The Red Balloon

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

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!

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

The Grand Role

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

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!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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 . . .

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

Happy Valentine's Day 2011!

The Pragmatic (Grand)Parent

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:

1. Keep the child safe and healthy.
2. Raise a person who can function emotionally, intellectually, culturally, and creatively in the wider world and within the family.
3. 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

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!

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!

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

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.

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

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

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?