Celebrating Chicago Style

Breaking and Entering 101

Someone special celebrated her 8th birthday last weekend!  We were a few weeks late with the party, so we had to do it up right!  And we did!  Bella and I joined Uncle Corey in the city for our version of Planes, Trains and Automobiles - less the planes and add a bike taxi instead.  The driver of the bike taxi joined the Lion's International Parade while cutting through to reach our intended destination.  Bella, of course, had the royal wave down - our lioness princess.

The Bean!

On Friday night Bella and I took the train to our awaiting chariot (Uncle Corey's car).  We dined on cheesy bread and pizza, followed by peanut butter ice cream.  Yum!  With full tummies and heavy eyes, we eventually made our way to bed.  For the record, Bella does not kick and snore like her older brother (yeah!!!).  Her stuffed animal, however, does tend to wander off during the night.  She contends that I stole the covers.  Seems like a fair trade - puppy found, covers lost.  All is in balance in the world.

Goofing around

After an early morning trip to the coffee shop, we made our way to Millennium Park and the "Bean" - one of my favorite Chicago locals - and then to adjoining Maggie Daily Park.  We walked, and walked, and walked some more.  Bella was a trooper, even when she was certain she couldn't make it another step.

The Grand Finale

At the appointed hour on Saturday afternoon, we made it to the stated object of our Chicago adventure.  Sitting in the front row of the first balcony, we saw Aladdin - Bella's first live play/musical.  It did not disappoint!  The sets were spectacular, the Genie was magical, and Princess Jasmine was beautiful.  Jasmine and Aladdin were a magical couple, especially when they rode the magic carpet.  Fun stuff!

There was a bit more walking before Bella and this Granma caught a train back to the 'burbs.  Even one of our fellow riders commented that she could tell from our conversation and general goofiness we had a wonderful trip in the city.  She was absolutely right!

Happy, happy birthday, my Bella!  I hope you still remember your 8th when you are 80!  I know I will, but then, I'm a bit closer to 80 than you are.  And by the time I delivered my grandgirlie home and crashed on my own couch, I felt closer to 80 than ever!  What a great feeling - and a great night's sleep, without a single wandering puppy to locate.

Gimme S'more!

Warmer weather when family gathers: there are so many reasons to love that!  First of all, with apologies to the neighbors, the action tends to move outside - and the voices.  No longer is heard the admonishment, "Inside voices."  Ironically, those two words are exclusively issued by those over 5' tall while using their outside voices.  Those directions must be in the parenting handbook, because we have all done it at one time or a hundred.

Happy Tyler, sticky fingers

I know Memorial Day is still a couple of weeks away, but the beautiful late spring weather has also brought with it the summer menu: hot dogs, hamburgers, chips and watermelon.  Even after eating to our heart's content and our bellies bulging, there is always room for s'mores!  

Our pyrotechnic heroes

So it was that Bryce and I found ourselves at the grocery store the other day to purchase the final ingredients for a well-rounded  and complete summer meal.  As we walked across the front of the store, I had my eyes up reading the aisle labels for candy, marshmallows and graham crackers.  Bryce, on the other hand, looked straight ahead and pointed out the end-cap display with all three items from our list.  I love that kid!  BTW, marshmallow and graham cracker packaging both come with directions for making s'mores.  We, the Harrises, contend, however, that if you need directions to make the gooiest of all summer treats, you skipped too many years of childhood to ever recover the true joy of the process.

Grampa got the fire going with help from Bryce and Bella. Lessons in Fire 101.  As you can see, everyone was taking is seriously - or seriously enough not to be a danger to themselves or the neighbors or the house - a successful blaze.

Next came the age old debate: light the fluffy sugar and burn it to a cinder or carefully coax it to the perfect golden brown.  You may be able to guess which side of the debate registers my vote.  But among the gathered, it was a draw.  I contend that the cinder people are just too impatient to do it properly.  But what do I care, mine are perfectly roasted, melted goodness.  I don't allow anyone else to prepare my marshmallows.  In case you were wondering, none of the packaging weighed in on the correct proportions of fire to sugar.  One more reason a recipe is absolutely unnecessary.

There is only one thing that would have made those messy harbingers of summer even better: homemade marshmallows.  Oh, yes, it is possible to make your own marshmallows and they are truly amazing!  I have promised them for our next batch of s'mores!  Oh, YUM!

Pinterest to the Rescue?

Hello, my name is Granma, and I'm a Pinterest junkie...  There isn't anything you can't find there with a simple search.  While looking for quilt ideas, I found a paper bowl bird feeder (complete with Fruit Loop embellished hanging strings).  Searching for science experiments, I came across elephant toothpaste.  It's a whole website of dreams!  Someone dreamed it up and made it happen and put it online for the rest of us to peruse.  And when one believes in the dream and their ability to recreate said magical creation, go at it with gusto!  Sadly, some perfectly executed online dreams turn into our nightmares.  And when that happens, we are generally out a few art "supplies," but have gained a great story!  Sometimes, even when the dream works pleasantly enough, the story is still better than the final product.  Here's hoping that happens with today's blog...

Easter is coming, and so were the three eldest grandloves:  Bryce, Bella and Tyler.  Rainy weekend that it was, Easter egg coloring seemed a good idea.  Perhaps I should have stopped there, but, no, I proceeded to Pinterest.  Did you know you can color Easter eggs with shaving cream and food coloring?  In hindsight, I realize that half a good idea was just then gathering steam and rolling down the mountain at break-neck speed.  It did occur to me that if the Pin was a fail, I might need a plan B before an egg fight broke out in my dining room. The eggs were hard boiled, so the mess would not have been overwhelming.  Shaving cream, on the other hand....  I'm running ahead of myself.

Watchfully assuring that the shaving cream spout was aimed in the proper direction, ditto for the food coloring, and we were, I hoped, on our way to a successful pin!  To a base of shaving cream, we added drops of food coloring, lightly mixed by running a toothpick through the fluffy, gentlemanly-smelling whiteness.


Now to roll the egg in the prepared lather.  Not for the squeamish - not that anyone objected, mind you.  Upon successfully coating the eggs, the grandloves rolled their hands in the same mixture.  This picture of Bryce's fingers is just for show.  All thoughts of contemporaneous photo-documenting disappeared when the first, second and third set of goopy hands (fronts and backs) came bounding my direction.


The eggs rested in their lather for 10 or 15 minutes while hands were washed - and the table - and the sink - and Tyler's shirt (which miraculously came completely clean).  Tyler and Bella returned to Legos while Bryce and I considered how to get the goop off the eggs.  Half a roll of paper towels later, we had a beautiful bowl of Easter eggs!  We were all quite impressed with our success!  And just to prove our efforts were genuine, the grands took a bonus piece of the project home with them, safely embedded in their fingerprints and palms and nails.

Dear Pinterest, Might I suggest plastic gloves?  Unless, that is, Easter hands are now an "in" thing.  And next time we will try Cool-Whip rather than shaving cream, opting for improved smell and taste while still maintaining texture.  It might result in Easter mouths and noses to match our fingers.  We'll let you know - next year...

21st Century Love Letters

I was wondering what the post would be for today - an all too common Monday night occurance in this corner of the world - when lightening struck.  Not an actual 1.2 gigiwatts of power, for those of you old enough to remember when "Back to the Future" was predicting a year yet into the future.  My reference to "lightening" was electrical, none the less.  That is, I received a text from my grandgirlie, Bella!

Bella received an iPod from Santa.  She can't make phone calls, but she can text!  And I am the happy receipient of the electronic media.  Part vocabulary and more emoticon, we conversed.  Side note;  I was well into my 50s before I even heard the word "emoticon."  Just a couple of months ago my 5-year-old grandboy commented on a picture of another grandboy with a mylar baloon.  He asked why Josiah had an emoticon.  Silly me.  I thought it was a "smiley face" floating above him.  This Granma is a techno-flop.

Back to Bella and the "conversation" at hand.  It started with, "I just got back from school for today.  emoticon, emoticon, emoticon"  Picture a high five, backpack and stack of books.  (A more tech-savvy Granma would actually show you those picture.  Sorry, you just get words...)  We proceeded through dinner plans, Skopkins, YouTube, snow, and Grampa.  It was a very involved and inspired conversation, as you can see - in part.  We ended when she actually had to eat.  No texting at the table - a rule I whole-heartedly endorse.  Afterall, I was never allowed to text at the table when I was a kid...

OK.  So I'm dragging myself into the 21st century, not altogether unwillingly, just sometimes reaching the far edges of the stretch-ability of my mind.  But there is one nagging question that defies a satisfactory answer:  why is Bella's selfy so cute, even when she is goofy?  And I am so goofy, no matter how I try?  I think I need a stylist - or a new nose...or lessons from a grandgirlie...

However, I think I'm doing pretty well at the heart emoticons, even if I don't vary them as well as my Bella.  I mean every electronic heart of them!

Christmas Magic

There are some special "grands" Christmas memories.

Last year was one of them.  Holding two precious baby girles, home from the hospital, but still tethered to oxygen.  How sweet that was!  This year, holding them is much more difficult - they want to be down and moving, especially Faith.  She gyrates in your arms, demanding the freedom of the floor.  What a wonderful, miraculous, welcome change!

Bella's first Christmas with us was last year, too.  She arrived walking and talking, of course.  She and I made ornaments to decorate the tree, dancing snowmen and gingerbread men and women.  We started out following the directions.  We ended up with a whole village of our creations - no two the same.

A dozen Christmases ago, was Bryce's first, all six weeks old of him.  I was still trying on the name 'Granma,' and hadn't settled on the spelling yet.  But I certainly had settled on Bryce!  He has sparkled on Christmas every year since.  I'm looking forward to some boardgames with him this Christmas.


Tyler was almost a year old by the time his first Christmas arrived.  Older and wiser, he enjoyed all the gifts, especially the wrapping and bows.  I love to watch the world through his eyes, which haven't lost the wonder of expectation.

Elijah slept through much of his first Christmas, a mistake he won't make again, I'm sure!  Being grandboy number five at the time, the pack-and-play was a safe location for him, while the rest of the world spun out of control with laughter and bits of colorful confetti raining down.

But my favorite grandboy Christmas memory is the year Aidan learned to blow out the Christmas tree!  He walked into the house, straight up to the tree and started blowing.  The behavior seemed a bit odd, quite frankly, two-year-old adorable, but odd.  Court and Christine let us know that we should stand at the ready by the light switch that controlled the outlet to the tree lights.  We were a quick study.  The lights went off (or back on) with each watery blow from his lips.

My next favorite memory is too intertwined to be a separate memory, though it happened two years later.  Aidan was then in control of the light switch for two-year-old Josiah.  His younger brother would giggle with delight that started at his toes.  Aidan, sharing in the joy, joined a duet with the shear joy of toddler laughter!

I can't wait for Christmas!  I wait expectantly with the joy of a toddler for the gathering of the red and green grands!  Merry Christmas, everyone!  And merry memories in the making!

Can You Hear Me Now?

I, like many of you, grew up with tethered phones.  Short of a tornado that took your whole house, you never lost your phone.  You also didn't leave messages for people, because unless you were calling a doctor who paid a service to answer their phones after hours, there was no voice mail.  When we dialed the phone, we actually dialed the phone.  How many millennials use that term without the slightest idea that originally it was a literal description?  And, oh, if you wanted to know who was on the other end of a ringing phone, you had to pick up the receiver and ask.  BTW, if someone was actually away from the house, say living life or something, the phone went unanswered.  How did we get by in those dark ages?

I'm not really pining after those bygone days, but there was something kind of nice about not being instantly available to anyone and everyone.  Of course, if you ask my kids, they will tell you that I am really bad at keeping my phone on my person.  The rebellion of mid-century, middle child...

I am blessed to live within 20 minutes of all of my grandboys and girlies, meaning I don't have to spend a lot of time talking to them on the phone.  This is probably a really good thing, for reasons that aren't necessarily 21st century.

Under the best of circumstances, toddler speak can be difficult to interpret.  Frequently, the conversation is easiest to follow while chasing after the wee one to see what he sees.  At least it gives you context and a fighting chance to follow his unique stream of consciousness and foreign sounding phrases.  Even when you are two feet from him, he's too much a busy body to actually sit still, face you and speak.  This multi-directional speak is exacerbated with a phone that never moves in sync with the miniature among us.

Additionally, as it was a lifetime ago, it is still difficult to hear when a child shakes his head.  Of course, there is Facetime, which my lovely grandgirlie, Bella, employed first thing in the morning on my recent birthday.  What a sweet, sweet start to my day.  She might not agree, as she got to see me still in my jammies, hair and makeup still on my "to do" list.  And that little picture in the upper corner that shows me how I look to the other person mocks me!  Why can I never hold the phone so my nose doesn't fill the screen?  Most of the time I rather like my nose - except when Apple gets a hold of it...

The other day, Josiah and Elijah were fighting over the "phone."  Granma to the rescue - I found an additional phone not currently in use.  Yep, they were both calculators.  At least I didn't have to worry about them buying an unauthorized app...

The best part about the phones of today is that grandones are the best teachers.  All too often I hear myself saying, "Hey, how did you do that?"  With a shrug that says 'she's old - I'll have pity,' they let me in on Apple's best kept secrets.

Just reaching out to touch someone.  Now THAT dates me!

The Parade of Halloween

Colin circa 1991

I'm not a major Halloween fanatic.  Well, I was when I was little.  Nothing like a sugar coma that can last for weeks. At some point, though, I realized that since Reese's come in two packs, it was far easier and almost as attractive to simply apply one to each hip.  Sigh.

As I kid, I would spend weeks leading up to the fall fest planning what to wear - AND gathering the parts and making the costume.  I have never worn a "store-bought" costume.  They probably weren't as prevalent when I was a child, but I don't remember lusting after them.  I kind of felt sorry for the poor kids whose parent's couldn't create a costume designed by the heart's desire.

When my boys were in the trick-or-treat age span, they never wore "store-bought" costumes, either.  I enjoyed creating whatever they wanted to be.  In their youngest years, of course, I was able to guide their requests based on ideas and props I had on hand.  There were lions and tigers, crayons and pumpkins, baseball players and maffiosa. In later years, they put me to the test. One year Colin was a baseball.  Another year Corey was a baseball card.  Court made an adorable T-Rex.  But if there is one contume that stands out among the many, it was the year that Colin decided he wanted to be a milk carton.  It seemed an odd request, but not an impossible one.  And, hey, he works in the grocery business now, so maybe it was just foreshadowing...

I thought my costume creating days were over.  Let's face it, now the store-bought can be pretty impressive - expensive, but elaborate.  This Halloween, though, I got "the call!"  I didn't even know I was missing the call, until it came:  costumes for Bryce, Tyler and Bella.  Bryce wanted to be a Pokeball (which I contend looks like a bobber.  I think his father should dress as a fish.  Just a thought.).  Tyler is Mike Wazowski (I'm hoping you guessed that from the picture).  And Bella, well, she is a Southern Bell(a), of course.  Unfortunately, she wasn't available to model for this picture.

So, Happy Halloween, everyone!  Not spooks and goblins, but fun and imagination... and candy!!!

Fingers and Toes

There are things that happen when a child is born - things that are seared into your whole being and can never be forgotten.  Perhaps after a few decades they have taken on a life of their own - larger than life almost, in the form of a teeny, tiny perfectly formed being.  There is the first cry of a newborn, so familiar but so unique.  And seeing as newborn tear ducts don't produce tears yet, his parents supply them - happy tears, startled tears, overwhelming overwhelmed tears.  There are snuggles and sighs from the two generations immediately represented, but it doesn't stop there.  Now I know what Granma laughing tears feel like as well.

There are the comparisons - mouth and eyes and nose - as they relate to Mom and Dad and siblings.  There is the straining to see similarities that won't truly develop for years to come, but the start is there, or so we imagine.

I'm a finger and toes person, myself.  Curled up, wrinkly toes and long slender fingers with perfectly formed nails.  It's a little slice of heaven on earth to watch those tiny digits relax in sleep, allowing a really good look at the newest family member.  Babies are wonderful.  Birth is a miracle!

There are two sets of 10 perfectly forms grand digits in the family that I never got to view in miniature.  They belong to my Bella.  Of course, there were many who teared up at her birth.  Hours spent reveling in the beauty of her delicate features from her earliest days.  But I wasn't one of them.  Bella didn't burst into my world until she was five.  She is seven now.

Just last week, though, I got to do something I would have done naturally if we had met seven years earlier - I got to study her fingers.  And I got to do something that I have never done before:  I painted another person's fingernails!  I'm not particularly good at painting my own nails, but at least I know when to expect a zig or a zag in my movements and correct the angle of the brush accordingly.  Bella and I are not quite so symbiotic.  What I lacked in accuracy, I did my best to wipe off with my own finger and nail.  In the end, we admired ten near perfect and 100% adequately pink trimmed fingers.  There were also spots of pink on a paper towel, my fingers and Bella's knee.  Bella gets credit for the latter.

I got to really study her hands up close and personal for the first time.  They are perfectly formed and quite expressive (hence, in part, the splatters of pink in the various locations).  I didn't cry.  Nor did she.  In fact, there was much laughter.  I think that means the manicure was a success!  It was for me, anyway, though I don't see a career change coming my way.

I didn't get a picture of those 10 perfect fingers, pretty in pink.  And the toe model above belong to a grandboy of mine.  But look at her fingers.  Even without paint, they are indeed perfect!  I love you, Bella!

When is a Family Born?

There is nothing like witnessing the birth of a baby.  I've witnessed it three time, and my full attention was on the birth, but not necessarily on the baby at the exact moment he entered the world.  Though two seconds after the fact, the baby was all that mattered.  It's a magical time, absolutely!  But is that when a family is born?

I've been to my share of weddings, too, in various capacities.  The one I might remember the least is the one in which I played a starring role.  That was a blur of happy, but the specifics are mostly in snapshots, captured by another's eye and then reproduced for my benefit.  I remember more of the feeling than the specific, and that's good enough!  Certainly that was the birth of a family, a small one that would later grow into something wild and wonderful.

But last Saturday I got to witness the birth of a family in a whole new way.  It's not that it's never been done before - it's actually quite frequent.  I might have even been present at such a celebration before, though I can't call it to mind (I'm blaming it on being a Granma, and I'll leave it at that.)  On Saturday, though, Emma became Mrs. Colin Harris, and included in the union were Bryce and Tyler gaining another Mom and Bella gaining a Dad.  The steps to being "steps" had been in the works for a couple of years, but Saturday made it official.

Amidst all the planning for flowers and photographs and food, and the wearing of white and matchy-matchy guy clothes, included in the guest list and highlighted by their position of honor at the front and center, was a new family - five strong - five hearts beating each for the other.

Now, I'm old, and sometime purposely senile (when it suits me), but I'm not such a fool as to think that the new family of five will live happily ever after with never a cross word or hurt feelings or overblown jealousy between them.  Seriously, who would want a family like that anyway - where is the sport in that?!  However, Colin, Emma, Bryce, Bella and Tyler are now tied together irrevocably, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, as long as any one of them continues to draw breath, and likely even long after that.

It's a high and holy thing to witness the birth of a family, whether twins or in this case quints appear.  And it's worthy of a celebration, which also appeared and didn't disappoint.

Happy wedding, happy new life to the newest Harris family!  Love multiplied once again - by a factor of FIVE!

Friends and Countrymen, Lend Me Your Ears!

Naomi - with room to grow

Faith - Pretty in Pink

With all good intentions, I promise this will be the last Disney post.  Meaning - I will not be held responsible if sentence #1 turns out to be an outright lie...  But this post is a must, cuz there is much cuteness to be displayed!

Before leaving to Florida, I spent some time mulling over what gift to bring Illinois bound grandbabies from the land of Mickey.  The possibilities are endless, of course, in the land of the world's largest souvenir stand:  t-shirts, toys, stuffed animals, to name the most conventional.  The mouse, of course, doesn't stop there, but I did - until...  Merry suggested bringing back ears for all the mini-folk!  Perfect!

Bella - My Bell!

Aidan - Lightening McQueen

So between Space Mountain and Soarin' we four travelers embarked on the great ear hunt.  Finding ears was not the problem - they were EVERYWHERE, including the heads of most of our new best friends and mouseketeers.  Total non-sequitur: while trying to figure out how to spell mouseketeers it occurred to my typing fingers that it could be "mouse-cat-ears" - a shout out to Tom and Jerry, I suppose.

Anyway, mouse ears come with glitz and glitter and in Army drab.  There are bride and groom ears, princess ears, Star Wars ears, Winnie-the-Pooh ears (which kind of defied imagination),  Lightening McQueen ears, under the sea ears...  You get the drift.

Tyler - Scorcerer

Josiah - Goofy

Not feeling the need to start collections of our own, Merry and I brought our "vintage" ears from a previous trip and paraded them around.  Bryce chose the R2D2 ears for himself and Ava's ears lit up - and flashed in time to the music at various attractions as well as being timed to the fireworks.

But really, how adorable are the Illinois mouseketeers!  It would have been nice to get all those ears in one picture.  It was suggested.  However, we all know how mice tend to scatter when you try to catch them.  I would say that Mickey has that affect on the mini ones.  In truth, it's also the nature of grandbabies.  I am settling for assembling them in this blog.  It's the easiest way to get them to sit still!

Elijah - Mickey!

Thank you to Mickey for the additional set of ears each.  I'm sure it will have a great affect on their listening skills, too!  As long as they can hear "I love you" - that's all that really matters!

Happy Birthday to Her!

I missed her first - and second.  As a matter of fact, I missed her third, fourth and fifth birthdays, too.  But I was there for the sixth, and the seventh arrives later this week!  My eldest and first grandgirlie!  Miss Bella!!!

Bella can light up any room.  Actually, she can boss a room around pretty effectively, too - though quite nicely, I might add.  She LOVES little cousins!  And they follow her like the pied piper that she is!  She is pink and purple and lipstick and Barbies.  In other words, a foreigner in these parts and a welcome one.

Then again, she is also the master at going cross-eyed, and she certainly doesn't shy away from water fights and goopy stuff and being one of the boys. (I''m so disappointed I can't find the picture of my cross-eyed beauty!  It does exist!)

You know the hardest - and best - part about having a grandgirlie like Bella?  I have to figure out what to get her for her birthday.  So far, I've figured out nothing with wheels, or superheros, or guns.  What does that leave?  I think I need a trip to Toys-R-Us - and Fast!!!

I love you, Bella!  Happy Birthday!

Rite of Passage

There are just some things that girls do for no other reason than their chromosome make up.  Actually, make up is one of those things.  Another is giggling uncontrollably for no apparent reason at inappropriate times.  Once Ginger, my sister, and I were sitting in the balcony of the church watching our father perform his minister-ly duties.  We started giggle over the great vantage point we had of the bald spot forming in the back of his head.  Nothing could stop us - not the looks of those sitting beside us or the pointed glance of our father.  Not even the tears running down our faces.  What finally stopped us was the benediction.  Once we didn't have to stifle our laughter, it dissipated.  Girls.  Back to the train of thought at hand.

Another thing girls do is showers: bridal and baby, generally.  In modern times the groom is also extended an invitation to bridal showers.  Poor guy.  The lone bastion of testosterone in an otherwise giggly, made-up room.  It's not exactly like he could refuse the invitation.  So he makes the best of it with a room full of women - one of his former fantasies come to think of it.

This past weekend, we had a shower for Colin (eldest son of mine) and his intended, Emma.  (We can't wait to hear the I do's in July!!!  Awesome choice, son!)  It entailed all the requisite shower material: flowers, food and festivities, giggles, gifts and gabbing.  (I'm a fan of alliteration, can you tell?)  But more to the point, all three of my grandgirlies were in attendance!  That is Bella on the left helping her mom with the gifts.  Christine is standing behind holding Faith, and I am seated with Naomi.  Could be the other way around - Christine with Naomi and me with Faith.  Hard to tell from here.  (Colin looks a bit unfamiliar with the protocol, doesn't he?  It's enough to make me giggle, again!)

Regardless, this is a sign post of an era, I think:  the adult-ish ME doing something with my female relatives of younger generations!  Ah, pink!  To gather with so many women that I love with every fiber of my being - five are with me in this picture alone!

Here's to a new era of showers and the women who attend.  Much love to each and every one!

The Games People Play

 We play games - some of them good, some of them devious, some of them human, and some of them on a board.  Can't help it, we are a normal family.  If you don't do all of the above, you don't meet our definition of "normal", which might or might not actually be normal - if you know what I mean...

Bella has recently discovered Monopoly Junior - I hear she is kicking behinds and taking names.  I also hear she is learning about how to lose - gracefully, I hope.  You win some, you lose some.  That truth cannot be altered - on the board or in life.  (My philosophy for the day.)

Bryce has dropped the Junior moniker for his brand of Monopoly.  He goes for the real stuff.  It was quite the transition, actually:  from a 20 minute game to a 2 hour game - from a wink-wink "sure that's a six" to "yeah, I can count, too".  In the Harris household, if you want to play an adult game, you have to play by adult rules.  Credit to Bryce, he wanted to graduate to the "real" game.  Sometimes he wins, sometimes he loses.  (Though last time I played him, I trounced!  Right, Emma?)

Then there is Tyler with a Simpson's chess set.  He wanted to join in the fun - a grandboy/Granma game.  Tyler has his own set of rules (you get to make those at age 5).  First of all, he got five pieces - Homer, Grandpa, Bart, Bart and Bart - verses my two - Lisa and Marge.  The games was strictly along gender guideline.  I tried to insert Maggie, but it led to the exclusion of Marge.  Tyler rules - go figure.  In the end, Spider Man won.  Again, Tyler rules - go figure.

We also play Tenzi, generally with 10 dice each.  However, some hands are not big enough to hold them all.  They get 5.  Super Man won (read Tyler).  Bryce and I fought it out for second.  I think Bryce won.  The scoring wasn't kept that accurately, but I'll admit defeat.

So if you come to our house for a family gathering, you should be prepared to participate in several things:  food, comradery, noise, chaos and a board game.  Don't expect mercy - once you hit double digits, we offer none.  Just ask Bryce...

They Don't Call Me Granma for Nothing!

Last summer, Aidan and I had a birthday conversation.  His special day was coming up, which of course is a hot topic.  His natural curiosity lead him to inquire of my age as well.  What harm could it do to tell the truth.  55, I told him.  He reminds me of that conversation frequently, generously and correctly adding another year in November.  Sweet as his reminder is, there are other things that remind me of the half century that separates our births.  Put that way, I'm feeling older than ever!  Sigh.  Let's call it nostalgia.  For instance:

• No grandchild of mine would have the slightest idea what to do with a car's crank window.
• Their Granma will never figure out video controls.  I could use arthritis as an excuse, but that only makes me sound older and has nothing to do with the fact that A-Up-Up-Left-B-enter are not directions my fingers could have followed at any stage of joint functioning.
• "Do it again!" is music to my ears when squealed with joy by grandboys and girles, alike.  My back, however, is not such a music lover.
• Elijah at 18 months is a professional foot photographer - and he has very cute little piggies! But what if he had to wait a week or more for the pictures to be developed?  
• Tyler would be clueless with a VCR tape.  Bryce, on the other hand, would probably figure out how to tie him up with it.
• Court and Christine run their TV through their computer.  It does indeed take a four year old to turn it on for me.  However, he still needs me for the password!
• And my personal favorite - Bella asked me what to do with that rectangular thing by the sink.  Until that moment, I hadn't noticed that bars of soap were part of a disappearing landscape.

Come to think of it, it's a rather short list, especially when compared to our common interests:

playgrounds

ice cream

bubbles

children's books

pizza

The Lego Movie

squirt guns

echos in a stairwell

play doh

cuddles

tickles

and even birthdays!

I'm feeling my age, alright, with just a slight shift of the decimal - 5.6.  Perfect!

When Fast (Thankfully) Isn't

Once, while eating a can of spinach, I thought I could do anything!  So I got my Popeye on and took three munchkins to a fast food restaurant all by myself.  First you have to get three midgets across a parking lot, something akin to playing Frogger, but with much higher stakes!  Then you have to decipher who wants what and then how to carry and corral at the same time.  After picking out the green stuff from between my teeth, I decided I rather like the role of Olive Oil instead.  I tell you this just to prove that you can teach an old Granma new tricks...

Last weekend there was a similar opportunity involving three munchkins and fast food.  I grabbed ONE grandboy (and the eldest, at that) and the food desires of the others and off we went in search of Portillos.  For those not from Chicagoland, too bad for you.  If you ever get the chance, try it!  But I digress.

Bryce was a little less than smiling when he got into the car.  His favorite game system, DS, had been denied entry into the vehicle, an unpopular and decidedly unGranma-ly dictate.  Thus the following conversation:

• How's school?    Fine.
• Still practicing violin?  Yeah
• Bet I can get an answer out of you longer than 4 letters - what day is it?  Sat (Game on!)
• What month is it?  Feb
• Bet I can get you to answer with less than 4 letters - how old are you?  Diez

Ok, I lost the bet, but it got us giggling and conversing, so I won the war.

More giggling and goofing around, a couple of bags of food and a root beer for the munchkin and we were off again.  Speaking of goofing around - what happens when you set a Styrofoam cup of root beer on a heated seat?  Nothing.  What happens when a certain smart boy tips the cup just to be sure no hole has melted into the bottom?  Root beer pours out the straw.  Oh (grand)boy.

Our return was greatly anticipated.  And by "our" I mean the french fries.  Greasy goodness divvied up, we moved on to eating.  There were stories to tell, including the one about the root beer.  There were chicken tenders to nibble into guns.  And being ever so versatile, more chicken to become a beard.  My favorite is when you ask Tyler a question he doesn't want to answer, so he doesn't.  And when you point out to him that someone asked him a question, he replies with, "I can't talk with my mouth full," or something like that.  It was hard to tell since his mouth was full...

All in all, our fast food took about an hour and a half to gather and consume.  The nutritional value that fed our bodies would turn the stomach of a dietitian.  But my soul left filled and refreshed.  And no green between my teeth.  Just call me Olive "Granma" Oil!

Stuck on You!

It started out innocently enough - some spare stickers left over from making Christmas ornaments.  One more winter creation - you know, something to do in the post holiday malaise.   The carols have ended, the ornaments are recharging for next year's season of glitter and glitz, the wrapping paper is decorating the land fill and the cookies have settled in for a long winter's nap around my mid-section.  The house has returned to its former state of normal, whatever that might entail.  But the stickers were not quite finished with their holiday cheer.  Being quite contrary, they were calling in the evening hours, and a certain grandgirlie named Bella heeded their plight.

At first the stickers and I and the one dressed in pink were content decorating paper in the grand pit (otherwise known as the basement).  There were dancing snowmen aplenty - who are, incidentally, still doing their pirouettes for the benefit of the rest of the toys.  Alas, top hats outnumbered snow heads by a factor of 10 to one, and apparently there was a blizzard of snowflakes as well.

A cold wind buffeted our stickers up the stairs were the balance of the adults had retired to warmth and comfort - and a beer and football.  We did what any responsible Granma and grandgirlie would - we followed that fair breeze to witness its effects.

Remember the story of Frosty the Snowman and how when his hat flew off he turned back into an ordinary frozen sculpture?  Well, apparently, his hat(s) have the opposite affect of huMANS, though they seem to grace huWOMANS with their most winning smiles. Colin slept through the first blizzard of 2016, like a bear in a cave or, rather, a teddy bear in a dream tunnel.

Dream sweetly, Colin, of the women in your life!  And much love to you all!