Confusions of Grandeur: A Grandmother's Journal

Happy Second Birthday!

2012-02-21T00:00:00.002-05:00

Happy Birthday, dear Liam! You've brought your GrandMary enormous joy over the past two years. You're a jolly, active, loving, smart, inquisitive little boy, and I love you beyond all measure. I look forward to watching you grow and laugh and learn for years to come. Happy, Happy Birthday!

What a 2-Year-Old Doesn't Know

2012-02-13T21:10:00.001-05:00

Having just spent a week fully in charge of GrandBoy as his parents took a much needed vacation, I was constantly reminded of how much a 2-year-old knows. Things like complicated words and concepts, adult manipulation techniques, rapid escape maneuvers are easy breezy. But as smart as the little dickens is, I discovered a few things that a 2-year-old doesn't know, and I'm happy to share the knowledge.

A 2-year-old doesn't know that a GrandMary can't get up and down as quickly as a 2-year-old. There's just not as much juice in the joints and not built as close to the ground. This frustrates a 2-year-old. And a 60-year-old.
A 2-year-old doesn't know that his GrandMary lives in Spanish Harlem, a mere five stories above a busy street and the Metro North commuter train line. Noise does not phase her. All the whining and tantrum-tossing in the world is just so much white noise. This frustrates a 2-year-old. It does not frustrate a 60-year-old (who lives in Spanish Harlem).
A 2-year-old doesn't understand the difference between shampoo and real poo. A 2-year-old certainly knows about poo (and isn't afraid to let you know it). But the word "shampoo" is confusing to him, especially when GrandMary wants to put it on his head. All he hears is "poo." And not even a 2-year-old wants poo in his hair.

Other than that, a 2-year-old pretty much knows everything a 60-year-old knows. And until the shampoo situation sorts itself out, I'll just call it soap. Nobody wants poo in their hair.

Heartbreaker

2012-02-01T20:47:00.002-05:00

This picture of GrandBoy is tacked up next to my desk at work. It's a proof of one of his preschool pictures. Daughter told me they weren't expecting the photo, thinking school pictures had been taken mid-week, and GrandBoy is in preschool on Mondays and Fridays. But a photographer was there and a GrandBoy got to shine.

So here he is, crazy monkey hair going every which way, wearing his dinosaur shirt. I love the way his little mouth is drawn up, ready to explode with a belly-laugh. I love the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and the way he's tentatively holding the side of his seat.

Whenever I glance over at the picture, it makes me smile. But there's also something sweetly heartbreaking about the expression on his face. I just want to pick him up and give him a big hug. The picture makes me happy, but it also reminds me of how much I miss the little guy.

Silly GrandMary

2012-01-28T10:38:00.000-05:00

Just because it makes me smile. Just because I love the little dimple next to GrandBoy's mouth. Just because making silly faces is what GrandMarys do.

FutureHope

2012-01-22T22:02:00.003-05:00

I have great hope for the future. I have to. With a daughter and son-in-law and GrandBoy who will be living out their days long after I'm gone (God willing), how can the future be anything but hope-filled? Nieces and nephews, cousins and second cousins, and all their daughters and sons are growing and thriving, learning and working, all for better lives and a better world.

Yes, I know things seem mean, greedy, and soulless much of the time. Relentless news about wars and uprisings, elections and in-fighting, protests and unemployment have us screaming at each other rather than listening, finding solutions, and compromising. I understand why folks voice so much doubt about the future.

But we've heard it all before. Any student of history knows that people throughout the ages have thought the world is on the fast-track to Hell. It's nothing new. The only thing that is new is that despair and pessimism spews forth at the click of a keyboard or remote control. We're inundated with doom and gloom 24/7.

However, do not tell me there is no bright future in store for us, our children, grandchildren, and beyond. I will not hear of it.

Every generation does a lot of things right and a lot of things wrong. Every generation. It's no use pitting one against another. We're all in this together, across a continuum of time, relationship, and understanding. We can only do what every group of people has done since the dawn of time. Move things forward as best we can.

Perhaps we should think before we speak or type a snippy comment. Can we turn down the volume of hate? Stop siding with folks who only want to scream and stomp their feet, and start working toward listening and sorting things out together? None of us has the whole picture. None of us has all the answers.

The future is too important. It must be full of hope and promise. Just look at all these sweet new children. The future is gloriously brilliant. Now, live like it!

Why Santa Needs Elves

2011-12-26T00:50:00.002-05:00

Because some - and often, most - assembly is required. I guess some elves are toy-makers, who craft their wares in 14,000 pieces that must be put together with allen wrenches (yuck!) and 35,002 screws, and some elves are the putter-togetherers, who have to take those 14,000 bits and assemble them into something recognizable that a kid would want to play with.

How did I come to this realization? Well, I watched as a couple of earthly elves fashioned an incredible train table out of a gazillion pieces and a 250-page instruction booklet. OK. I exaggerate, but not by much. Witness the process and results:

Elves, disguised as parents, employ their best carpentry skills in the race to have the train table ready by Christmas morn.

Hm. Does this thing look like the picture?

I need 2 E tracks and a B. Or is it 2 B tracks and an E?

Pay-off for the 2-hour assembly process: one thrilled little feller!

Here's hoping your Christmas involved both toy-makers and assemblers. Merry Christmas to all!

World's Rarest Christmas Ornaments

2011-12-22T19:54:00.001-05:00

At the risk of having hordes of people turn up outside our door hoping to delight in these wonderful objects, I must announce that we are in possession of the world's rarest hand-made Christmas ornaments. Yes, it's true. And when you consider the cost of the care and feeding of the baubles' creator, well, they're probably the most expensive ornaments in the world, too.

Each and every ornament is hand-made (and I do mean, hand-made) by the one and only . . . GrandBoy. He has spent hours of precious pre-school time, under the careful guidance of his patient teachers, crafting an assortment of keepsake decorations that Hallmark could only hope to achieve. It has taken the laser-like concentration that only a 20-month-old can summon up to turn out his one-of-a-kind angel, stocking, wreath, tree, and reindeer.

No need for diamonds, gold, silver, or delicate blown glass. No. What's needed is an assortment of paper plates, construction paper, glue, glitter, finger paint, and, of course, little fingers. I never imagined hand-prints could be so versatile - everything from reindeer antlers to holly leaves.

Sorry, folks. He only made one of each. Rare, indeed. Priceless. Don't even bother calling us, Sotheby's. These will never hit the auction block.

We might consider tours next year. But they're all ours this Christmas.

Spoiled

2011-12-11T17:09:00.001-05:00

Nobody likes a spoiled brat. Children should not get every toy and whimsy they fancy. I think we're all agreed on that. So for a grandparent it takes great restraint always, but especially at this time of year, to keep from picking up everything little (and big) that might bring even a moment's delight to the little tykes.

The truth is that if GrandBoy didn't get any new toys for the next two years, he'd have enough stuff to play with all the live-long day. But it's taking all of our willpower - and by "our" I'm including his mama and daddy - to resist picking up a few more little Thomas the Tank Engine train cars at the store or ordering everything that hums, honks, dings, and whistles online. The urge is overpowering. "Oh, he would love this!" and "I'd love to see his face when he opens that!" Is there a 12-step program for this?

The good news is that I haven't given in to these urges to purchase everything in sight for GrandBoy. Much. I chose one item off the gift wish list, found the absolute most perfect winter hat for him at the Grand Central Holiday Fair, and bought him a couple of books. Well, more than a couple of books; the stack seems to grow daily. (But books aren't toys, are they? Can you spoil a child with too many books? Help me out here, grandparents.)

Oh, yeah. And a friend was going to Hess to pick up a truck for her grandchildren. Did I want one for Liam? Of course, I did. I mean, the annual Hess truck is iconic, right? He needs one of those. Really. It lights up and makes noise and everything. Just made for my GrandBoy. So add that to the list.

I'm beginning to think that finding delightful things for our grandchildren has more to do with spoiling us than them. Is it completely selfish to want to see that first little flicker of surprise, then the smiles, and the play that follows when a gift is well-received? It's not the thing itself, it's the reaction and the way it's treated and used, that we wait for. Selfishly. OK. Maybe it is a little selfish. Maybe we're the spoiled brats, not the kids.

In the spirit of the season - and with every ounce of self-control that I can muster (thank goodness for limited discretionary spending) - I'm trying my best not to become a spoiled GrandMaryBrat. But that goal may be hard to achieve, since I do not need a reaction to a gift to spoil me. Every smile, string of jibber-jabber, plane-spotting, YoGabbaGabba dance, sleepy bed-head hug from GrandBoy spoils me beyond imagination. Perhaps I should just sit back and enjoy being spoiled for a while.

And maybe I'll save the Hess truck for GrandBoy's birthday.

Travelin' Man

2011-11-27T18:51:00.002-05:00

GrandBoy loves anything that gets you from point A to point B. Whatever the mode of transportation, he is all over it. I've already mentioned his penchant for cars, but this passion extends to boats, airplanes, and - maybe most of all - choo-choo trains.

Over Thanksgiving, we spent a lot of time in two places: Ashford Park in Atlanta, by good fortune located below the flight path of planes flying in and out of Peachtree Dekalb Airport and right next to railroad tracks serving both MARTA and regular freight trains; and the Island of Sodor, home of Thomas the Tank Engine and his friends. Grandboy couldn't have been happier.

At the park he can hear a plane approaching long before those of us with older ears. He starts pointing to the sky and exclaiming, "Whoa!" Whoa-whoa-whoa! And sure enough, a couple of minutes later, an airplane crosses overhead. He's always pleased that he's able to locate it in the sky when it finally comes into sight.

Anything having to do with trains warrants the call-out, "Choo-choo!" He never tires of watching the freight trains pass by, however many cars are attached or however long it takes for the caboose to show up. Oddly enough, he can tell the difference between the excitement of a solid old freight train and the sleeker MARTA trains. MARTA doesn't get much of a reaction from GrandBoy.

The other choo-choo eliciting interest is Thomas. Thank goodness for Roku and instant Netflix, which let us watch episodes of the little Sodor train engine at will and kept GrandBoy entertained during the holiday hub-bub. Now, you may not believe this, but his mother and I heard him clearly say, "I want to watch Thomas," yesterday afternoon. We looked at each other - Did you hear what I heard? So I'm willing to testify that GrandBoy's first complete sentence was about the choo-choo Thomas.

Me thinks it will be a transportation-themed Christmas this year for GrandBoy. Now, let's all sing along:

They're two, they're four,
They're six, they're eight.
Shunting trucks and hauling freight.
Red and green and brown and blue
They're the really useful crew . . .

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-31T19:06:00.000-04:00

GrandBoy seems happier as a FDNY fireman than he did last year as a monkey. Happy Halloween, everyone!

A Duck, a Cow, a Rembrandt

2011-10-29T09:48:00.000-04:00

The time has come to clear the refrigerator door and stock up on magnets. I got my first GrandBoy artwork in the mail yesterday. From personal, parental experience I know that this is just the beginning of wonderful little creative endeavors too precious to throw away.

Several boxes of his mama's crayon, fingerpaint, potato print, and glitter+glue creations are taking up space in the family's basement. Yes, I tossed out a lot over the years, but some are just too precious to consign to the trash heap of history. I'm especially touched by anything with her early attempts at writing her name. Awwww. How can I throw those away?

Now it's time to employ my art curator skills again, this time for the Grand. So this first precious duck-cow picture, made with his own sweet little handprints, has pride of place - center of the fridge door. Fortunately, I have a full-size refridgerator.

Drivin' or Cryin'

2011-10-06T19:45:00.000-04:00

GrandBoy wants to drive. Unfortunately, he's only 19 months old.

This is frustrating for him - frustrating to the point of tears and toddler-fits sometimes. His vocabulary is coming along, but he hasn't mastered the word for driving. Or cars. Or trucks. Or any vehicle that catches his eye. All of those things are lumped under one double-barrelled word: Doo-doose.

Doo-doose. Not sure of the spelling, but we all know what it means when he sees a big truck on the freeway or a tractor in a field. Doo-doose! And we really know what it means when we're trying to get him into or out of a car, or when he's upstairs pointing at the door leading to the garage, and he spits out: Doo-doose!

Now, doo-doose - er, driving - to Liam mostly means sitting in the driver's seat moving the steering wheel back and forth, or trying to push keys into the ignition, or pulling the visors and lighted mirrors up and down, pushing every single button on the dashboard, opening and closing each storage compartment. Yet, he never wants to pass up an opportunity to have full run of the front seat of a car. Perhaps it's because he's always tied down in his car seat well away from the front.

A few weeks ago we were at my nephew's wedding at a Florida resort, and poor GrandBoy lost it every time he saw a golf cart. And there were lots of golf carts. Last weekend we went apple-picking, and while he enjoyed that adventure, GrandBoy was completely beside himself when he got to sit in the driver's seat of a big blue tractor.

We figure he's got a bright future as a race-car driver. Or a trucker. Or a farmer. Long may he doo-doose!

The Red Balloon

2011-09-25T21:56:00.003-04:00

GrandBoy loves balloons. No. "Love" is the wrong word. GrandBoy covets balloons. Balloons in grocery stores or restaurants or outside a place of business or in Goodnight, Moon. He wants every balloon he sees. Now, as his mama points out, once he gets a balloon, there's not much he can do with it, at least not at 19 months old. But if there's a balloon in sight, he wants it to be his.

Yesterday after an active morning in Atlanta's Winn Park - where we repeatedly tested all five slides (except for the high twisty one), GrandBoy and GrandMary dropped into our local Chick-Fil-A for a well-deserved lunch. The minute we opened the doors, I knew we were in trouble. Large shiny mylar balloons decorated the counter area, and GrandBoy's eye honed right in on 'em.

"Baaa-oooon! Baaaaa-ooon!"

Oh. Dear. I placed our order through much pointing and "baaa-ooon"-ing. As we entered the dining area, I noticed lots of red and white balloons dotting the tables and booths filled with children. Fortunately, this story has a happy ending. No sooner had we settled into our booth than a kind employee came by with a fistful of balloons. Yea! We chose a red one. I tied it to GrandBoy's buttonhole so that it wouldn't fly away.

Like his mother, I figured he just wanted to possess it and would soon let it hover over his head while he ate. But low and behold!, after spending a couple of minutes bopping it around, he grabbed it with both hands and put his face right up to it. He turned left and right, up and down, and his perplexed look changed to a little half-grin. He was looking at the world through a red balloon.

Seeing him with the balloon reminded me of that wonderful film The Red Balloon, which I dearly loved as a child and that his mama loved when she was little. It's still a favorite of mine. GrandBoy's too young for the post-war Paris fable of a little boy and his wonderfully faithful red balloon, but I hope when he's older he'll find a place in his heart for it. It is the ultimate boy-and-his-balloon story.

GrandBoy's red balloon lost its oomph by late evening, and interest in it was lost, as well. Still, maybe some day he'll find more uses for his balloons.

Like having a hundred of them carry him right over Paris!

Little Golden Memories

2011-08-23T20:38:00.002-04:00

When I was Grandboy's age (way back when entertainment meant blocks, Easter egg hunts, and Howdy Doody - stop yawning!), the kiddie reading material of choice in our house was a stack of favorite Little Golden Books. They were inexpensive, colorful, and the perfect size for little hands. I was too young to read, of course, but my daddy loved reading those books to us, and we loved listening. It wasn't just the stories that made an impact; it was the illustrations, as well.

I don't remember all the stories, but there are four stand-outs that stick with me all these years later.

The first was officially called The Five Little Firemen, but we called it The Five Little Firemen and the Jolly Fat Cook. I always associate this story with my brother David, for some reason. I think he particularly liked this story of the brave little firemen rescuing the cook when the house caught fire. And all cooks from that time forward were referred to as "jolly fat cooks" in our family.

Next on our Little Golden Books hit parade is Noises and Mr. Flibberty Jib. Poor Mr. Flibberty Jib. He had all sorts of noises pounding through his head, rumbles and rattles and squeaks. Yes, the sounds of the modern world were driving him crazy. He tried everything to get rid of his noise-headaches. Spoiler alert: the cure was roast beef. Not a day goes by that I don't think about the rumbles in my head. And crave roast beef to cure 'em.

Little Golden Books introduced me to Clement Moore's The Night Before Christmas. The illustrations in the original Golden Books version are what dance in my head whenever I read or hear the poem to this day. Santa Claus to me is the Little Golden Books Santa. Whenever I see the pictures, I get the feeling I'm a very tiny child.

The last is more memorable for one of its illustrations. The Little Golden Books version of Little Red Riding Hood had a full page picture - full page! - of the big bad wolf in grandmother's bed and night-cap. His eyes were squinched up and his big nose was tucked under the coverlet. And you just knew he'd done something awful. While Little Me loved the story, Daddy would have to quickly turn over the wolf page because it was too, too scary. {shiver} Oooh. the big bad wolf!

It's funny that these little books, with their wonderful stories and memorable illustrations, have stuck with me throughout my life. I love children's books - the big glossy kind with fabulous pictures, all very clever and colorful. But those dime store-bought Little Golden Books still live in this little girl's heart.

But, please, turn past that wolf-in-grandma's-bed page quickly!

Celebrating 18 months!

2011-08-21T16:30:00.000-04:00

How fast they grow! Happy 18-month birthday, GrandBoy!

The Grand Role

2011-07-30T12:11:00.000-04:00

What is the role of a grandparent? I suspect it depends on whether you're the grandparent, the parent, or the grandchild. One of the great things about being a grandparent is that you carry with you all three perspectives, since you're the only one of the three to have experienced each life-stage. But sometimes it's hard to reel in all the years to see through the eyes of the child or parent you were.

From my lofty GrandMary perch and taking into account little Mary and mama Mary, here are my top three roles of a grandparent:

Unconditional love. A grandparent is free to just love away on the grandbabies, usually without the angst of setting the rules, saving for college, or getting them dressed for school every day. (I know some grands do have to worry about these things.) Unconditional love doesn't mean "no limits" and letting the little darlings get away with murder. Abide by the rules of the parents and of society, and the rest is just lots of fresh cream on strawberries. Open heart and open arms - that's a grandparent's primary role.

Fun-loving storyteller. A grandparent is a connector from the present to the past. You can tell the stories about family, friends, and events that help anchor a child's roots. You can give grandchildren a glimpse of what their parents were like as children (so start storing up those funny, embarrassing tales). You know songs, rhymes, tall-tales that only someone in your generation would know, so share them. But remember that "fun-loving" is the modifier here. Otherwise, you'll become a raging bore. You have to be the one with a ready laugh, a conspiratorial wink, and the ability to pull a funny face throughout everything.
Parental support. A grandparent is not the grandchild's parent. The parents make the rules, and your role is wholehearted support, at least when engaging with the grandchildren. If you feel the need to confront parents about something you disagree with, well that's up to you. It might work, it might not. But never, never undermine the parent in front of their children or intentionally break their rules.

I do realize that many grandparents are the primary caregivers for their grandchildren. But I believe that even with increased authority that love, fun, storytelling, and support provide the foundation of the "grand" role.

What do you think are the top three roles of a grandparent?

The Frustrations of a Bilingual Toddler

2011-07-24T15:51:00.001-04:00

Toddler tantrums are legendary, and sometimes all you can do is deep-breathing exercises or plug your ears with your iPod. But look at it from a toddler-view. It must be incredibly frustrating to understand two languages (grown up English and toddler-speak) but only be able to communicate in one (toddler-speak).

I do think they get - or almost get - whatever's being said to them, and I think they understand what you need or expect to hear in return. Problem is, their language skills haven't caught up to their understanding.

So when you ask a question, a toddler knows what answer to give. It just comes out in a Tarzan-like grunt or a string of gibberish. They try to help us along by pointing or gesturing, but we don't speak their language. As adults, we have to make logical (or sometimes, wild) guesses as to what our sweet toddlers are trying to say. Frustration all around and a perfect storm for impending tantrums - and not just on the part of the toddler.

Yes, what we've got here, in the words of Strother Martin in Cool Hand Luke, is a failure to communicate.

Of course, lack of ability to form clear words isn't the only frustration a tiny kid faces. Emerging, basic fine motor skills and coordination lets That fork or spoon doesn't quiet behave they way it should and deliver food into the mouth, for example. Darn! Yeah, I think I'd throw a tantrum or two (and I'm sure I did).

Things will get better. The pointing grunts will lead to "milk, please" or "I'm hot." Blocks will stack and forks will get food right into the mouth. But until then, sigh, we'll all just have to communicate the best way we can.

I'm just waiting to hear those three magical syllables: GrandMary.

Hooray for Daddies!

2011-06-19T23:36:00.001-04:00

What better way to celebrate Father's Day than a baseball game? GrandBoy took in his first big league game today at Turner Field in Atlanta, where the Atlanta Braves beat the Texas Rangers. Yahoo! His mama, Grandpa George, and Grandma Lois tagged along with the father-son duo.

This GrandMary's thankful that GrandBoy has such a great daddy. And like all the generations of mamas supporting him, he has generations of good daddies doing the same. Daddies who have worked hard and loved their families. Daddies who have taught important life lessons, as well as the not-so-important but fun lessons.

Thank you to the long family line of good men who have shown the true meaning of fatherhood. What a precious gift!

Looks Like Toddler Spirit

2011-06-15T15:33:00.003-04:00

Parents are never quite prepared for the transition from baby to toddler. Even a fast crawler can't hold a candle to a toddler determined to get from point A to point B. I've never quite understood how those tiny folks with newly-acquired (albeit shaky) balance can outrun full-grown marathon-running adults, but those little stinkers will leave the grown-ups in the dust every time.

Yes, they fall and trip and stumble once in a while, but their ability to maneuver around furniture, corners, up/down stairs, and bigger, more powerful humans is a wonder to behold. Which is amazing, since the average toddler looks a little lead-footed, walking with the un-syncopated rhythm of Frankenstein's monster.

But, beware!

That off-balance movement is a ruse. A cover-up. A little toddler trick. Those sly little devils walk unsteadily to lull you into a false sense of security. First chance they get, it's off to the races. Just try to catch them. This GrandMary's convinced that toddlers are two parts jack rabbit, one part Weeble.

So, to all toddler-chasing parents (and grandparents, babysitters, protectors of public safety) out there, good luck. There's no training for the toddler race. The little tykes have found their legs, and they mean to use them. All the time. Usually when you're the most tired and/or not paying attention.

But look on the bright side. Just think of the gym fees you'll save!

The Joys of Summer Reading

2011-06-05T13:52:00.002-04:00

One of my great growing up memories is throwing myself headlong into any summer reading program that came along. I usually had at least two going during the hot days of June, July, and August - one from the local public library and one from my church library. These programs weren't the mandatory summer reading lists required these days by every grade from kindergarten through high school. Nope. These were completely optional.

I loved having a new crisp, clean form with sections for Fiction, Biographies, Non-Fiction, and whatever categories some dear librarian wanted to toss my way. Oooh, the feeling of getting to carefully write in a finished book and its author - well, it gives me a thrill even today. Yes. I am a book-nerd, and obviously always have been.

Then when Daughter was 4 or 5 years old, we'd grab our library cards and participate in whatever summer programs the establishment had to offer. It was so much fun introducing her to joy of selecting her own books and finding a quiet time amidst summer activities to crack open a whole new world. It was a great daily habit that I hope she loved as much as I did.

Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House books, Sydney Taylor's All of a Kind Family, and Edward Eager's Half Magic were some of our favorites. Yes, I may have had a hand in guiding her to the Ingalls family, but the others she found on her own. It was wonderful learning about Taylor's Lower East Side Jewish family or figuring out the right way to make a half-magic wish. Great stuff after a day's work and heat!

GrandBoy's still on board books so he's a little young for a library summer reading program. But just think how much fun it will be to let him choose a book - at a library, bookstore, Kindle or tablet store, or whatever new book delivery option will be available in 2-3 years - and share it with him! What new worlds and people will we meet?

Do you have a favorite summertime reading memory?

Just Don't Call Me Granny

2011-05-14T22:54:00.000-04:00

The New York Times had an article the other day about trends in grandparent names. Of course there was a faint "Baby Boomers don't want to get old" theme running through it, though I know many a Greatest Generation/Silent Generation woman who has opted for Nana or Gigi or Mimi, not Granny or MeeMaw. I posted about my own choice of grandparent name before Liam was born and why GrandMary was chosen.

Seems the likes of Blythe Danner and Goldie Hawn - neither of whom are Baby Boomers, by the way - are opting for monikers like Lalo and GlamMa (ha!) rather than Grandma or Grandmother. In short, we love the experience, just not the cultural baggage of the title. Or so the article says. I'm not sure I agree, though I can't think of any grandmothers in my age group that go by any of the more old fashioned terms.

The only name I never considered for myself was Granny. I mean, that one really does sound old. Yet, that was what my own mother chose for her grandmother name. My own grandmothers were called "Mama" (I think we called her that because that's what our mothers called her) and "Grandmother." Neither of those would've worked for me, either.

Of course, lots of times the grandchildren work out a name (as in the case of Danner's Lalo), and that's what sticks. It'll be interesting to see how GrandBoy handles the pronunciation of GrandMary. He's in control at this point. It may come out "Ginga" or "Gamry." We'll just have to wait and see.

So. Any Grannies left out there? Or are we headed to Lalo-land?

To GrandBoy on Mother's Day

2011-05-08T10:24:00.000-04:00

Darling Boy,

Today is Mother's Day. It's your second chance to celebrate that wonderful woman you call (or are trying as hard as a 1-yr-old can to call) "Mama." She is the one who made me a mother. She loves you beyond all reason, as I love her.

You come from a long line of strong, loving mamas. You should feel their love coming down to you through the generations. You don't just have one mama's love in you, but centuries of love from all the mothers, grandmothers, and on back through all the "greats" of the Gresham/Bartow/Frazier/Brennan and Flores/Leyva/Richeson clans.

All that strength and love, mixed with the same strength and love from all the daddies, helps make you the wonderful little feller you are. You are one lucky little guy!

So spend the day hugging and kissing your mama. Nap when you sense she needs a break. Let her know how very special she is and how glad you are that you won the mother-lottery.

I love you more than words can tell. You are the baby of my baby. Give her a hug and kiss for me. Happy Mother's Day, Liam!

Love,
GrandMary

A Book-Lovin' GrandMary's Dream Job

2011-04-15T22:56:00.002-04:00

A few weeks ago I took advantage of a Dealist offer to purchase $50 worth of children's books for $25. Now, what parent or grandparent would pass up a deal like that, eh? I did what any self-respecting granny would do: I jumped at the chance to wander through selections of books and music to pick out just the right things for GrandBoy. In the process, I discovered Little One Books.

This wonderful online shop was started by and is cared for a couple of grandparents who got the idea for Little One Books after trying to find just the right bedtime music for their young granddaughter. Overwhelmed by all the materials available, they came upon the notion of helping folks make delightful, informed choices as a way to cut through the jungle of books and music trying to get our children's attention.

According to their website:

We specialize in quality books, music, and video, for children birth through age five, and have personally reviewed and selected each and every item in our store. You'll find detailed information on why we prefer a particular product in our "Why We Chose" section of each product page.

At Little One Books, we match each product to what we believe is the youngest appropriate age group. However, our carefully selected items can and will be used for many years to come. As children develop they often find pleasure in revisiting illustrations from old favorites, and eventually learning to read them on their own.

You can shop by age or by product on the website. Since Liam still loves to chew on books (literally, not thoughtfully) and tear paper, I opted to search by age. One-year-olds still need board books for those very reasons, so that section of the site offers a marvelous variety, complete with synopsis and "Why We Chose This Book." You can also search age-appropriate music and videos. Or chose one of the "bundles."

Of course, no matter how easy Little One Books organizes and informs, I still had to choose the books and music I wanted. Ah, one of life's most pleasant dilemmas! But once I made my selections, ordering was easy and delivery to GrandBoy prompt. I even received a hand-written note from Joan on the order summary that came in the mail.

Grandparents running a children's bookstore - what a dream job! This GrandMary's envious. But I'm so glad I discovered Little One Books. And I bet GrandBoy will be glad I did, too.

Car-seat Kerfuffel

2011-03-23T21:28:00.003-04:00

Just what parents need. Confusion and guilt. The American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) laid a load on parents of 1-2 year olds the other day with its much-reported recommendation that all children up to two years of age use a rear-facing car seat. Now, most parents look forward to the day they can let their little darlings face forward in the car. It's been the rule of thumb for years that the magic turn-around time was at one year/20 lbs. Then the bombshell.

Parents of toddlers are now in frenzy, trying to sort out the facts and weigh them against the real-life disadvantages of a rear-facing 1-2 year old. All the headlines screamed that rear-facing car seats are 75% safer than front-facing. But the reports never gave real numbers - such as the number of child fatalities/year (around 1350), number of fatalities in which the children were in no child seat/restraint at all (more than half), or any other statistics that would bring that safety comparison into focus. Turns out that 75% of actual fatalities for rear- vs. front-facing is a difference of a few 100ths of a percentage points.

I searched out information from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration and the Centers for Disease Control, regarding facts about highway safety for children. I haven't found any real numbers for fatalities/injuries that compare rear-facing/front-facing, tossing out the number involving children who weren't in car seats at all, but would love to see them if available. One interesting fact I uncovered in the NHTSA paper (go to section III) was that the number of chest injuries is much higher for rear-facing than front-facing. Wonder why AAP didn't give that information?

My point is that the AAP should have rolled out their recommendations with real statistics, including the pros and cons of both seat positions. Now parents of toddlers are trying to determine whether to turn their sweeties back around from front to back, enduring wailing, lack of eye contact, scrunched up legs, car sickness, etc. - adding to driver distraction and frayed nerves all around - or leave 'em be and risk the tsk-tsking of smug parents who keep their children rear-facing until they're 12.

I don't care of what folks in Sweden do, and I don't want to hear "Scrunched legs and crying is better than a broken neck." (Better decide between a broken neck and fatal chest injuries, dear.) Riding in cars is dangerous. Period. New child safety seats are sturdy, stable, strapped-in pieces of design and manufacturing, whether they face forward or backward. Properly installed, they're about as safe as anything can possibly be in a car.

This GrandMary advises doing what works for you and your child. If your kid doesn't mind facing the rear, fine. But most toddlers want to have a better view, watch mama and daddy, move forward, have some leg room. A happy toddler means a more focused driver. Weigh your options and go with your gut.

And believe me, this will seem a piddly tempest in a teapot compared to handing over the car keys to that toddler when he or she reaches 16. Now, that's something to fear!

Found: Nemo

2011-03-20T12:44:00.002-04:00

GrandBoy loves the movie Finding Nemo. This friendship started last summer on the family road trip to Connecticut when he was only 4 months old, and the little fish continues to mesmerize our year-old little guy. So Liam's ma and pa wondered how he'd react to seeing tanks and tanks of real fish.

Yes, a trip to the Georgia Aquarium was in order.

Good decision. Not only does the world's largest aquarium fulfill a Nemo-lover's wildest dreams, but it is extremely toddler-friendly. And as any parent and grandparent knows, finding someplace other than McDonald's that welcomes sheer toddler-delight is tough. Well, GrandBoy got as up close and personal with the underwater creatures as possible without donning scuba gear, and his delight clearly shows.

Where do you take your active little one that allows for active feet and imaginations without an infusion of calories? Certainly backyards and parks and zoos, but what about other local "attractions" and museums? This GrandMary would love to know about those places, whatever part of the country/world they're in. Let's help each other keep our newly active human beings excited about what the world has to offer.

We want to make sure that every child finds his or her very own Nemo.

He's Walking!

2011-03-09T06:49:00.000-05:00

After a couple of months of two- and three-step trials, GrandBoy has decided that there may be some advantage to walking upright instead of speedily crawling around. I suspect he'll be just a blur for the next few years. Superman, indeed.

Congratulations, Liam! Not only do you have opposable thumbs, you can walk upright.

A year ago today . . .

2011-02-21T08:55:00.001-05:00

It's GrandBoy's first birthday! This time last year we were at the hospital - two of us doing all the work (one pushing for all she was worth, the other fighting his way out), Dad was counting and coaching, and GrandMary was on photo/video and whatever-else-was-needed duty. So now we celebrate one whole year.

A whole houseful of people partied with Liam yesterday - family, little friends, big friends - and it was a fun, splendiferous event. He held up well, stayed in good spirits, and only had to be hosed off once (after the destruction of the birthday cake).

It's been a wonderful year. This sweet little boy has blessed our lives beyond measure. As his GrandMary I wish him years of health, happiness, friendships, learning, faith, and love.

Happy Birthday, dear Liam! We love watching you grow!

King of Hearts

2011-02-14T14:17:00.000-05:00

Happy Valentine's Day 2011!

The Pragmatic (Grand)Parent

2011-02-05T13:12:00.006-05:00

Outrageous parenting styles have gotten out of hand. I know I'm a Grand and have outgrown my right to have any say in the business, but sheesh! Tiger Moms? Helicopter Parents? Attachment Parenting? Hot-saucing? Really? Really? Does everything have to be so extreme, even child-rearing? Well, at the risk of being labeled an old fuddy-duddy, here's my two-cents' worth. I call it Pragmatic Parenting.

The Pragmatic Parent has three goals:

Keep the child safe and healthy.
Raise a person who can function emotionally, intellectually, culturally, and creatively in the wider world and within the family.
Build a relationship of love, trust, and respect, while teaching personal responsibility (actions have consequences) and independence.

Now, there is no one bright and shining way of achieving the Pragmatic Parent goals. You may need a little Tiger Mom one minute, Attachment Parent the next, and a full-range of other styles - often made up on the spot - throughout any given day. Hence the word "pragmatic." (But NEVER hot-saucing! Never.) And you know what? Sometimes (many times) you're going to mess up. Welcome to life on earth.

I realize that good old-fashioned common sense is out of favor right now. And let's face it, common sense does seem to be in short supply, from government to banking to education to walking on a crowded sidewalk. However. If you find yourself running low on common sense, just keep repeating the three goals of the Pragmatic Parent. I really believe you'll figure it out.

And if your kid has a gift for playing the guitar and not the piano or violin, if s/he wants to go to a slumber party, or if you need to use a stroller, well, darn it, go with it. I don't see any of those things breaking the rules of practicality or causing the downfall of civilization.

Now, give that sweet baby/child/teen a hug. Or send 'em to their rooms. Whatever makes the most sense right now.

A Little Off the Sides, Ma'am

2011-02-03T20:01:00.002-05:00

GrandBoy has conquered another milestone: his first haircut.

It was an emergency job after a "little trim" went slightly awry. 'Nuff said. (But that little baby-mullet just had to go!)

Anyway, off we pranced to Pigtails & Crewcuts, where wonderful vintage peddle cars take the place of standard barber chairs, providing just enough distraction to allow the wielding of scissors. Our little guy was in a yellow taxi.

Turning the steering wheel and munching animal crackers kept him oblivious to the action taking place up on his head.

Fortunately, Liam is blessed with a headful of dark hair, so he had plenty to spare.

And now - voila! - a big boy haircut! That's our guy!

Amidst the cold and snow: 11 months!

2011-01-21T10:21:00.001-05:00

Despite the icy, snowy weather in Atlanta this first month of 2011, GrandBoy has managed to sprout more teeth, increase his mobility, add more babble-words, and - wait for it - wave! Happy 11th month, Liam. Ride 'em cowboy on that wonderful hand-made rocking horse from your Papa George!

Boys and girls, come out to play!

2011-01-07T11:23:00.001-05:00

It may be time to pack up the batteries and break out the blocks. The New York Times had an article the other day about restoring real play to our children's lives. Old fashioned, non-computerized toys and games teach a lot of life skills that all the fancy make-your-baby-a-genius gadgets can't. Dolls, balls, blocks, furniture cushions, pots and pans, sturdy cardboard boxes, and the like give children a chance to figure things out for themselves, create magical worlds, and just be silly.

And remember the active games you used to play with friends - Red Rover, Red Light/Green Light, Mother May I, Simon Says? If our kids are missing out on these, they're missing out on lots of fun, plus (for all of you who simply must have some educational value attached) real-life experiences that will carry them through adulthood. And, c'mon, how many toddlers would prefer watching a video to a rousing game of Duck-Duck-Goose, eh? All the squeals of delight. All the sense of accomplishment. All the quick-decision-making. Why, I'm up for a hard-core game of Red Rover right now!

GrandBoy and I spend a lot of time with blocks. I stack them up, and he knocks them down. He rarely loses interest in knocking down something I've built. He may wander off to try something else, but the minute he spies two or four or seven blocks stacked up, he's on it - bam! - and down it comes. I can't wait until the roles are reversed, where he builds something that I can knock down. Turnabout's fair play, after all.

Yeah, it's messy and time-consuming. And sometimes work has to get done, and those videos really come in handy. But a child's imagination is priceless. We will have to spend time teaching them the songs and the rules to the games. And don't be so quick to throw out that big box.

Then, just stand back and see what happens.

Boys and girls, come out to play,
The moon doth shine as bright as day;
Leave your supper, and leave your sleep,
And come with your playfellows into the street.
Come with a whoop, come with a call,
Come with a good will or not at all.
Up the ladder and down the wall,
A halfpenny roll will serve us all.
You find milk, and I'll find flour,
And we'll have a pudding in half an hour.

2011 Wishes for GrandBoy

2011-01-01T23:28:00.000-05:00

On this first day of 2011, I have lots of wishes for you, dear GrandBoy, in the new year. I have more than 2011 wishes - I have millions. But here are the top five:

Health. I wish you the best of health in the coming months as you learn to walk and balance, try new foods, and grow in inches, pounds, and brain power. May you be kept safe as you learn to run, climb up and down stairs, jump and tumble, and that any bumps, bruises, cuts, scrapes, and hard knocks are easily patched up.
Healthy Parents. You'll need your mama and daddy to guide you for a long time, so their health is as important as your own. And may they have the energy and stamina to keep up with you!
More Laughter and Smiles than Tears. Everyone needs a good cry, especially if you're too young to tell us what you need. But I wish for you many more belly laughs, giggles, and toothy grins than tears in the coming year.
Friends. Learning to sort out life-lessons with other little kids will help you more than just hanging out with the old folks all the time. Church, Gymboree, family gatherings, and assorted play dates are good places to find friends, GrandBoy. Learn to give and take. You will learn from your friends, and you have things to teach them.
Good Old Fashioned Play. Make noise, stack blocks and knock them down, let your bare toes squish in mud and sand, roll around on the floor and in the grass, learn to swing and slide, get wet. Have fun, sweet boy, have fun!

May the coming year keep you safe and joyful, loving and kind. Happy 1st New Year, GrandBoy!

All Things Bright and Beautiful. And Noisy. And Fun.

2010-12-31T11:58:00.004-05:00

Christmas is much more fun with little children around. I would also venture to say it's more meaningful. Though I argue against the "Christmas is for children" sentiment, adding a small child (or two or eight) to the mix seems to make the season bloom. It's easy to disconnect from the joy and realities of a newborn baby causing such a holy ruckus if there aren't little kids amongst your celebration.

Our family is blessed with a passel of children these days. At our annual family gathering, ten of us were under the age of 9. Even the uncles, aunts, and cousins without children of their own were carrying a baby or talking wide-eyed to a tot on the knee. It was the first Christmas for GrandBoy Liam and his little 4-month-old cousin Elijah. Lucky for them they had lots of older cousins to show them how to party with the family.

A baby's first Christmas also begins new family traditions for the mama and daddy. Which gifts do we wrap? Which are from Santa? Do we open anything on Christmas Eve or leave it all until Christmas morning? How do you put this darn thing together (now that it's very late and we've had several glasses of wine)? Who's in charge of taking pictures and video? Traditions, of course, evolve over the years, but many are set that first year.

Church on Christmas Eve is a big part of that tradition, though we moved from the formal evening service to the 3pm wild and woolly service more suitable for little kids. GrandBoy was decked out in adorable green overalls and his tiny little saddle oxfords. Daddy took him outside during the homily, but Liam was good as gold the rest of the time. He took it all in stride.

Christmas morning was filled with colorful toys that blinked and sang and made funny noises. Mickey Mouse and his crowd welcomed Liam aboard his new firetruck. A little tool bench lit up and made a multitude of sounds, as did play tables, keyboards, and a variety of baby-type cellphones and musical instruments. (Remind me to buy Fisher-Price stock.) GrandBoy knew something special was going on, though he had no idea why trees and lights and stockings and good smells suddenly filled his home.

And he got his first taste of warm cinnamon rolls. Well, it is Christmas, after all. He can eat carrots the rest of the year, right?

It's very easy to understand angels, wise men, and an adoring mother when your own little tot is giggly and wide-eyed. Even dirty diapers and tantrum tears bring us into the reality of cherished babyhood.

Thank you, sweet GrandBoy and all of the little children, for helping us experience the holy and wonderful mysteries of Christmas.

A Winter Solstice, A Lunar Eclipse, & A 10-month Celebration

2010-12-21T19:35:00.000-05:00

Lots of things happen on the 21st of the month, especially in December and most especially this year. While the winter soltice happens every year, GrandBoy's 10-month celebration of his birth and a lunar eclipse that hits on the shortest day of the year are rare events, indeed.

It's a grand time to turn 10 months old. So many tasty ornaments, packages, and - oh, yeah - cookies!

Our best Christmas gift came 10 months ago. We love you, sweet Liam!

Read Me a Sto-Ho-Ho-ry

2010-12-12T15:04:00.006-05:00

Do you have a favorite Christmas picture book? We've accumulated quite a stack over the years, and I treasure each of them for one reason or another: a funny premise, a meaningful story, incredible illustrations, and plain, old nostalgia.

The Christmas book that taps into my earliest memories is the Little Golden Book version of The Night Before Christmas. There have been a lot of iterations over the years, but the one I'm talking about is from the early 1950s. I was just a little thing when I first saw it, but to this day whenever I hear the Clement Moore poem, I'm seeing those Little Golden Book pictures in my head. And that's the long-lasting power of picture books.

One of my very favorites from my motherhood days is Peter Spier's Christmas! (1983). As with most of Spier's books (Rain, People), there are no words - just detailed illustrations containing lots of little gifts for the eyes and imagination. The book shows all the preparations and excitement leading up to Christmas - getting money out of a Christmas Club account (so banks still have those?), making Christmas decorations and cookies, caroling, snowball fights, Christmas Eve church service, and the aftermath of taking down decorations and looking forward to, yes, next Christmas. Daughter and I spent a lot of time looking through this book when she was growing up.

Now, GrandBoy's not old enough to appreciate the intricacies of Christmas! or most of the books we have on hand. His current favorite is That's Not My Santa, probably because it's a board book with a fuzzy-bearded Santa and real tasty corners.

Once he outgrows the urge to taste his books before opening, he'll enjoy the Christmas ones we've collected over the years. And think of all the fun of adding to the stack year after year! I can't wait to have GrandBoy on my lap or cuddled next to me finding new ways to love these books. They are meant to be shared.

What are your favorite Christmas picture books?

Baby Meets Turkey

2010-11-25T21:16:00.000-05:00

Happy First Thanksgiving, Liam! (Who is now a big fan of turkey and pumpkin pie.)

Can babies have Thanksgiving, too?

2010-11-21T20:13:00.000-05:00

Seems they can, according to this article in BabiesToday.com. How about Turkey and Cranberry puree? Or Baked Acorn Squash? I don't know about you, but that's sounding pretty good to me, and I'm no baby.

Or try Wholesome Baby Food's One Pot Thanksgiving Dinner, that includes turkey, winter squash, white potato, sweet potato, and cranberries. Mmm-mmm, good. You can also find recipes for baby-fied apple pie, pumpkin pie, and squishy squashy sweet potatoes.

Go to the Parenting website to see which Thanksgiving foods are fine for baby, as well as a list of those to avoid.

So pull those high chairs up to the table, and let those sweet little Pilgrims share in the feast!

It's 9 (months) in November

2010-11-21T19:48:00.000-05:00

We love you more and more each day, sweet GrandBoy, and can't imagine our lives without you.

Baby-socialization

2010-11-14T14:28:00.001-05:00

There comes a time when first-borns and children without sisters and brothers have to be thrown into the ring with other kids. GrandBoy is starting his baby-socialization stage, thanks to birthday parties, family and church events, play dates, Gymboree and the Y, and so forth.

It's just the beginning of all those life lessons to be learned as he figures out how to negotiate the big wide world: sharing, playing nice, NO biting or hitting, and, of course the ultimate: Hey, I may not be the entire center of the universe!

I wish him well on his socialization process. His GrandMary knows that he'll put his easy-going temperament, big flirty blue eyes, and light-up-a-room smile to good use along the way.

Good Books for Bad Children

2010-11-13T10:52:00.001-05:00

Mmmm. Subversive children's books. Right up my alley! At the risk of causing a kiddie-book burnin' amongst some of my more unsubversive friends (and I know you're out there, so we're hiding your matches), I just had to amplify this little NBC story, 9 Most Subversive Children's Books Ever Written. Curious? Here's what made the list:

Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
The Red Balloon by Albert Lamorisse
The Little Engine That Could by Watty Piper
The Story of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf
The Lorax by Dr. Seuss
Yurtle the Turtle by Dr. Seuss
Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmans
Curious George by H.A. Rey
Click, Clack, Moo: Cows That Type by Doreen Cronin

Except for The Lorax (1971) and Click, Clack (2000), these are the books of my childhood. Explains a lot. I could add a string of equally subversive books to the list, like Eloise (or how a precocious 6-year-old rules the Plaza), Make Way for Ducklings (or how an uppity mama-duck controls traffic in Boston), and The Giving Tree (or how a self-sacrificing tree can spawn generational environmental activism). And all Dr. Seuss books and fairy tales are subversive, right? Nancy Drew? Laura Ingalls? Whoa, yeah.

Obedient, always-follow-the-rules children (or turtles or bulls or inanimate toys) just aren't that interesting, face it. We like our literary and movie heroes feisty, a little (or a lot) naughty, and to have the ability to think for themselves, whatever the consequences. Their thoughts and actions add spice to ordinary day-to-day living. Adults learn from - and often envy - these characters. Very dangerous stuff.

Must remember to pick up that Click, Clack book for GrandBoy.

Feel free to add to the subversive children's book list (and I'd love to hear from my friends in the UK regarding your favorites).

Happy Monkey-ween!

2010-10-31T19:40:00.000-04:00

Our little monkey's first Halloween. He's unhappy because he can't eat the Snickers or Butterfingers.

And October Makes 8 (Months)

2010-10-21T14:46:00.001-04:00

The handsome feller with his mouth full of cereal puffs hit the 8-month mark today. Lookin' good, Little Guy! We've got plenty of time to work on those table manners. Enjoy messy eating while it's still socially acceptable for you!

High Aspirations

2010-10-18T15:40:00.001-04:00

Every mountain-climber has to start somewhere. It won't be long before GrandBoy's scaling tall bookshelves and jumping off.

Ah, the adventures of toddler-hood!

I love the look of "Uh-oh! Busted!" in the top picture.

Then he turns on the old smiley-charm in the second one.

Yes, it won't take him long to figure out how to climb to the top of anything with a suitable hand-hold/foot-hold.

My advice? Make the house as safe as possible. Anchor everything to the wall. Train the dogs to provide cushion when Liam falls. Stock up on band-aids.

Then do what my mother did: say a little prayer and just don't watch.

Congratulations and best of luck in all of your new mobility ventures, Liam buddy!

Look At My Two New Teeth, Everybody!

2010-10-11T15:48:00.000-04:00

Trading Pictures for Words

2010-10-07T22:19:00.006-04:00

An article in the New York Times today reported that based on sales figures and research, picture books are no longer a staple for children. (Clarificaton of my original post.) I find that incredibly sad if it's true. Seems parents are pushing their young children to put down the colorful, imaginative picture books and move on to reading chapter books. Not that chapter books aren't imaginative - they are, if the reader is old enough to understand the concepts and situations.

But, oh, what those children are missing by not being allowed to wallow in divine illustrations and limited text! All the different types of illustration genres, all the opportunity to breathe life into pictures on a page through imagination, all the beyond-words experiences - missed, to push a child ever onward as quickly as possible. It makes me want to weep. Who are these parents?

Yes, Goodnight, Moon and Dr. Seuss still sell well, but fewer and fewer new offerings are flying off the shelves.

I suggest building up your young child's picture book library. Don't know where to start? Go to the local book store and spend time looking at picture books. My bet is that you'll get stuck there and never want to come out. But if you need more ideas, the New York Public Library has a list of 100 essential picture books here. What memories that list brought back! Strega Nona, Make Way for Ducklings, Corduroy, Miss Nelson is Missing . . . and so many more.

Children's picture books are one of the most creative mediums on the face of the earth. What rich experiences are missed if those picture books are tossed aside for chapter books too soon! Picture books encourage conversation and figuring things out and "this is what I see." Who wants to miss those conversations with your children and grandchildren?

Not me.

Pulled This Way and That

2010-10-03T19:33:00.002-04:00

I am an absentee GrandMary. Well, "absentee" is not the right word; I am a long-distance GrandMary. That's not so unusual. Many grandparents and grandchildren live in different places, separated by miles and mountains and rivers, skyscrapers and strip malls. It's a hard thing. Even with phone calls, digital pictures coming through email, and Skype, I'm not there to lend another pair of hands, arms, and eyes when needed, or to take advantage of opportunities to attend fall festivals, church events, or a restaurant meal with the family.

I have a job I love in New York City - 850 miles from Atlanta and GrandBoy. Jobs of any kind are hard to come by in this economy, especially for someone my age. Just quitting and heading home is not a viable option. Pulling up stakes and heading home would involve all sorts of chaos in all sorts of ways. But I have to weigh that reality with the tug on my heartstrings.

Because I'm so far away, I'm missing family time that I can't get back. Well, boo-hoo. That's true for most people. For whatever reasons, folks who love each other live apart. Fact of life. And face it. Even if I moved back to Atlanta, I'm not sure how that would work, day in, day out, anyway.

Comes with the territory, I reckon. Things are they way they are. Period. I love my job. I love New York. I love Kate and Greg and Liam. I love Atlanta. I suspect it's going to get harder as time goes by, and sooner of later I will want to figure out a way to get back home. But for now I'll have to make do with Skype and email and LGA/ATL plane trips. Ah, me.

Bath Time!

2010-09-23T18:51:00.000-04:00

Celebrating Fall and Month #7

2010-09-21T18:31:00.000-04:00

As we welcome the first day of autumn, this GrandMary is also celebrating GrandBoy's 7-month birthday.

I know, I know. How many of these monthly countdowns must be celebrated, right? Answer: all of them.

So, here's to the end of summer (yea!), a big welcome to fall, and seven great months with Baby Liam!

Day 8: Thankful, Relieved, Loved

2010-09-10T21:13:00.002-04:00

My reign over GrandBoy and his three doggies is almost at an end. His parents are due home within an hour or so and - no surprise - they can't wait to get their hands on the babe. Now that Liam is safely tucked into bed (until his parents come home, at least), I can confess what most worried me as I started the week. Only three things, really, and I'm proud to say that none of the worries came to pass.

First, I was scared I'd drop Liam coming down the stairs. Yep, I did it a month or so ago - my foot slipped on last step and down came baby, GrandMary and all. (Fortunately, I broke his fall, mostly. We're both fine.) Anyway, with that on my resume, I've spent this week counting each step out loud (there are 18) as we come down. And of course I hold the banister. Whew. I must've come down those steps with Liam 234,629 times, more or less, this week, and we both got through it unscathed.

Second, I was afraid he might slide out of my hands as I got him out of the bath. No problem. At all. Never even an issue.

Third, I was terrified that I would forget to disarm the house alarm in the mornings. To help me remember, I stuck reminders at each of the exterior doors reminding me to turn off the alarm. Never set it off, not once. All those little sticky notes really helped.

GrandBoy and I had a busy but happy Day 8. Not much napping happened, but a lot of food was consumed (on Liam's part). We played hard and giggled a lot. We put pennies in his piggy bank and did a couple of errands that took us out of the house.

And now, with Ma and Pa's arrival imminent, GrandMary is thankful for so much time with her precious GrandBoy, relieved that none of her fears came to pass, and feeling very loved by a sweet little guy.

Day 7: And a Partridge in a Pear Tree

2010-09-09T22:06:00.002-04:00

Well, not quite, but at one point in the day, I wouldn't have been surprised if somehow a partridge worked its way into the schedule. Four calls from the recycle company scheduled to haul some of my junk out of Kate and Greg's basement. Three dogs ('nuff said). Two AT&T guys who came to install Uverse, one of whom got his schedule mixed up (supposed to come Saturday). And one sweet GrandBoy.

Throughout the chaos, Liam was a real sweetie pie, an excellent eater, a superior laugher, and a patient receiver of kisses. Craziness all around, but GrandBoy was the strong center. And his GrandMary didn't for one minute forget the focus of attention.

Were there challenges? Certainly. Especially trying to sort out the AT&T scheduling mixup, which happened during Liam's afternoon nap and my ONE chance to eat lunch. Hmph!

However, life was so hectic today that I didn't get a chance to take any cutie-pie pictures. You'll have to make do with this last-minute effort as he was cuddled next to my leg - great little profile, chubby yummy arm.

Tomorrow is my last full day as Lone Ranger GrandMary. It looks to be another hectic one, especially since I have two work meetings via phone and an important errand to run all before noon. Hang with me, Liam! We'll get through this!

Day 6: Snap Frustration

2010-09-08T21:27:00.001-04:00

Another timeless question: Are snaps really the best closures for baby garments? In the 21st century? Really? That's the best we can do?

Do the folks who pound those little suckers onto onesies and footed jammies ever try close those snaps on a wriggly, twisty, kicking-like-a wild-mule baby? And do all the "testers" have perfect eye-hand coordination? Grrr! Those little snaps are so stress-inducing, for both the snapper and the snappee. I mean, it's tough enough working chubby, flailing little arms through the sleeves of baby garments, but then to have to match up fifty itty-bitty snaps is more that GrandMary's hands and eyes can handle most days.

No, I have no solution to better fasteners, but then that ain't my job. I can see where zippers might be uncomfortable (unless they were really soft and flexible) and velcro might cause problems (though nothing comes to mind). I'm looking for something magical. Preso-chango! You're fastened up! I realize snaps have a certain nostalgic quality, but we can do better.

OK, so beyond the snap difficulties, Day 6 was fraught with very short baby naps, resulting in low-grade, needy whimpering for little stretches of time. Otherwise, GrandBoy scarfed down all his solids and all of his bottles. He managed many a chuckle, despite the lack of sleep. And who can resist that precious smile and those huge blue eyes? We had to forego lunch with a friend (sorry Richard!), but it was for the best for all concerned.

Now, sweetly sleeping with his tiny butt in the air, GrandBoy is erasing all the day's frustrations. He is a dear and darling little feller. His GrandMary couldn't love him more. Sweet dreams, baby Liam.

Day 5: A Baby's Eyes

2010-09-07T21:35:00.002-04:00

Holding GrandBoy tonight before he drifted off to sleep, I spent a few minutes staring into his eyes. We really studied each other for a bit of time, accompanied by his little half smiles and my cooing, when a great universal truth hit me: babies don't care a flip about whether you're old or young or ugly as sin or having a bad hair week or you haven't brushed your teeth yet or put on a clean t-shirt in two days. No, babies don't see any of that stuff. They just feel the love.

And that's it. That pretty much sums up our day today and all of our time together.

That said, here are some cute pictures of my Mr. Smiley Cheeks just after his bath. On to Day 6!

Day 4: Too Tired To Move

2010-09-06T23:34:00.000-04:00

The day started early. 4:30am. Normally, I'd've let GrandBoy tough it out and go back to sleep until a more civilized hour, but in the back of my brain, I knew he hadn't eaten as much solid food as he should have the day before. I cut him some slack and gave him a bottle at that ungodly hour. Fortunately for both of us he settled back down to a real dozy sleep and didn't ring my chimes until a little after 8.

So. The entire schedule was a little off, but we managed to work in all the naps and required bottles. Plus, I found the secret to getting him to finish off his solid foods. I just plop him in his Bumbo on the table on the back deck and feed him outside. The only distractions are the breeze through the trees and a few crickets. He seems to like it that way. He finished everything I poked his way sitting out on the back deck.

GrandBoy's a little frustrated with the crawling situation. He's pretty good going in reverse, but he just hasn't figured out how to put it in "drive." He can scootch along, not really crawl, forward; he knows something's not working and after a bunch of tries, he reverts to the scootch. Or crawls backward. Still, it's just a matter of time. Maybe tomorrow?

Well, tomorrow's another busy day, and this old GrandMary needs to hit the hay, sending up prayers that the babe has a full enough tummy to take him to at least 7am.

Remind me to book a massage. G'night.

Day 3: Big Questions

2010-09-05T21:51:00.000-04:00

Now that I've settled into the baby-routine, certain questions keep coming up. Funny thing, seems as though I had the same questions 27 years ago with GrandBoy's mama. Hm. So, if anybody has the answers to one or more, I'd appreciate hearing them.

How can such a small, sweet baby contain so much poo? Good, rich fertilizer poo, certainly, but poo all the same. What comes out of him weighs about three times more that he does. How is that possible?
How - after hours of vigorous kicking and bouncing, a tummy full of carrots, bananas, and milk, and a dark room with a relaxing ceiling fan and ocean-wave sound machine - can GrandBoy still try to resist sleep? (GrandMary - 'way bigger than the babe - nods off quite easily with just half those elements in play.)

And speaking of vigorous kicking and bouncing, how on earth does this tiny creature keep it up for so long? Today he bounced in his little horsey bouncer for almost 45 minutes. Really. Didn't even break a sweat. Just boing-boinged minute after minute.

It was such a beautiful, cool morning, that GrandBoy ate al fresco, licking bowl and the spoon. No wonder he's Mr. Chunky Thighs. Then he amused himself for a while, giggling at himself in the mirror. We also ventured out for the first time in a few days - just drove around with the car windows down, getting a little fresh air.

Oh, and we really got into Sesame Street this morning and learned a new song: Let Your Piggies Breathe, whereupon we let our piggies breathe by going barefoot.

Looking forward to tomorrow's adventures!

And the evening and the morning were the third day.

Day 2: A Perfect Saturday

2010-09-04T22:02:00.000-04:00

Well, things could've gone one of two ways after yesterday, up or down. Fortunately for all concerned it was up, up, up. A day filled with a couple of long naps (and yeah, I took advantage of GrandBoy's morning nap to take one of my own), sticking to the schedule, eating all the designated food, playing outside and letting the breeze blow through our hair, laughing, singing, and dancing.

I'm trying to introduce some new songs to his repertoire. His top two favs - "Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes" and "If You're Happy And You Know It" - are getting a little old. Our standard mealtime song is now "Sing, Sing A Song." Liam particularly likes the "La la la la la, la la la la la la" part. Always makes him smile, even with a mouthful of peas. I'm also getting him ready for Christmas caroling with "Away In A Manger," "Midnight Clear," and "First Noel."

We welcomed in the 2010 college football season with a photo session, complete with his baby TCU t-shirt and his mama's Alabama cap. Alas, neither game was televised in Atlanta and both were scheduled after his bedtime. I'm sure he'll have several chances to catch up with both teams later on in the season.

Baby Boy is sound asleep after his busy day. Wish you could see him right now, in his little footed pajamas, tiny butt up in the air, sweet little hands next to his face. A good day deserves a good night's rest.

Sweet dreams, sweet GrandBoy.

Day 1: Successful Morning, If-fy Afternoon

2010-09-03T20:50:00.000-04:00

The good news is that both Liam and GrandMary survived a full day. The babe is down for the night - well-fed, duly bathed. And as you can imagine, GM is plum tuckered out and, for all intents and purposes, is down for the night, too. The dogs are sympathetically a-lounge. We've all played our parts in keeping the Young Prince as jolly as possible.

The morning went right on schedule, even though it started very early by getting the ma and pa on their way to the airport by 6am. The nap, the meals, the playtime - all perfectly wonderful. Alas, the afternoon proved more troublesome. That nap didn't last quite long enough, and GrandBoy's temper went a bit downhill afterwards. We played, we bounced, we strolled to the park and played on the swings, and one of us was a bit of a Grumpy Gus. I won't say who. (Liam)

But do not think that the day was at all dreary. GrandBoy and GrandMary got in plenty of laughs, lots of songs, numerous dances, and kisses, kisses, kisses. Such a yummy little baby!

Despite a few last-minute tears before guzzling down his last bottle, GrandBoy settled down to sleep very quickly. I'm counting on not hearing a peep outta him before 6:30-7 tomorrow morning. (Please, God.)

After all is said and done, I find my arms and shoulders really sore, and I don't have much of an appetite. A hot bath and a cool bed are sounding pretty good. There seems to be plenty of gin and tonic around, but I do believe I'm just too tired for a drink. Ho-hum.

Now, on to Day 2.

A Week With GrandMary

2010-09-02T22:15:00.001-04:00

I have been given sole charge of GrandBoy for a whole week and a day. His ma and pa are heading to a tropical paradise for some much-needed rest, relaxation, and recharging. Armed with 4 pages of typed instructions concerning the babe, three dogs, and a whackin' great house, plus a fully stocked cupboard for GrandBoy and GrandMary, and various insurance cards and alarm codes - I'm ready to rock.

Though Liam tried his best to stow away in Mama's luggage (see picture), the fact is that he'll be spending a fun-filled eight days with GrandMary - learning new songs, dances, nursery rhymes, and just general goofy behavior. He's too young for rum-drinkin' and massages, anyway. However, I do plan to teach him to walk, catch a baseball, say the Lord's Prayer, and feed himself while his parents are gone. And just maybe we'll coax a tooth or two from those little gums.

But whatever it is we spend our days doing, we'll be having just as much fun as his ma and pa. We'll be plum tuckered out by the end of every day and go to sleep dreaming about all the hi-jinx we've been up to.

Our first day (tomorrow) will start really early, since we have to get Ma and Pa to the MARTA station headed for the airport by 6am. Yes, 6am. But once that's done, well, hang on to your hats! Non-stop fun. Well, some-stop fun, since we simply must work in a few naps and a lot of eating.

Now, do I have all y'all's phone numbers in case I have to call in the troops? Hm?

Baptizing GrandBoy

2010-08-15T18:53:00.003-04:00

I talked to a good friend yesterday who expressed keen sadness that her grand-daughter wasn't going to have her great-grand-daughter baptized. My friend had been so excited when the little girl was born, pulling out the carefully packed away baptismal gown her daughter and granddaughter had worn, in anticipation of yet another baby girl wearing it. Alas for my friend the new parents don't really hold with religious traditions.

Our family does hold with the importance of baptism, so GrandBoy was welcomed into the household of God on Sunday, August 8, at All Saints' Episcopal Church, Atlanta. Godmother Debbie and Liam's cousins Lauren and Amber drove all the way from Texas for the event. Our family and friends filled two pews during the 9am service that welcome six children into the Church. It meant so much to have so many folks we love - including our dear All Saints' community - witness Liam's baptism. How joyful!

What did he wear? Well, not his mother's baptismal gown. We decided a sweet white little boy romper and cap might suit him better. And he did look so sweet!

GrandBoy behaved himself throughout the service, taking the whole thing in stride. His parents and godparents made some pretty serious promises ("with God's help"), and he got water on his head and oil on his forehead.

After the service, we all moved to a fine brunch at Basil's in Buckhead for eating, drinking, loud talking, and gift-opening. Cousin Lizzie made delish cupcakes for everyone, complete with greeny-blue icing and white crosses. Yum!

I feel for my friend's disappointment, and you can debate the pros and cons of baptizing a child just in the name of tradition rather than a solid religious commitment, depending on your own traditions and commitments. But for us, last Sunday was a glorious day for our family and the friends who will support Liam as he grows.

Mr. Giggle-Britches

2010-07-22T11:27:00.002-04:00

Laughing babies are great entertainment!

My how time flies - 5 months old!

2010-07-21T09:08:00.000-04:00

Laughing. Jabbering. Eating solid food. Rolling over. Sitting up. Bouncing. Just starting to figure out that he might be able to crawl, if he can just get those little knees pushed under him. And no telling what he's thinking!

Happy 5th Month, Liam!

Little Pun'kin Meets the Big Apple

2010-07-16T15:53:00.003-04:00

What to do when you want to see all of New York City with GrandBoy in tow, but the temperature outside is 100+? Baby safety and comfort are priorities #1 and #2, of course, so among the three of us (Ma, Pa, GrandMary) we had to come up with a few workable options to keep the little one calm, cool, and collected.

Stroller hood blocking sun. Check.
Hat for Babe. Check.
Baby sunscreen (applied every 30 seconds or so). Check.
Burp cloth soaked in cold water + witch hazel (to wrap around Babe's neck, wipe him down, or cover his legs. Check.
Spritz bottle filled with cold water to spray him down. Check.
Pulling into any available heavily air-conditioned establishment every 20 minutes. Check.

OK. So that plan of attack worked pretty well, actually. The only thing that had us stumped for a while was the spritz bottle. We went into 7-8 stores - Duane Reade, Walgreens, KMart (yes, there's a KMart at Astor Place in NYC), beauty supply shops - to no avail. Finally found one at the Duane Reade on 6th Avenue (Ave of the Americas to you turistas) around 44th. Who'd a' thunk? Must've been a run on spritz bottles in the heat, but we're glad we had it as we traveled about.

And Liam survived the whole thing very well, mainly by power-napping and power-eating. Which is the way most people handle New York City, by the way. He survived the subways and buses. He survived Midtown, Times Square, Union Square, Chinatown, SoHo, Lower Manhattan, Little Italy, and my digs in Spanish Harlem.

As his GrandMary and NYC Tour Guide, I declare GrandBoy's first trip to New York City a whopping success. I hope the next time he comes the weather will be a little more temperate so that we can stroll through Central Park and walk the Brooklyn Bridge. But this was a good start.

And he was the cutest Little Pun'kin that the Big Apple had ever seen.

Baby Hits the Beach

2010-07-12T13:31:00.000-04:00

GrandBoy's first experience with toes in salt water was not the Atlantic or Pacific Oceans or the Gulf of Mexico. Nope. It was Long Island Sound at Hammonassett Beach State Park. After the long road trip from Atlanta to Connecticut for a family wedding over the 4th of July weekend, babe and his parents felt a day at the beach was in order. GrandMary and assorted other family members tagged along.

The biggest concern was making sure Liam was well-protected from the sun. He wore a tiny UV-protected wet suit instead of a little bathing suit, and his head and neck was covered with a version of the old Foreign Legion cap - this one in red, white, and blue. We made sure his wrap-around sunglasses were in place when he was in the bright sun and applied sunscreen every few minutes. He took his nap under a beach umbrella. The sun didn't have a chance!

Though the day was warm and breezy, the water was brrrrr-cold, so he didn't get (or want) much chance to play in the surf. He took it all in stride, holding court in someone's lap while the grown ups sunned themselves or quaffed a few beach beers.

There are more beaches in his future, I'm sure, but this is his first. I'm not sure what he experienced about the event. I am sure that he didn't get sunburned.

Full Heart, Aching Arms

2010-07-11T22:45:00.001-04:00

Those of you with small children know the feeling: heart full of love for the precious child asleep in your arms and the almost-unbearable aching numbness of the arm holding the child. A pillow, armrest, or "boppy" takes some of the weight, but even with cushioning, sooner or later a throbbing, slightly electrical charge will start working its way up from your elbow to shoulder to neck.

Awwww. But the baby is so sweet nestled in the crook of my arm! Maybe if I shift this way. Nope. Move the babe's head that way. Definitely, no. Flex my wrist and roll my shoulders? Sigh. No.

And you find yourself wondering just how long an arm can stay in one position supporting the child's weight before all circulation is cut off and the arm falls off. Will a 90-minute deep tissue massage of your shoulder and neck relieve the ache? A long soak in Epsom Salts? A fistful of pain relievers?

Still, the little sugar dumpling is just too adorable to put down. So what if I'm sore for a day or two and have to live on Aleve for the next week. Who wants to miss the Sleeping Baby Show? Most times, you can just chuck the kid in the crib or whatever sleep apparatus is available. Other times, there's either nowhere to put the little darling down or any major shift will disturb the sleep.

These pictures were taken as GrandBoy slept in my arms during an outing to the beach in Connecticut. We were out of the sun, under an umbrella, but I was in a camp chair with soft armrests (no pillow or other support). My arm almost detached and rolled off into the sand, but look how cute he is! Well, in the battle of pain vs. cute, cute wins every time.

And I still have my arm.

Baby's First Road Trip

2010-07-07T22:27:00.002-04:00

How would carseat-hating 4-month-old GrandBoy cope with an extended road trip from Georgia to Connecticut? That was the question gnawing at Daughter and Son-in-Law in the weeks leading up to the July journey. Well, thanks to an animated fish (and, I suspect, a GrandBoy who somehow understood deep down that he was stuck, for better or worse), the question has been answered most positively. All that needless worrying.

The drive was made in one fell swoop, in large part because Liam snoozed for long stretches, the theory being that as long as Baby was asleep or occupied - with no hysterical, nerve-splitting crying - push on while the going was good. When he wasn't sleeping the miles away, he was otherwise in the magical visual spell of "Finding Nemo." He rejected "Toy Story," "101 Dalmations," and "Lady and the Tramp." Nemo, however, captivated him - the colors, the motion, the sounds. And his daddy was grateful there were no mind-numbing musical numbers to get stuck in the driver's head. So, little Nemo saves the day, as well as Mama and Daddy's nerves.

Funny how even a tiny child can be visually enthralled for long stretches of time. Wonder what Liam was thinking as he watched Nemo? Did the underwater animation soothe and relax, or was there more to it?

Well, no matter. The point is, GrandBoy is now officially a Traveling Man. And until he's old enough to face forward and watch the world whiz by (which his GrandMary hopes he'll do instead of watching videos on the move), we're more than glad to have a little fish as a travel companion.

Happy 4th Month, Liam!

2010-06-21T10:28:00.000-04:00

You get cooler every day!

Daddy Has His Day

2010-06-20T11:34:00.001-04:00

It's daddy Greg's first Fathers Day and all appropriate celebration is in order. He survived the ups and downs of Kate's pregnancy and was truly the best labor coach any woman could have. He's a real hands-on poppa and gets as big a kick out of GrandBoy Liam as anyone on the planet. Here are some of the highlights of the past four months. Happy Fathers Day, Greg!

Ain't No Cure for the Summertime Car-Seat Blues

2010-06-17T11:52:00.002-04:00

See the happy baby? Oh, sure, he's smiling now. But once he's buckled into the backseat of the car? That smile will turn to tears. Fact is, GrandBoy does not like his car-seat. Or rather, GrandBoy does not like being strapped in, facing backward and out of what he perceives to be where the action is. Yes, he has plenty of dangly, rattly toys within grasp and a mirror with which to entertain himself, but he is not a happy camper once firmly affixed in his high-tech safety car-seat.

And he lets you know it. Anyone who's ever spent time around babies and small children knows that they have an almost infinite capacity for crying. Loudly. That 20-minute rule (that babies cry themselves out within 20 minutes) is a myth. Face it, it's the only real power they have as infants, except for their extreme cuteness. They're too small and rubbery to haul off and give you a good kick when they're upset about something. So Liam gets very vocal about being strapped into a car-seat or stroller.

True, if you drive around long enough (i.e., longer - often, much longer - than 20 minutes), he'll wear himself out and fall asleep. Then woe be to the pothole or screaming siren that disturbs his cry-induced slumber! Still, we're praying he'll get used to the car/stroller sooner or later. I don't have any particular memories of his mama throwing car-seat fits (and she always loved the stroller), but maybe I've blanked out those episodes. And, yes, she finally got used to being strapped in whenever we got in a car.

My advice is just to block out the car-crying by plugging in the iPod and letting him cry himself to sleep. Daughter and Son-in-Law will need all the help they can get when they strike out for a wedding in Connecticut in a couple of weeks. Maybe a long road-trip will help GrandBoy get used to cruisin' in the backseat, watching the scenery fly by his window. Otherwise, crank up the tunes!

Anyone have suggestions for traveling (driving, not flying) with an infant? I'm sure Mama and Daddy would welcome any tricks of the the trade before heading north.

Cloth Diaper Update

2010-06-06T14:28:00.001-04:00

I promised to give a cloth diaper update once I saw them in use with GrandBoy last month. These are not your grandmother's cloth diapers - or even the cloth diapers available for Daughter 27 years ago. Forget complicated folding, but do expect a lot of Velcro and snaps. And wonderful colors like "Grasshopper," "Zinnia," and "Twilight," and even animal prints. No, your sweeet dumpling does not have to settle for tidy-whities in this day and age!

Cloth diapers come in all sorts of configurations - all-in-ones, diapers with insertable liners, all-in-ones that let you add in a liner for those days that need a little extra sumpin'-sumpin', snaps, Velcros, more combos. Fortunately, many retailers offer trial deals, whereby they send you a sample package that includes the many variations. We ordered from three different places, based on recommendations from friends, and the diapers arrived very quickly. (I guess they know how desperate a new mother can be.)

Daughter and I used all varieties on GrandBoy to see what suited him (and us) best. The main criteria was leakage, so the way the diaper fit our particular babe was important In the end, we had three winners: bumGenius V3 All-in-One, Gro Baby One Size, and Happy Heinys One Size.

Cloth diapers are expensive. Our particular favorites are in the $15-$17/each range, and you have to make a commitment to stock in enough to avoid running the washer and dryer four times a day. That's one little thing that GrandMary can do - go online and top up the diaper supply every now and then. And let's face it, cloth diapers don't eliminate the need for disposables, which are easier if you're going out. But the price of buying disposables - even in bulk - adds up, too, so parents will just have to decide what works best for their pocketbooks. I reckon that investing in cloth diapers really makes sense if you're planning on having more than one child. Since GrandBoy's mama and daddy hope to have a couple more, what we're spending now will make sense as the diapers are used down the line.

In the end (or should I say, on the end), the only thing that matters is what works for Baby, Mama, and Daddy. I'm not sure cloth diapers would've worked for me, since I went back to work when Daughter was a couple months old (and, no, it doesn't seem to have had a negative effect on her), and I knew she would be my one and only. Disposables were a godsend. But if you're a stay-at-home mom or at least have enough cloth diapers on hand to avoid running the washer and dryer 24/7, the diapers are wonderful.

And don't you just love the colors?

When Cousins Come to Call or Happy Cinco de Mayo!

2010-05-25T10:21:00.000-04:00

The least a couple of grandmamas can do is to spring for a meal and watch the babies while a couple of young moms get the chance to eat a meal in one sitting. Cinco de Mayo proved the perfect time to do just that, as Aunt Cindy and GrandMary hi-tailed it to La Fonda to grab a celebratory take-away meal for all.

It was a beautiful day, so we spread the feast out on the table on the back deck and let Kate and Jessica dig in. Little Sarah seemed happy enough with her cheesy quesadillas, while the rest of us ate our fill of beans, burritos, tacos, chips, salsa, and guacamole. Cindy and I kept an eye on babies Liliee and Liam so the mamas could eat.

Lilee, who had a couple more weeks to go in her leg cast, was sweet as pie. Such a cheery disposition! Liam was a little fractious, since he missed his morning nap, but he pulled himself together nicely toward the end of the visit.

Another important role for grandmothers: maintaining those family ties, making sure that cousins, aunts, uncles, and extended family have as many opportunties as possible to be together. And we love spending time with our cousins!

Good talk, good fun, beautiful day - ole!

Just Too Stinkin' Cute

2010-05-23T19:55:00.001-04:00

It's a grandmother's prerogative to bring out the brag-book. Here are a few pictures of my sweet GrandBoy. Once I figure out how to share the Flip videos - watch out!

Liam, incognito. No autographs, please!

Liam and his stinkin' cute Mama and Daddy,

celebrating Mama's birthday.

Liam - shocked, surprised, wishing

GrandMary would stop taking pictures.

Liam impersonating Alfred Hitchcock. "Good Evening."

It All Comes Back To You

2010-05-22T23:11:00.000-04:00

It’s been years since I had to get up in the middle of the night to feed an infant. Or that my arm fell asleep holding a baby because I was afraid if I moved even a little, the babe would awake. Or that I had to wrestle with a wiggly tyke in an attempt to change a diaper. Funny how it all comes back when you need to call those skills back into action.

Lots of things have changed in the past 27 years. Different theories. New technology. But soothing a tiny human at 3am is the same as it’s always been. I fell into the early morning feeding schedule during my visit to Atlanta, tag-teaming with the mama (who had to get up to pump milk anyway) and the daddy, who usually took the 6am leg of the schedule. Lifting, positioning, cooing, rocking are talents that kick into auto-pilot when needed.

The routine was so familiar that it was easy to forget that I wasn’t handling my baby girl, but my GrandBoy. I think I was a little surprised by that. After all, a parent jumps from one kid-stage to another: newborn, infant, toddler, child, adolescent – it’s easy to leave each previous skill-set behind to keep up with an ever-changing offspring. But I guess you just store all of that knowledge somewhere until it’s called for again.

You can’t call up a skill you never had, though. The one thing I was lousy at with Daughter was putting her sleeping-self back into her crib without waking her. It was all a matter of luck. Sometimes I got away with it; many times, I didn’t. Well, folks, that lack o’ talent continues to this very day. You’d think I’d’ve gotten the hang of it, but I still managed to rouse GrandBoy several times during the crib put-down. I’m open to ideas on how to perfect my technique.

Some things never change.

The Best Mothers Day

2010-05-22T23:07:00.000-04:00

Daughter was only five days old when I celebrated my first Mothers Day as a bonafide mother. I was in a new-mom haze at the time, and although there are pictures documenting the day, I don’t remember much about it. This year’s Mothers Day, however, was very memorable.

That baby girl, who conferred the honor of “Mother” on me, celebrated her first Mothers Day this year. And for the first time since I moved to New York four years ago, I got to be with her. It was doubly-special to watch her commemorate the day with GrandBoy.

Son-in-Law did an outstanding job of pampering and gift-showering on Liam’s behalf. We all went to church – where we did a lot of showing off (and who wouldn’t, with such a handsome little feller?), then had a fondue-per time at The Melting Pot. Mm-mm-mm! I think the best gift Liam gave his mama (and all of us) was sleeping through the entire meal at the restaurant, allowing us to eat, drink, and be merry in peace.

As a new grandmother I had a double reason to celebrate. Watching my own baby girl join the Mothers Day Club made it the very best Mothers Day!

That Sweet, Sweet Smell

2010-05-20T14:43:00.005-04:00

There is no sweeter smell in the world than a little baby's head, face, and neck. All I did for nine whole days in Atlanta was nuzzle Liam's neck, kiss his fingers, and chew on his baby-feet. Like all human beings, he has his own smell. Whether that little head is freshly washed or sweaty from sleep, his distinct fragrance comes through. Blindfold me and put me in a roomful of babies, and I could pick out GrandBoy.

I could (and still can) do the same for Daughter. Whether a dancing 8-year-old, a sleepy 17-year-old, or a busy 27-year-old mama, she's still that infant in my arms whenever I catch a hint of her baby-smell. I could find her in a sea of humanity if I had to by her scent alone (and I'm not talking her shampoo/perfume).

Is everyone as smell-centric as I am? I have always been accused of having an acute sense of smell, whether busting Step-daughter smoking outside at 3am, the smell of which would wake me from a dead-sleep, or getting the first whiffs of burning wires or a gas leak. Well, maybe not everybody has that gift - though sometimes it's not such a gift - so maybe folks miss out on the sweet baby smells (versus the not-so-sweet baby smells).

Anyway, Sweet Liam, I have your unique smell locked into this nose of mine. Even when you're grown with big stinky man-feet, I'll know how to find you by your sweet baby smell.

The debate rages: cloth or disposables?

2010-04-30T16:15:00.002-04:00

GrandBoy is trying out cloth diapers for a while. Face it, the cost of buying disposables in bulk every time you turn around does mount up. So Kate is giving cloth diapers a whirl to see if they fit into the modern lifestyle. There seem to be all sorts of makes and models now - not just a square of soft cotton (grab the rubber pants, folks) and safety pins.

I reckon one can make an environmental argument for using cloth instead of tossing all those soggy disposables in the garbage - though, running two or three loads of diapers through a washer and dryer every day must have an environmental impact as well.

I must confess that when Kate was a baby, cloth diapers never crossed my mind. OK, maybe briefly when I was pregnant and doing a hot Krispy Kreme run, passing one of the local diaper services en route - but, seriously? No. Disposables were just too easy - hang the cost - and Kate never suffered from any rashes or infections, so, yeah, I was all about disposables. And our mothers thought we were so lucky to have disposables (and clothes dryers).

Environmental pressures are greater today (sorry, I draw my touchy-feely save-the-environment line at air conditioning and disposable diapers), and cloth diapers come in a lot of configurations now. Plus, no pins.

I'll get to see how they work up-close-and-personal once I land in Atlanta tomorrow. I still have some concerns over the "shitey-nappies," greatly preferring to hold my nose, wad 'em up, and toss 'em in the diaper pail for trash. I'm hoping they've invented something that just magically makes all that stuff disappear without much work on my part.

In the end, whatever works for whoever's having to do the work is just fine by me. Cloth, disposable - doesn't really matter. Though, Kate may want to check the trash for "loaded" diapers if I'm the one doing the changing.

I will report back. With pictures.

It's good to be 21!

2010-04-21T15:05:00.000-04:00

Today, Liam is two months old. But it's also my birthday. And we have one other lucky 21 in the family: Brother (Great Uncle) Bill's birthday is November 21.

So for the three of us, it'll be easy to remember each other's celebratory day. Now, if we can just remember the month . . .

Let's hear it for everyone born on the 21st of whatever month!

Liam's First Easter

2010-04-04T21:19:00.000-04:00

Which I had to miss, by the way. Sigh. But here are pictures of his first Easter. Such a cute little Easter egg!

Rumor has it that Liam missed most of the Easter service, preferring instead to bounce around in his daddy's arms outside. Oh, well. He has years of church services ahead of him! Happy Easter!

Dogwoods, mite boxes, Cadbury Eggs, and ukeleles

2010-04-03T23:41:00.001-04:00

Try explaining Easter to a little kid. I tried once when Kate was 4-years-old and knew I'd failed miserably when her big blue eyes got even bigger and she said "Oooh! A ghost story!" Sigh. Christmas is sooo much easier to talk about. Even a little child can understand the birth of a new baby, eh? But this raising-from-the-dead thing is a tough one to sell to, well, lots of people, but certainly to a youngster.

So we build Easter traditions and trust - we hope - that if the kid hears the story enough times s/he'll grow into it (OK, maybe four was a little young for the resurrection part). GrandBoy's Easter traditions will be set in motion by his parents and family, his church family, and perhaps some friends. He's a wee boy on his first Easter, and those traditions will start tomorrow for him.

But when his mama was growing up, her Easter traditions involved:

new clothes, usually with a hat of some kind
mite boxes (for an Easter offering) full of so many coins that they had to be taped up to hold them together
dogwoods (and whatever other spring flowers we had in the yard on Easter morn) to flower the cross at church
a crazy priest with a ukelele leading the congregation in a round of "God Is A Surprise" (Your mama will teach it to you, Liam.)
the wild and woolly race to find the Cadbury Eggs at the annual chaotic family Easter egg hunt (Cousin Mikey was ruthless where those Cadbury Eggs were concerned, as I recall.)
Honey Baked Ham. Mmm-mmm. (And one year we watched the film Babe after lunch. I know. Sick family.)

Until GrandBoy is old enough to understand the deeper meaning of Easter, lots of lovely traditions will lay a foundation for him. Not very theological, I'll admit (especially the new clothes/Cadbury Egg part), but it'll have to do for now.

Happy Easter to all! God is a surprise!

Happy Keester!

2010-04-01T10:23:00.000-04:00

A little light-hearted Easter message. Thank GrandMary's brother and your great-uncle Bill for this one, Liam!

ALL I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT LIFE I LEARNED FROM THE EASTER BUNNY

Don't put all of your eggs in one basket
Walk softly and carry a big carrot
Everyone needs a friend who is all ears
There's no such thing as too much candy
All work and no play can make you a basket case
A cute little tail attracts a lot of attention
Everyone is entitled to a bad hare day
Let happy thoughts multiply like rabbits
Some body parts should be floppy
Keep your paws off other people's jellybeans
Good things come in small sugar-coated packages
The grass is always greener in someone else's basket
An Easter bonnet can tame even the wildest hare
To show your true colors you have to come out of your shell
The best things in life are still sweet and gooey !!

Happy Easter, GrandBoy!

Announcing Liam Samuel

2010-03-30T09:49:00.000-04:00

Remember the photography session when Liam was a week old? And the thermostat in the house turned up to 78 (for those of you concerned about him being cold)? Well, here's Part I of the results: the baby announcements. I'll share the family pictures later, but for now, the announcement proofs will have to do. Enjoy!

One Month Old!

2010-03-21T08:35:00.004-04:00

Dear Liam,

A month ago today we welcomed you into the world. You were already greatly loved, even before you made your appearance, but after a few short weeks we cannot imagine a world without you.

You've had a busy month, getting to know your Mama and Daddy (and GrandMary) and lots of other family and friends. You had to learn to eat, pee, and pooh outside the comfort of the womb. Your belly button and circumcision healed. You've worn lots of cute little clothes. You've been the subject of digital cameras, Blackberry cameras, a Flip camera, and a professional photographer (and you slept through most of it). You've met the dogs.

Well, face it - there's a lot to do for a GrandBoy making his appearance into the wide, wide world.

The main thing you need to know right now (and from here on out, really) is that you are loved. You were lucky enough to be born to wonderful parents and into a big crazy family who will love you to the point of frustration when you're a teenager, but until then, enjoy it. Settle back and get comfortable in all the love.

Wish I were there to kiss your sweet face.

Love,

GrandMary

What's a newborn grandparent to do?

2010-03-06T13:43:00.000-05:00

Well, GrandMary took her cue from Kate's Grandma Marie. Right after Kate was born, her Grandma Marie came to visit for a couple of weeks. A mother of six and a nurse, she knew just how to lend support without overstepping the boundaries of new-parenthood.

She took care of the the rest of the family while I was given the luxury of getting used to the baby's routines. Cooking meals, taking care of the laundry, making sure the rest of the family had what they needed, and holding Baby Kate while this new mama took the occasional nap or washed her hair made those first crucial weeks much easier.

Marie was a great role model for how a new grandparent can help during the early days. I'm trying my best to follow her lead, even when - ooooooh! - I just want to get my hands on Baby Liam!

Marie died last September. We all wish she were still here to enjoy the newest in the clan, Liam and his cousin Aidan. But she certainly taught this new grandparent the right way to be of help to parents with a newborn babe. And I hope I do her memory justice.

America's Next Top Model

2010-03-02T14:58:00.005-05:00

Newborn photos are all the rage right now. At the recommendation of friends, the new mama and papa arranged for Amanda Treiger to showcase Baby Liam's star-potential. Yesterday morning was all about lights, camera, and as little action (great arcing streams of pee, fussiness, etc.) as possible. Fortunately, Liam is pretty calm, cool, and collected, even when naked and having his legs and arms tucked around him.

Our only instruction was to have the heat cranked up to 78 degrees so that the babe would stay warm. Once the photographer's lights, the fireplace, and central heating were on, it was like a sauna in the living room. The rest of us were sweating, but Liam was quite comfortable for his first nude photo shoot.

Amanda brings props but also uses whatever's available at the baby's home. Kate and Greg have a great black-and-off-white animal-stripey chair that worked as a very artsy-fartsy prop for GrandBoy. We also made use of the baskets, pillows, and backdrops that Amanda brought.

She knew just what to do and how to position the baby, mama, daddy, and GrandMary (yes, I got in on a couple of shots) for the greatest effect. Of course, Liam was the star, and it takes a lot of patience to wait for just the right mouth or hand position. I also liked that she made sure his little legs were crossed modestly over his private parts in every shot. Yes, his little behind shows, but that's the extent of the baby-cheesecake.

The whole thing took about three hours. We had to stop down for a feeding and, yes, had to clean up a couple of pee-accidents, but all in all, Liam took the whole thing very calmly. He slept through most of it.

We've seen a sampling of the pictures, and they are fantastic. Can't wait to see the rest of them. Thanks, Amanda, for a great experience and fabulous results!

Remembering Day One

2010-03-01T00:27:00.001-05:00

Liam is a whopping 7 days old today. So much happened from 12:30am last Sunday, when we got to Piedmont Hospital's Labor & Delivery Room #14, until around 4pm, when we left the LDR for the postpartum room! I have a little list:

The chatty euphoria brought on once the epidural took effect. The sheer relief of not having to feel the pain caused Kate to remark over and over "This is great! Why wouldn't everybody want this?" and wonder about the mental stability of anyone choosing to go natural. Hail, St. Epiduria!

Greg sleeping on the floor of the LDR. I was on the couch, and he couldn't get comfortable in the rocking chair, so he made a pallet on the floor and crashed there. For at least 4 hours. Good thing, too, because he needed all his strength to help coach Kate through the pushing phase.
Legally Blonde was playing on the TV during final labor and delivery. We chose that rather than the Sunday morning news shows. After all, w ho wouldn't want to be born during the movie that taught us all to "bend and snap"?
It was all hands on deck once the pushing phase commenced, around 10:30 Sunday morning. Kate, of course, was center of attention. Greg had her back and counted her through the pushes. I held one leg, while a nurse had the other. The doctor was where she needed to be.

Liam came out face up, just like his mama did. Neither one of them want to miss a thing, I reckon.
The whole delivery team worked like a well-oiled machine - measuring, washing, testing quickly and efficiently. But everyone was warm and cheerful, not coldly clinical.
As we were passing the nurses' station outside the LDR on the way to the postpartum room, one of the nurses told me to push a red button. It activated Brahms' Lullaby as Kate was wheeled to her room. We were told that every time a mother moves from LDR to her room the tune plays all over the hospital. True, because I heard it several times over the next couple of days wherever I happened to be - snack bar, on my way to the parking deck, in the gift shop.
The folks and facilities at Piedmont Hospital are the best! Everyone was friendly and helpful. Kate was born there almost 27 years ago. Glad she birthed her son there, too.
Greg was an outstanding labor coach. He did the counting during contractions, counting very slowly and keeping Kate focused. Excellent job, Dad!

Kate was, as always, a real trouper. Her full speed ahead, let's git-'er-done attitude got her through the worst of it. Within minutes of giving birth, she said "Yeah, I can definitely do that again!"

So, for Liam, a little snapshot of events from the hours surrounding his birth. We're all in love with him. Looking forward to watching him grow!

"Thanks, Mom"

2010-02-27T11:58:00.002-05:00

I know that new mothers (and GrandMarys) are emotional, tears flowing at the least little thing. But this Proctor & Gamble commercial airing during the Winter Olympics pushes all the mama-buttons, whether you're holding a newborn or having a glass of wine with your adult child. Grab the tissues, and have a look:

Settling in

2010-02-25T17:16:00.000-05:00

At 4 1/2 days old and having spent 2 1/2 days at home, Liam is settling in nicely. He's tried out his cradle, his swing, his Pack and Play, and his changing table. You know, just checkin' everything out to see what's what and what suits him at a particular moment. He's pretty easy-going, being at the eat/sleep/poop-pee stage of life (which I'm rapidly approaching on the other end . . . ), and is easily soothed with swaddling, swinging, jiggling or bouncing.

It took three of us to change the first poop-diaper. Stuff was spewing, oozing, spraying everywhere, and we were all laughing so hard that the task took far longer than necessary, I'm sure. It really does take a village. At least when Old Faithful and oil gushers are coming out of a tiny baby. A pity there were no extra hands to record the hilarity on the Flip Cam.

Mama's already found the favorite blanket, and Liam is perfectly happy swaddled tightly therein. We've discovered that many "newborn" clothes are made for newbies weighing 9-10lbs, instead of Liam's comfy 6 1/2, although the Gerber onesies (0-3 mos.) fit fine. However, he is quite the dapper little guy, whatever he wears.

The exercise ball that Kate used during early labor to help move things along has come in handy as a place to bounce as we hold the baby. It's a different motion than rocking or gliding, and Liam loves it. Plus, I think I might be getting a little exercise out of it.

Flowers, visitors, and gifts arrive daily, adding to the festive "Welcome Home!" atmosphere. All in all, I think GrandBoy is settling in nicely.

GrandBoy's First Day

2010-02-22T23:02:00.001-05:00

You'd think that a newborn could get a little peace and quiet after spending all those hours being squeezed out of that warm jacuzzi he lived in for almost 10 months. Not so.

Oh, the measuring and weighing and battery of tests! A guy barely drops off to sleep or has a chance to greet his many visitors, when in swoops someone to take him away to test his hearing or PKU or a photographer bounces in to take pictures. Sheesh!

Then there's the steep learning curve of how to maneuver his hands out of a tight swaddle or figure out the whole breast-feeding thing. Face it, things were a lot simpler in the mommy-jacuzzi.

But the little guy with the face of an angel and a headful of fabulous hair is a pretty smart cookie. He survived Day 1, usually in the cuddle of Mama or Daddy or GrandMary or friends who dropped by the hospital for a first glimpse at the little feller. He's catching on fast.

Which is good, because his second 24-36 hours will throw him another little curve: going home. No more nurse interruptions or hospital surroundings. It shouldn't be too hard for him to settle in to his adorable nursery, chill out in his swing or cradle, and start living the life of Liam.

You're doing great, kiddo!

Life of the party at an hour old!

2010-02-21T21:43:00.007-05:00

Liam's first visitor was friend Lindsey, who found her way to the Labor & Delivery Room right after GrandBoy was born. Bearing yellow flowers and another camera to document the recent arrival's title of "Newborn Host With the Most," girlfriend Lindsey gave new Mama someone with recent birthin' experience to share the joy with.

Thanks, Lindsey, for being a part of this special moment!

Introducing Liam Samuel Richeson

2010-02-21T13:22:00.003-05:00

He's here! Liam Samuel Richeson

February 21, 2010

12:03pm

Weight: 6lb 9oz

Length: 19 1/2"

Headful of black hair. Precious beyond belief.

Mama and Liam both healthy. Good job, Kate!

More pictures to follow! Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.

A good night's labor

2010-02-21T09:30:00.004-05:00

After a rough evening that included grunts and tears, Kate decided the pain was just too much, so around 12:30am we all headed to Piedmont Hospital. Thanks to my iPod stopwatch, I kept track of the contractions for about an hour and a half. As we raced to the hospital, all were hoping that she was dilated enough for the much-anticipated epidural to relieve the pain. And, yea!, she was!

Kate's room is fabulous #14 - larger than my apartment in NYC, and with all the comforts of home. The overnight team of nurses was wonderful, especially Christy (or Kristie?), who was with us all night. The anesthesiologist was terrific - probably the most loved guy on Floor 2 at Piedmont.

Once Kate had the pain meds, life became much better. She rested, though didn't really sleep, while I crashed on the pull-out sofa and Greg hit the floor. I didn't sleep much, off and on for a couple of hours. I got up and tended to Kate, talked, straightened the bedding, as such. We let Greg sleep.

After the 6am check-in from Christy, we had to say bye-bye to her until she comes in for her shift tonight. I took the opportunity to go back to the house to take care of the dogs, brush my teeth, change clothes, and pick up the laptop. Got back to the hospital around 9am, and now things are moving fast.

It's almost time for the Big Push. She's ready to go. Fresh bag of epidural goodness is in place. GrandBoy will make his entrance soon!

Reporting for (labor) duty

2010-02-20T20:05:00.001-05:00

Daughter is officially in labor. She hasn't slept much over the past few days, so the doc wants her to nap as much as possible (gave her some pills to help), then get up and move around when she's not catching up on sleep. Father-to-Be hasn't had much rest, either. Heck, after I got the phone call at 1:30 this morning asking if I could catch an earlier flight from NYC to ATL, I've only grabbed about 8 winks myself.

GrandBoy dutifully waited for me to hit town (yes, I caught an earlier flight), and for that, we all thank him. Now, we can get down to the business of pulling him into the world. Well, OK, I don't have any control over that, but I do have a list of duties to perform while the soon-to-be parents do the heavy lifting.

Back rubs for Kate during contractions
Special errands for Greg (oooh, mysterious!)
Keeping up with dishwashing/clothes washing
Doggie duties - feeding, etc., for four dogs
Being available when needed
Staying out of the way the rest of the time

Duty list may expand once GrandBoy hits the air. Until then, taking care of his parents is the best that I can offer.

One ringee-dingee, two ringee-dingee

2010-02-19T11:42:00.002-05:00

The telephone can be a pregnant woman's best friend or most tiresome enemy. As Daughter says, one of the benefits of being nearly due to deliver is that everyone answers your phone calls on the first ring. The downside, however, is that every call the almost-mama makes or answers is assumed to be The One.

Way back in 1983 I was still pregnant 13 days past my due date. About 4 days over that pregnancy-expiration date, I just stopped answering the phone or making phone calls. "Still pregnant?" "Have you had the baby?" "When are you going to the hospital?" I got tired of answering: Yes. No. I don't know. Those phone calls were a weary reminder that, dammit, my baby was not adhering to the schedule.

A few days ago Daughter called and the first words out of her mouth were "No, this isn't it, I'm not having the baby." Like she'd forget to let me know if she had? "Oh, yeah, we had him last Thursday. He's fine. Did I forget to call?" I assured her that she didn't have to say that to me. It would be really clear if the call was Big News.

When and if she has to call hubby or me for a ride to the hospital, I think it will be obvious. Either: "It's time, let's go!" or "Heeee-heeee-hoooo-hoooo-heeee-heeee . . . " (the old breathing technique, don't ya' know).

News travels much faster and broader than it did in 1983. Kate's dad called his side of the family. My mother called our side of the family. Whoever got the phone calls was expected to pass the news along the line to everyone else. For other folks, they just had to wait for the birth announcement to come in the mail.

We'll still use the telephone for immediate family. But almost as soon as the phone calls happen, the news will start speading via email, blogs, Twitter and Facebook. Snail-mail birth announcements will go out in a timely fashion, but most folks will have heard the news by then.

The tiresome-telephone phase will stop as soon as GrandBoy makes his grand entrance. But for now, the phone is just another reminder that it hasn't happened yet.

For my part, I'd just like to thank GrandBoy for hanging on until GrandMary can get to Atlanta. I leave early tomorrow morning. Once I land, son, you can come anytime. Then we'll put that telephone to good use.

Tiger-Water Boy or Tiger-Fish Boy?

2010-02-14T19:15:00.004-05:00

I'm not much of a horoscope follower, but there's been some speculation in the family about whether GrandBoy will be an Aquarian like his dad or a Pisces like, well, like I don't know who. (Mama-to-Be and GrandMary are both Taureans - soooo full o' bull.) Anyway, if he gets here by February 19th, we'll have a little Water-Bearer. After that, he'll be our little Fish.

But whether a water-boy or fish-boy, according to Chinese astrology, he'll be a little Tiger (the animal, not the skirt-chasin' golfer). Bravery, competitiveness, and unpredictability are traits of all born in the Year of the Tiger. They're born leaders, intelligent, and always on the alert.

To clarify even more, 2010 babies are "Metal Tigers," as opposed to Water, Wood, Fire, or Earth Tigers born in other feline years. Metal Tigers are assertive and sharp and tend to jump to conclusions. Not sure how a Metal Tiger personality gets on with an Aquarian water-bearer or Pisces fish element, but we'll just have to wait and see.

Who knows how all this stuff lines up with the moon and the stars? In the Chinese Zodiac, Mama is a Boar, Daddy is a Goat, and GrandMary a Rabbit. Water-Bearers and Bulls and Fish and Tigers, Goats, Boars, and Rabbits. Quite a menagerie. With water involved. Only time will tell if all these signs and elements can co-exist in relative peace.

So, little Tiger-Boy, we're looking forward to your brave, intelligent, unpredictability, whether you're carrying water or swimming in the deep blue sea.

My little one, little one

2010-02-12T12:21:00.003-05:00

I'm very weepy today. I keep humming that great Harry Belefonte/Alan Greene/Malvina Reynolds song that became famous as a Kodak commercial.

Where are you going, my little one, little one?
Where are you going, my baby, my own?
Turn around and you're two,
Turn around and you're four,
Turn around and you're a young girl
Going out of the door.

There's more, of course. I'm working on a little "Turn Around" project, which I'll share on the blog when I'm finished, but for now this will have to do. Believe it or not, this is the only baby picture of Kate (her baptism) I have with me in NY. She has all of her baby albums, with pictures I must scan into my computer while I'm in Atlanta.

Anyway, it's not just the song that's set me off. As we get closer to her delivery date, I can't help but think that sweet, tiny little girl, born on a glorious day in May, is about to have a babe of her own.

I don't have a son, but I can't help but think that the mama's (soon to be grandmama's) experience of a daughter giving birth is a uniquely emotional one. This has no bearing whatsoever on the gandbabe in question - all the babies are dearly loved. But traveling through preganancy and childbirth with the woman you carried and gave birth to is a powerful thing.

I never for an instant forget what Kate was like as a newborn . . . as a toddler . . . as a spirited little girl. She's still all those things - a look, a laugh, a gesture is often the mirror of her much younger self.

And now she's going through with GrandBoy what I went through with her.

Turn around and you're a young wife with babes of your own.

The Waiting Game

2010-02-11T12:50:00.001-05:00

Any news? That's the #1 question I'm asked these days. GrandBoy's not officially due until February 22, but he's dropped into position and could come any time now. Daughter says one of the benefits of being close to delivery is that everybody answers her phone calls on the first ring.

I'm hoping Baby Boy holds on until the afternoon of the 20th. That's the date of my plane ticket to Atlanta, and my pocketbook would appreciate not having to cough up the extra dough to change it. But I am ready to head South as soon as I get the call. I live in great hope that neither LaGuardia nor Atlanta airports are having weather issues when that call comes.

Ever hopeful that Daughter makes it to her next doctor's appointment on Tuesday the 16th, we should have more delivery option information after the doc sees her. Yes, she can go any time, but Mr. Liam may feel he needs to cook another week or so. Or he could be like his mama and just want to stay put for as long as possible before the Induction Police arrive. Just making the appointment to be induced was enough to let his mama know that the jig was up, and she had to come on out. She made her appearance two days before that appointment came to fruition. ("Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'. I'm comin'.")

My feeling is that GrandBoy just wants his GrandMary to save that extra flight-change money so that she can spend it on something cooler - like whatever shiny new thing catches his fancy. Maybe.

Till I get the call - that I'll answer on the first ring, from Daughter or Son-in-Law heading for the hospital - I'm playing the waiting game.

And the countdown begins

2010-02-02T13:55:00.001-05:00

Now that the calendar says February, we're taking bets on when GrandBoy will make his appearance. The due date is the 22nd, but after Kate's visit to the doctor this morning, any time between now and the end of the month is feasible. She's having contractions, but not the hurtin' kind, and the baby has dropped over the past few days.

I'm thinking the week of the 15th, though my ticket home is on the 20th, and if the little bugger could hold out till then, I'd be grateful (though Mama might not be).

Watch this space for updates!

Choosing a name

2010-02-02T10:20:00.001-05:00

No, not the baby's. I'm talking about my "grand" moniker. Well, let's look at some choices, shall we? I guess if I'm boring, I could be BlandMa. In trouble? BannedMa. At the beach? SandMa or TannedMa. No, none of those work. I think the word "ma" is the problem (yeah, like "banned" isn't?). "Ma" sounds old to me. Run-down. Sleeves rolled up, doing the washing by hand. Hold that thought.

"Grand" is fine, but "fabulous" is better. Alas, "FabMa" doesn't roll trippingly off the tongue. UberMa sounds too controlling. Most Excellent Ma sounds, well, not very Southern. OK, let's stick with "Grand" and hope I can live up to it.

Of course I could abandon "grand" and "ma" altogether. We already have a "Nana" and a "Gigi" in the family, so those are out. (First come, first served on grandparent names.) I'm not the Mimi-type. MeeMaw, Gommy, Nonni? Er, no. OK, back to "Grand."

Time for a confession. Kate and I decided my grandparent name when she was 9 or 10 and in her American Girls doll-phase. Kate's first American Girl doll was Samantha. We loved reading the books that told her turn-of-the-century story. It was in those stories that we found my grandmother name. Samantha was an orphan who lived with her grandmother . . . wait for it . . . Grandmary. Bingo! Perfect name. Of course, it really helps if your name is Mary, as mine is. Grandmary probably wouldn't work for, say, a Susan or a Tiffany.

So, forget the "ma" and "Mimi" and "Gummy." I'm going with Grandmary. Now, let's see how the grandbabies actually pronouce it! But, as the saying goes, I don't care what they call me, as long as they don't call me late for supper. But they'd better not forget to call at all.

Grabbing onto the the techno-grapevine

2010-02-01T13:28:00.002-05:00

As a very proud, soon-to-be grandmother (OK, the term "grandmother" still causes me to wince a little), I'm trying to come up with the fastest and easiest way to get the word out when GrandBoy makes his appearance this month. Of course, Ma and Pa will send out the official, printed birth announcements, but this old lady has a lot of friends to whom she'd like to herald the good news in a less formal way. (Formal usually equals a gift of some kind, right?)

Now, the family will get phone calls, of course, with email back-up. Hospital pictures will fly back and forth, as well.

But friends and co-workers don't need or expect a phone call. So I'm thinking the best way to notify my pals is via an email birth announcement. Is this a tacky idea? I hope not, because in this day and age, email is usually the quickest, most reliable form of communication other than a phone call. I trust there are some cute, FREE designs out there that I can grab online.

Has anyone done this? Recommendations? Just looking for the best way to broadcast the glad tidings when the time comes.

Internet Grandparenting

2010-01-30T10:15:00.002-05:00

I think now is the perfect time to be a grandparent. Thanks to the internet, Skype, social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter, Flip cameras - well, we have all sorts of goodies at our disposal for connecting with children and grandchildren or learning from the vast amount of grandparent-wisdom that's alive and well in the world today.

Back in the fall I had two friends who were on grandbaby-watch the same weekend, one in New York and one in Alabama. Since both friends are on Facebook and had the clarity to send up regular status updates, I could follow what was going on in real time - when the daughters got to the hospital, how the labor was going, and when the little angels were born. It was wonderful and exciting to share in these two joyful experiences.

Those of us who live far away from our children really appreciate the connection that technology affords. Lil Sis, who live in California, keeps in touch with her granddaughters in Georgia via Skype. I think the grandkids even call the computer "Nana." I'm looking forward to hooking up a webcam and jumping on the Skype bandwagon, too, since I'm in New York City and the grandbaby's in Atlanta.

Another friend led me to Grandparents.com, a treasure trove of information, advice, and stories. Why reinvent the wheel, eh? We no longer live in a world where grannies sit around with each other knitting and baking cakes (though many of us do knit and bake). Websites like Grandparents.com serve as a good source of trusted advice when you don't live close to your circle of friends.

And the little Flip Camera is just fabulous. I got Daughter and her Hubby one for Christmas (thanks to a great deal on an HD model at Amazon), and we've enjoyed practicing with it during showers and family visits in anticipation of when its little memory card will be filled with GrandBoy video. The video can go right to the computer or TV.

If you know of more great grandparenting websites, blogs, or tekkie-toys, let me know. I'd love to build a good resource list here.

Post-showers nursery update

2010-01-30T09:28:00.001-05:00

Blankets and gizmos and wall art and toys - all the things that make a nursery cozy! After the baby showers, ma- and pa-to-be, got busy decorating. See how lovely? It's all coming together, so Little Mama can rest easy. Her babe will have all the necessities in case he makes an early appearance.

Liam-to-be, you are such a lucky little feller! So much love from your family and friends has gone into welcoming you into the world. The gifts they've brought are just a little reminder of all that love.