Angeles. Navy SEALS could not have implemented the program any better than GrandBoy's parents. So, who won, Toddler or Passengers? I have it on the best authority that everyone was a winner and that GrandBoy was a champ. Out of all the strategies, what worked best? I'll find out and let you know.

Funny thing about toddlers. They are portable. Sort of. With a lot of strategic planning.

Homemade Squishiness

One of our more popular endeavors last week was the creation of "gak." I got the recipe from Pinterest. It was so easy - a couple of bottles of Elmer's glue, a little water, a little Borax, and some food coloring - and provided lots of squishy fun.

The texture is smooth and cold. It's shiny but not slimy, though if you leave it lying around, it tends to expand and grow, like something out of a bad 1950's horror film. But it's easy to pick up in one big lump - like a huge pile of Silly Putty.

Liam's favorite thing to do with it is to plant both feet firmly in the middle of the goo, then look at his footprints. The prints don't stick around very long, as the gak reforms fairly quickly. We also had fun with gak racing. We each hold up a string of the goop and see which thread hit the table first.

Store it in a plastic bag and it should keep forever. Future generations will marvel at the stuff.

Liam's Magic Beans

Magic in the sense that they were just regular beans from a regular seed-packet that are now growing into something edible, thanks to a little tender loving care from a GrandBoy and GrandMary.

First, we soaked some of the beans in a cup of water. Some of the beans, we scattered on a wet paper towel, then covered with another wet paper towel. We waited a few hours until the beans got wrinkly. Some of them split open. A couple even started to sprout.

Then we planted the beans in clear cups of potting soil. The clear cups let us watch the roots sprout and take hold.

There was no small amount of drama when we didn't see spouts after the first couple of days. With the fresh soil, heat, humidity, and rainfall, we were expecting to see something pop up overnight. Had we planted too many beans in one cup? I lost count of how many Liam pushed down into the dirt.

But hooray! On the fourth day the first bit of green poked through the soil. And we could see the thin white lengths of roots taking hold in each of the cups. I will admit to some over-enthusiastic watering sessions, but give a 2-year-old a watering can, and, well, you do lose control over proper hydration.

By day six, the plants were going great guns. They seemed to grow a 1/2-inch every hour. Yeah!

It was easy to see the plants were outgrowing their small, clear cups, and it was time to transplant the tender shoots to larger pots. So we emptied our little cups into terracotta planters, where their roots could spread and the beans could grow properly. We also planted the bean seeds that hadn't sprouted. Hey, you never know.

So now we wait. Wait for the flower and the fruit. We'll keep you posted on the progress. Liam takes great pride in his beans. Looks like he has his father's green thumb.

Magic doesn't have to mean supernatural. Most often, I find, magic is in the common and ordinary. Like a few dry beans that turn into green plants and more magic beans. What a wonder!

So Many Ideas, So Little Time

I haven't seen GrandBoy in almost three months, so I'll be traveling down to Atlanta in ten days to spend a week reconnecting. Since I last saw him, I've added Pinterest to my social media skills and have a board just for GrandMary Goodies. This is where I stick all the fabulous, fun, creative ideas other folks have dreamed up that I think Liam would enjoy.  The problem is, there are way more pins on the GrandMary Goodies board that I will ever be able to put to use.

At the risk of over-planning, over-thinking, and over-scheduling ways for us to spend our play time, I'm culling through my board pins to choose just a handful of things that will make us giggle, give us some exercise, get our hands dirty, or all of the above. So, let's see. Where to start?

Do we cook up slime, galaxy playdough, or a variety of recipes for disaster? I see some real possibilities there. Bet I could find lots of fun stuff in this free, downloadable Summer Fun book, with activities suitable for toddlers. But are the activities suitable for GrandMarys?

I'm not afraid of a little (or a lot) of water, and neither is GrandBoy, so perhaps we move the fun outside. Maybe rig up this water spray made out of a 2-litre plastic bottle. Or stock up on balloons for a little water balloon action. We both love-love-love sidewalk chalk, so maybe one or two games using the chalk will be fun. Or a messy outdoor art project. Note to self: use the water spray to clean up after the messy art project.

Of course, there are always old fashioned activities, like catching lightning bugs, collecting rocks/leaves/sticks on a nature walk, throwing/catching/chasing a ball around the yard, and eating popsicles on the front steps. We'll need time to dance around a while and whizz cars and trucks down the hallway. Whatever we do must revolve around mealtimes and naptimes - for both of us.

Whatever happens, we'll have fun. Whether we make things that fizz and glow, or spray water, or spin around, we'll have fun. And we'll really deserve our meals and naps after all that!

Staying Cool, Kid-Style

Children can find plenty of ways to stay cool in the summertime heat if adults will just get out of their way. All that’s needed is a water source, something cold to drink, and maybe knowing where your mama keeps her change purse.

As hard as it is for me to admit, I had an air-conditionless existence until I was maybe 6 or 7 years old. That’s right. When I was very young, a Southern summer childhood was at the mercy of an electric fan and the sheer benevolence of an adult willing to plug the thing in, turn it on, and let it blow on you. Yeah, a whole line of iffy situations. Seems we got the use of the fan at naptime, after we had a bellyful of Campbell’s vegetable soup, a tomato sandwich, and Hi-C orange drink, just as added nap-insurance. Beyond that, a little kid had to fight for fan frontage time.

Fortunately, mamas liked their kids to play outside - whatever the temperature - so if we got permission (and sometimes if we didn’t), we could turn on the outdoor spigot and play in the hose. As long as you didn’t get knocked in the teeth with the metal nozzle or get water sprayed straight up your nose, a good time could be had by all. Holding the hose straight up made an instant shower. Coiling it up, then then letting it go, caused all sorts of unpredictable sprays, twists, and turns. Oooh, the water snake!

Eventually, we graduated to a super-deluxe backyard pool. By super-deluxe, I mean a sparkling aqua-colored plastic sheet draped over a 2-foot high white fence-type thing. The bottom had a diamond design of black, blue, and white. It took forever to fill  the thing up, but I’m telling you, nothing Esther Williams ever had was a fine as our beautiful blue pool. It seemed huge at the time; I’m sure it would be laughable now. But water and kids and sun can co-mingle for long time, and we were very happy little campers. I don’t remember Mother watching us – she was inside doing whatever mothers do. Yes. Pure child endangerment/neglect. Thank God.

Still, there’s more to staying cool than water-immersion. That’s where Kool-Aid and Fizzies came in. Seems like they were always in plentiful supply – a little goes a long way for a kid – so we’d sit in a swing or on the picnic table and have our treat. Anyway, those purple and orange Kool-Aid moustaches washed off after a few minutes in our sparkling backyard pool.

Sometimes, though, in late afternoon/early evening we’d hear that glorious sound – the bells or music of the Hunky Man (that’s what we called the truck that came around with popsicles, push-ups, and nutty-buddies). Chaos ensued, as some of us   waved him down, while others ran inside to plead for enough dimes to cover the charge for our confections. The perfect way for a kid to stay cool on a summer afternoon.

So think back on how you liked to cool off in the summer when you were little, and share that with the little ones in your life. Even if you have a real, in-the-ground Esther Williams swimming pool, break out the garden hose or sprinkler sometime. Just don’t let the nozzle hit you in the teeth. And remember to wash off your purple Kool-Aid moustache.

The Field Guide to Good Grandparenting

Everything I know about being a grandparent came from observing two of the best in their natural habitat. My mother and daddy loved being grandparents, to the point of barely acknowledging their own children once those children produced off-spring. They cooed and baby-talked and cuddled and kissed the wee ones, read to and over-fed the toddlers, and spoiled rotten the children/teens/young adults from there on out. 

I studied their grandparenting skills as one would study animals in the wild because the experience I had with my own grandparents was not at all what my daughter experienced with Mother and Daddy. I’m guessing it was a generational thing.

For whatever reason my grandparents weren’t very touchy-feely. I loved them, and they loved me (I assume), but I don’t remember spending much, if any, time alone with them. They lived elsewhere, and the rest of the family were always around. Some hugging, maybe a kiss on the cheek, a little small talk, then back to the business at hand – cooking, adult-talking, farm chores, whatever. We could tag along or not, but none of this centered on us.

My parents, however, had a completely different relationship with their grandchildren. We all lived within a half-hour’s driving distance and could foster up-close-and-personal relationships between grandkids and grandparents. Lots of visits. Lots of overnight visits, even when the kids were very small. Special events. Not-so-special events. Chill-out time. Always filled with many, many hugs, kisses, and cuddles. They knew their voices and temperaments. They were comfortable with each other.

I mean, just look at that picture. Grandpa reading to a lap-full of his little grandchildren. They're all settled in, paying attention, feeling the love.

Both Daddy and Mother pulled out all the love-stops where their grandchildren were concerned. And it didn't take a genius to figure out their grandparenting blueprint. It was all about always showing grandkids how much they were loved, paying attention to little things, and being generous with their hugs and time. (OK, and slipping the kids some spendable green stuff when they got older.) Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

That's pretty much all you need to know about how to be a grandparent. I know. Because I got to study two of the best for years.

Members of the Same Club

Want a sure-fire way to get GrandBoy up and dancing around the room? Find Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on-demand and wait for the Hot Dog song finale. Once Mickey and crew start flapping their arms and kicking their legs, it's hard for a little guy (or his GrandMary) to sit still. And, boy, does that Hot Diggity Dog song stick in your mind! That tune, plus Minnie's little prissy dance. So we sing and dance (more like Goofy than Minnie) and wear ourselves out trying to keep up with the Clubhouse gang.

Now, believe it or not, GrandBoy and GrandMary belong to the same club. Which club, you ask? Why, the Mickey Mouse Club, of course. It's just that the club is a little different from the one I joined as a child. First of all, they've invented color since the original Mouseketeers came on the scene in the 1950s. (OK, not color, but color TV.) And the clubhouse is way cooler now, thanks to computer animation and whiz-bang technology. I wish my living room would rotate out to reveal a great kitchen. Ah, well.

Also, they've ditched the Mouseketeers altogether. 'Nary a one in sight. There were a couple of iterations in the 70's and 90's - and, yes, I know that Justin Timberlake, Britney Spears, and Christina Whats-Her-Name were the most recent wearers of mouse-ears (did they wear ears?) - but none compared to Annette and crew. I'm thinking Disney felt the same, so gone are real live Mouseketeer kids. Mickey, Donald, Minnie, Daisy, Goofy, and Pluto run the show now.

But never mind. When GrandBoy calls out for Mouse, it's clear he's a card-carrying Mickey Mouse Club Member, just like I was. Am. So I happily join in the Hot Dog Song and dance. 

Still, I do miss the Mickey Mouse Club "alma mater" that ended the original show. So serious. Pledging our loyalty to the Mouse and each other. No wonder I'm still a member. Hot dog!

Down on the Farm

A trip to the family farm in Henrietta, Tennessee, last weekend gave GrandBoy his first taste of a real farm. It was cold and windy, so visions of young Liam running barefoot through green fields were quickly squashed, but he didn't seem to mind the weather.

In his bright yellow slicker, he got to see real cows and horses, get an up-close look at tractors old and new, experience the joys of tossing rocks in a puddle (endless fun, by the way), and experience a freedom to roam around wide-open spaces and explore things like haystacks and unfamiliar porch steps.

GrandBoy also got to test out his "mooing" skills with a herd of Black Angus cattle. He learned that, yes, cows actually do moo, as he engaged in human/bovine conversations and stare-downs with cows and their calves. Moooooooo!

He saw his first real red barn and scarecrow, which was guarding a newly-planted field. He learned how to shoot a water pistol and see the effect of strong wind blowing bubbles through a bubble wand (no human-blowing needed).

There was an endless supply of uncles willing to toss a ball or hoist him up to look over a fence. An equally endless supply of aunts (as well as his mama and GrandMary) kept a close eye and made sure he was warm, dry, fed, and hugged. In other words, he was joyfully spoiled.

So now the go-to guy for the correct tone of cow-mooing, best rocks for puddle-tossing, and most efficient way to run through a field is GrandBoy. In case you were wondering.

You Just Call Out My Name

"Gramee-ee!" Yes, finally. GrandBoy's calling for his GrandMary. He's got the "Grand" part down and just needs a little more work on the "Mary," but he's almost there. He used my name repeatedly when I was in Atlanta a couple of weeks ago. It does an old lady's heart good to hear a hearty little voice call from downstairs "Gramee-ee!"

Add to that his sweet little hugs that include patting me on the back and, well, the whole package is irresistible. That wonderful little 2-year-old package.

Sure, it's work trying to get to toddler to understand why sharing is good and throwing sand is bad. And goodness knows, trying to keep up with the little tyke is almost impossible. But getting to witness daily - make that hourly -  discoveries and milestones is worth all the exhaustion.

A hug. A few little pats on the back. A toddler kiss. And calling out my name - "Gramee-ee!" The daily delights of a grandmother.