Back to my Roots

Clockwise: Josiah, Aidan, Tyler, Bryce & Elijah

Most of you probably realize that Tuesday comes around with great regularity.  Me, too.  But my Tuesday always starts with a Sunday evening panicked question:  what will the blog look like this week?  However, since Monday intervenes the Sunday to Tuesday sequence, I continue my day of rest...in favor of a Monday evening full panic.  Some bloggers, I understand, actually have blogs prepared ahead of time.  What a novel concept...

Sometimes between last Sunday and yesterday, I made the executive decision to go back to my roots.  We aren't talking hair, here, though I do have a haircut scheduled on Wednesday.  You are not responsible for that piece of information...  Rather, this blog started with grandboys - 5 of them.  So let's talk about that.

Tyler (6), AKA Spider Man, made an appearance on Sunday.  He is a wiry little midget, and seemingly disinterested in out growing the short label.  However, he has a totally boy way of entering the house, after calmly removing this shoes, he launches himself into my arms.  It is an endearing greeting now that I have learned to brace myself for impact.  The really amazing part is how he wraps his arms and legs around my body.  Once maximum velocity and height have been reached, he does not need me to hold him.  I, however, might need to employ the jaws of life if I need to use the facilities.

Bryce (11), on the other hand, has decided that he big enough (almost) and strong enough (almost) to pick ME up.  He will be, soon enough, but for the moment, I do not give him an assist with his efforts - except that I raise up to my tip-toes.  He isn't fooled, but then, his back is broken, either - a fair trade.

Aidan (5), employs a winning smile - between words.  He is never short of words - or topics - or energy.  I gave him a kiss the other day and asked him to pass it on to his Uncle Corey.  Aidan insisted on seven kisses - and, yes, we counted them.  I'm not sure how many of them he shared with Corey, but it made my day!

Josiah (4), oh my.  Josiah practices at ways to be silly.  Just when I reach my own personal limit and tell him to stop, he laughs - which makes me laugh - so any remote thought he had to actually heed my words and "stop" disappears into a gale of giggles.  How do you reprimand when you can't stop laughing?  Perhaps I am one of his favorite jokes.  Regardless, he wins every time.

Elijah (2), though, won the week - twice!  I showed up to watch his sisters so the rest of the family could take a train into the city to visit Uncle Corey.  I opened the door to Aidan's conversation, Josiah's giggles, and Elijah's proclamation, "I don't want to go.  I want to stay here with Granma."  How much do I love that kid!  So how did he top that?  Well, actually: he got on the train to go visit Uncle Corey.  The girls and I had a relatively quiet and very enjoyable day.

What can I say?  I love both the coming and the going!  And I love the absolute joy of being a Granma to boys!  That's my boy(s)!!!

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...

Forty and Holding

I remember quite distinctly when I was thirty-something and someone asked me how old I would be if I didn't know how old I was.  I was raising 3 boys of my own at the time and I felt like the world (or my corner of it) rested on my shoulders.  My immediate answer was "40".  That, my friends, was depressing.  It was also the epitome of an exaggerated sense of self-importance.  Obviously, I took myself WAY to seriously at thirty-something.

Bryce Then

Tyler Now

Tyler Then

Bryce Now

So, now, I'm older and wiser - haha - or pretending to be.  My answer to the same question - two decades later - is still the same.  Thirty-seven plus years of marriage, 3 sons, 5 grandboys and 3 grandgirles - I'm still 40, right?  Just say, "yes," and everyone will have a nice Valentine's Day...

For the novelty of it all, I changed the wallpaper on my computer to randomly scroll through my pictures folder (seeming non-sequitur, I know).  It continues to amuse me every time I sit down at my computer.  Sometimes I actually sit and watch the changing pictures just to see what will come up next.  What can I say?  Frequently it is more entertaining than what is on TV.

Aidan Then

Aidan Now

While watching my own private picture show, I often find myself melting:  oh, I remember that! or Which kid is that? or I want to kiss those cheeks!  Somewhere the years have melted, as well, grandboys moving from flower child to pokeball fanatic - from rock hound to super turtle - from chubby-cheeked cherub to devil-may-care independence - from would-be-scholar to junior-GQ.  And with all those changes, all those loving moments, all those kisses and tears and sighs of exasperation, isn't it remarkable that I haven't aged even a day?  Well, OK.  Maybe I'll admit to 41 now, but only if I'm feigning honesty.  I just enjoy living in my own fantasy land with these grandboys.

Josiah Then

Josiah Now

BTW, Aidan guessed I was 67 the other day.  I don't hold it against him - mostly...  I might have threatened him with an early bedtime, though, if he didn't take it back...

Hero in a Half Shell

Snips and snails and puppy dog tails, that's what little boys are made of - or so the saying goes.  It's poetic, but I'm not 100% certain I agree.  If I had to slap a label on the "boy" package, I think it would read (from greatest to smallest):  dirt, megaphone, love bunny, dinosaur, super hero, stardust, giggles and dreamer.  Poetry has never been one of my strengths, but I do know boys!

The ingredient list above is a generalization, of course, since no two boys are packaged identically.  I had one boy of my own who had more stardust than usual, one with an excess of love bunny, and one who was fully one-quarter Tyrannosaurus Rex - though all of them still had dirt as their first ingredient...  Likewise, grandboys vary slightly in proportional content.

Tyler's 6th birthday was last weekend.  You can probably tell from the picture what his predominate ingredient is.  In his case, dirt is not number one on the list, though it might be a close second.  Years ago, even while we struggled to understand his toddler-speak, he was shooting the bad guys with a rifle masquerading as a stick or Legos doubling as a gun or cardboard tube nunchaku.  Tyler, then and now, adds his own sound effects.  I would tell you what they are, but I'm not a good speller and I fear auto correct would not know what to do with my attempts.  Think "boy noises" and you will come close...

Happy birthday to my favorite hero in a half shell!  Not only is the world safe, but this Granma is secure in your love, as well.  I love you, Leonardo (blue mask - I Googled it)!  Happy Birthday!

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!

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!!!

Falling for Grandboys - Again

Except for the thermometer that registered in the 80s today, we are completely into the fall season.  The fall colors are heading toward breath-taking, though the temps in the early morning can be as well.  I love the fall, especially when I get to take grandboys to the pumpkin farm.

Growing up in rural Iowa, the only pumpkin farms I knew of were the ones in the back yard.  They did not have jumping blobs or apple cider donuts.  Actually, they had weeds - a fact that my parents pointed out to my siblings and I.  Our "play" in the pumpkin patch involved ridding it of said interlopers.  I had to move to the 'burbs of Chicago to make peace with the pumpkins.

A couple of weeks ago, grandboys #1 and 2 were in need of an outing, which was really good timing for this Granma.  We traveled westward about 20 miles to a favorite fall location of mine.  Kuipers - home of the most amazing apple cider donuts!  I have been known to make the trip all by myself, returning home with a half empty donut bag on the seat next to me.  Coincidentally, my seat belt was stretched a bit further, too, around the other half of the donuts...  Back to Bryce and Tyler...

Fresh off a sleepover at Granma's, we headed first to the jumping blob, though we had to play nice since we were not the only autumnal revelers. Then there were the water pump duck races - Bryce won.  Tyler and I had a run off for second, which I diligently tried to lose.  I lost at losing.  As it turned out, the pouting face that acknowledged defeat was only a shadow of the fun to come.

We proceeded to the slide, the spider web and the hay bale jump before wandering into the corn maze.  Just looking at the maze, all three of us had flashbacks to last year, when we got hopelessly lost among the ears.  Feeling slightly brave, but mostly realistic, we opted for the beginner's maze.  Half way into that baby maze, we backed out.  Discretion is the better part of valor.  Besides, the loud speaker told us it was time for the pig races.  Who could pass that up?  The pig nose that Bryce is sporting is proof that he backed the winning pig - Albert Einswine, as I recall.

Next came lunch and an epic Tyler melt down.  Lack of sleep, lack of blog jumping time and lack of pig nose combined to make for whine time as we waited in line.  It may have contributed to the shorter line, too - people were actively avoiding us.  Even apple cider donut promises did not stem the tide of tears.  Nor, in the long run, did it prevent donuts.  I don't threaten with fall's favorite treat!  I wouldn't want to have to make good on the threat!

In the end, it was a good trip.  Tyler brightened up and sugared up, as you can see, and I adjusted my seat belt for the trip home.  I must begrudgingly admit that fall is indeed a wonderful time of year.  And we didn't get swallowed up in the corn maze.  Success!

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!

And a Good Time was had by ALL

This is not the first blog I've written about going to the zoo.  It's not likely to be my last.  I love the zoo, though I'm not sure exactly why - it's expensive, it smells, the animals are generally either pacing or (more likely) listless, the crowds are daunting and the parking lot endless.  There is also an undeniable magic there - creatures of so many varieties, most of which I do not want to meet in my backyard (or at all) without benefit of separating glass or bars.  But they are a testament to the creator's infinite imagination and biologic prowess.  Go God!


When Bryce and Tyler got in my car the other day to embark on such an adventure, Bryce immediately announced, very sweetly and succinctly, "I don't really like zoos."  I smiled sweetly, too, and then pointed the car toward Brookfield.

How to convince a 10 year old to enjoy the zoo:

1.  It's a 30 minute trip assuming cooperative traffic and a lead foot.  We made it in a record 40 minutes.  Bryce didn't complain once.  That's because he has a very wise Granma who gave him her IPhone to use on the ride.  On the other hand, there were several rounds of are-we-there-yet from younger brother in the back seat.

2.  Promise younger brother seat a piggy back ride at the zoo.  Minimal success with the whining - sigh.  And, yes, he got his ride - double sigh.

3.  Impress grandson-the-eldest with zoo map reading skills.  We came in the North entrance, so I turned the map upside down to orient myself.  This did not escape Bryce's notice - or friendly, jabbing comments.  It did, however, get us to our lunch spot with much greater efficiency than his own cartography interpretations.  So later in the day when we were by the South gate, Bryce pulled out the map to find the next desired attraction.  Tyler pointed out he had it upside down, to which Bryce replied, "This is how Granma reads it and it works."  I love that kid!  Fortunately, by then I had my bearings.  We didn't get lost even once - a Granma acomplishment.

4. Buy tickets for the Dolphin Show, three hours hence.  Nothing like saving the best for last.  More on that later.

5.  Wander from playground to playground by way of animals.  This pleased both of my personal primates.  Speaking of monkeys, they voted no to Tropic World.  I was only mildly disappointed and hid it well.  Kudos to me.

6.  Dippin Dots.  'Nuff said.


7.  The Dolphin show starts at 2:30, the doors open at 2:00.  In past visits, we have never been there early enough to get a good seat in the Splash Zone.  We were first in line at 1:45 and had our choice of prime seats.  We made it through the whole show without collecting even a drop, which pleased Tyler no end.  His brother - not so much.  As the crowd rose to disassemble, Bryce and I looked at each other to lament our lack of splash, when a rouge dolphin performed just one more trick for the audience.  YES!!!  We got wet!  (Have I mentioned yet that it was 50 degrees outside?)


All good things must come to an end, and they did - right on schedule - five and a half hours later.  As you can see from the photographic evidence, he really doesn't like the zoo.

Yep, that's what I thought...

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...

Super Powers!

First a belated public service announcement: last Thursday was National Super Hero Day!  Had I realized that LAST Tuesday, I would have informed you in advance.  As it was, I didn't hear of the opportunity to acknowledge greatness until I was on the way home from work on that momentous day.  I wonder how many sightings of Super Man or Wonder Woman I missed mistakenly expecting a mundane April Thursday.  I almost missed the opportunity - almost, but not entirely!

Some people hear Super Hero and immediately think of the Spider Man or the Green Hornet or Batman and Robin.  For me, one word instantly popped into my head when I heard of the momentous occasion:  Tyler.  You see, Tyler is so super on his own that he doesn't need a two word moniker or a side kick, though he does have Bryce and Bella, so he actually has TWO sidekicks.  Bryce and Bella might offer swift kicks of their own at being dubbed such - siblings!

Tyler is a mighty force with which to be reckoned.  Even after multiple frantic calls and offering assistance to multitudes of damsels in distress, Tyler remains on heightened alert.  He is a perpetual motion machine that will not rest until the whole of the world is breathing easy.  Even then, he is ever vigilant - just in case.  If you doubt me, you should see him at the dinner table.  Fork in one hand and spoon in the other, they twist and twirl non-stop the entire meal.  By that I do not mean that he is eating quickly, if at all.  It's just that the utensils that might otherwise be used for such purposes never stop moving.  Super Tyler has, after all, studied under the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  He would know, though I don't, exactly which Turtle employs which tool of the trade and how to use each effectively.

Perhaps you didn't get to show your gratitude to an actual super hero last Thursday, but I did!  I got to call Tyler and thank him most humbly for his service.  His dad received a smile and a hug for my phone call.  I think I'm jealous!  But you can't hold a defender of justice down - just ask Lois Lane.  I'll collect my hugs later - when my favorite super hero has a rare, spare moment.

I love you, Super Tyler!

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!