Kids, Mine And Theirs

It´s pretty scary raising kids. There are so many things that can go wrong. They get sick; they act up; they get in trouble at school; some have learning issues. Through it all, it´s pretty scary but you get through it. And you´re done.  With a sigh of relief, you pat yourself on the back and know you´ve done your best.

Then come the grandkids and it is even scarier. For one thing, you know all the things that can go wrong. Then there´s the fact that things are not under your control. They have their own parents that make decisions and, for the most part, you have to stand by and support those decisions. Yes, you can offer opinions and suggestions but you can´t push. At least I cannot.  I watch and listen and, when appropriate, I will offer my two cents. But it is all very scary, nonetheless.

That´s what is going on here in my little corner of the world. First it was summer break and the kids were all ready with a day care plan but that didn´t work out because the kids don´t like going to the  woman who was going to watch them. She watches all her grandchildren at the same time so I think our boys just are not used to all of the noise and no technology and other kids, most of them younger than them. So I am called on to go watch them. No problem. Then Spencer got sick and was hospitalized. So I was not only watching the others and trying to be supportive of my daughter, I was also running back and forth to the hospital, their house, and my house! After seven days in the hospital, he was discharged but I had to still be there because he had to be watched and given his medicine on a strict schedule. Now we are looking at major surgery for the little guy (he´s six) and the start of another school year and everything is up in the air.

In the meantime, there is no time for me to see my doctors and get my tests done. The distance between the boys where I need to be and my doctors makes it difficult. And the schedule changes constantly so I am on call every day, all day. I cannot plan “my stuff.¨

And so it´s tough. It´s scary. But that´s my life right now.

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Are You Going To Die?

What a question. The obvious answer would be yes, we’re all going to die. However, it was Spencer (4 years old) asking. So not a good answer for him.

It all came about because of his curiosity and my diabetes. Actually, it goes back to my surgery last July. Somehow, he must have heard the grownups discussing the possibility that I might die. They hear everything, those little ones, especially the things they are not supposed to. I was very careful not to discuss anything like that in front of them. But I think my daughter must have discussed it with either her boyfriend or her friends, maybe even on the phone. So he heard it and got it in his head.

Fast forward to now. I am careful not to test or inject my insulin around the boys but because they spend so much time with me, it is sometimes inevitable that they will see me test and/or inject. Spencer asked me what I was doing when I was testing my glucose, which requires a prick of the finger to get a drop of blood for the meter. I explained that I was testing to see how much sugar was in my blood. I went on to tell him, in the simplest of terms, that we all have sugar in our blood but sometimes our body doesn’t work right and we end up with too much sugar in our blood and that can hurt our organs and make us sick. I told him that is what I have and it is called diabetes. That’s why I have to test my blood before every meal and at other times. Then I have to give myself an injection of insulin that helps get rid of the sugar in my blood (again, I had to keep it very simple). He’s very curious now and every time he sees me reach for my meter, he wants to come watch. Then when I am done testing and injecting, he always asks “Nana, are you going to die?” The answer I give him is simple, too. “No, I’m okay. I’m not going to die.”

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Late Lesson

Yesterday I wrote about a laundry lesson and my son. That reminded me of another lesson with my son. I went through old posts because I was sure I had written about it previously but I didn’t find it. Of course, maybe I just didn’t look well enough but in any case, I’m writing it up for you today.

In eighth grade, Tony developed a habit of sleeping in late in the mornings. On school mornings. He would stay up way too late and although I kept after him to go to bed, I was not going to put either of us through a routine of standing there until he got in bed and shut off the lights. I gave him more credit than that and trusted him to finish what he was doing and go to bed. If he woke up too late he would end up being late to school. I would not let him stay home just because he had stayed up too late. However, because he would get in trouble, I did call the school and say he hadn’t felt well that morning and had missed first period but I would get him there by second period. Then it happened again. And again.

By the fourth time, I told him the night before that if he didn’t get up in time for school, I was not going to lie for him. I guess he didn’t believe me because he overslept again. And true to my warning, I refused to call in or write him a note. I just took him and dropped him off, waiting at the curb until he walked in the door. That afternoon he was mad at me. He said that all because of me he was going to have to have a week of lunch time detention. I reminded him that it wasn’t because of me. It was because he couldn’t go to bed on time or get up on time. He mumbled something and went in his room.

It turns out that lunch detention was held in one of the classrooms. The kids would take their lunch in there and they had five minutes to eat. No talking. Just eating. Then when they were finished eating, they had to sit perfectly straight, facing forward, with their hands folded in front of them for the rest of the lunch period. He said it was beyond boring. I almost felt bad for him. Almost. But I was trying to teach him to be more responsible. I was afraid he might not learn and we would have to do it all over again.

It seemed to have worked because he didn’t over sleep again. Not for school.

Then, about two or more months later, he said one day, “Mom you know when you made me go to school and tell them I had over slept and I had lunch detention for a week? Well, I hated it at the time and I was mad at you but now I realize that it was the best thing you could have done for me.”

Lesson learned. For both of us.

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Tempting

I belong to the local Nextdoor community on Facebook. I check it every day, not because I’m looking for anything specific but because sometimes there is interesting information posted. For example, on Saturday I will be attending a free learn to crochet workshop, at the local library, which was organized by a woman in the group who wanted to learn to crochet. I did crochet years ago but haven’t in maybe fifteen so  I am going.

The other day, I came across a posting that made me chuckle and I figured that the poster didn’t realize that what they posted was funny.

I was tempted to reply and inquire about the free toddler! I didn’t because I didn’t want them to think I was putting them down in any way. But it did cross my mine and made me chuckle.

The next day I found this:

I really laughed out loud at this one because someone else had followed through with replying to the post. I figured I wanted to meet this woman. I might, one day. In fact, I will look for her at the crochet workshop in case she attends on Saturday. I also waited to see if the original poster would reply and wondered if she would be angry.

I didn’t have to wait long.

This one really cracked me up.

Being the grandmother of a toddler, I also found this a tempting post. Maybe we should list Spencer! 😉

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Hopes And Dreams

If we were having coffee, we would be indoors. It’s raining here in Seattle. It’s not cold, just wet. You would have to help yourself to a drink before settling in as I have a baby in my arms! I drove up here on Tuesday morning and was handed a baby as soon as I got in the door. The rest of the time has been filled with holding him, feeding him, and lots of burping! Mati is four weeks old. He’s quite alert for four weeks. I think I’m spoiling him. He’s been attached to me almost all day, every day. I got to be his first babysitter, too. His mommy and daddy had tickets to two soccer games this week so they got a couple of nights out and I got this precious little boy to myself.

This past week has been filled with shock and sadness in the world. Being here with this tiny, innocent little boy has helped me both empathize with that grief and sadness and also get through it without totally falling apart.

As Mati sleeps in my arms, I’m reminded of holding his daddy in my arms when he was this age. I’m reminded of how much simpler the world was; how much less hate, fear, and danger we faced. I am also filled with hope and dreams that Mati’s world will be a better place; that he won’t have to know the hate and intolerance; that he will be in less danger when he grows; that he will live in a world that embraces all mankind.

I’ll be driving home to Portland tomorrow. I’m already missing this little one and wondering when I’ll be back to see him. I’m lucky that he’s only a three hour drive away from me. Hopefully that will translate into frequent visits.

 #WeekendCoffeeShare is a weekly blog linkup hosted by Diana at Part Time Monster Blog. Come join us!

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Independence

I have mentioned previously that I volunteer at my grandson’s school. He is in Kindergarten. Usually, I do one of two things. I either help with kids’ printing practice, one on one, or I take a couple out in the group work center (in the hallway) to work on an art project. I think it’s sad that there is no time for the kids to have an art project as a whole group but there is so much to be covered that there just is no time. I enjoy doing the art projects, though so it’s a good fit for me.

Before Christmas, I was asked to do an art project where the kids would be working on making a Christmas tree picture using their shapes. We were using a large triangle, a small rectangle, and circles. The instructions were for them to (1) draw a large triangle then a (2) small rectangle touching the bottom of the triangle. They had a sample to look at and I explained it slowly and carefully to each of the two (at a time) students. There was more to it but I only gave those instructions until they had completed those steps. The first three kids really had a problem drawing the triangle and we had to erase a lot. So I thought to lightly draw three dots and have them connect them with their pencil to form the triangle. It worked like a charm but I only did it for those that were having trouble with the triangle. So when it was Anderson’s turn (that’s my grandson), I drew the dots for the other child and then turned to help Anderson. When I turned, he had seen me draw the dots and had drawn his own three dots, and was connecting them! No help needed. I was very pleased but the triangle wasn’t quite like the others. It was narrower and not quite as large as the others. However, I did not have the heart to tell him to erase it. He had done such a good job with no help! So what if his was a little different?! I think he made a perfect little Christmas tree!

The last steps were to use a large marshmallow in paint to fill in the triangle and the rectangle; then a small marshmallow to paint ornaments on the tree. Kind of a clever way to incorporate triangles, rectangles, and circles (which they were studying that week) into a seasonal project!

Anderson’s Three Shapes Christmas Tree

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A Cookie Smile

When Anderson slept over on Friday night, we read a bedtime story on my Kindle. He said he didn’t know we could read books on the Kindle (tablet) so I showed him all the kid books I had downloaded to his Kindle Fire. We picked one called Diego Dilemma and the Cookie Conundrum. It’s a cute story but I would recommend that the author go back and use kid language. The sentence structure and a lot of the vocabulary are way above the 5 year age recommendation of the book.

In the story, the little boy, Diego, loves cookies but can only eat them when he earns them. He earns them by eating vegetables and by being a good boy. One day he decides to eat all the cookies without permission and, just like his dad warned, he turned into a cookie!

So now, Anderson keeps asking if he is going to turn into a cookie. Last night he asked if he was going to turn into a candy cane and this morning, after his second granola bar, he asked if he was going to turn into a granola bar!

Ah! The power of the written word!

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Emotional

I seem to be very emotional today. I’m not sure why. We had a very good trip. We spent the day in Tacoma with the boys’ other grandparents before heading home. All is fine here. The kitty missed me and is letting me know I should not leave her alone again.

And yet, I find myself getting teary with almost everything. A post on FB; song lyrics; a movie I put on to get over my emotional state (White Christmas). Everything. It might be because it is getting to me that I won’t be spending Christmas with two of my kids. It might be because I will be turning 60 in a couple of weeks. It might be because I want the whole world to be a better place. It might be because I’m tired. It might be because of the season. It might be because I miss my sisters and because although my three brothers have been gone for years, this is the first Christmas without my dad and the combination of all of them being gone is getting to me.

It has been a very busy, emotional, scary, and exciting year. Things seem to have happened on someone else’s plan, not mine. There is also so much that is unknown for me personally right now.

I think it has all snowballed from last January when I first started to feel sick to now when I don’t know where I will be this time next year.

I wanted to write a happy post; a positive one; but it just isn’t happening today. I’ll try to turn that around for tomorrow.

Do you get emotional at Christmas time? What do you do to “fix” that?

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Mixed Messages

Last week, although he loved school, Anderson did have one instance in which he was sort of reprimanded by the teacher.  He says she was talking and he was talking and she told him not to talk so he stopped.  We asked him who he was talking to and he said “to myself”.  I had to laugh at that.  I had told his mom that they should talk to him before he started school and tell him what was appropriate for kindergarten and what was not. Kindergarten is real school and he’s not used to that. He’s used to preschool where they pretty much “suggested’ that he do things and if he didn’t want to, it was okay. Kindergarten isn’t like that!

The talking to himself is interesting, too.  When he first started Head Start the year before last, the teacher was concerned because he was too quiet.  She said he didn’t talk to anyone and he didn’t  “pretend play” she had him checked out by the district psych staff.  Of course, when they observed him one-on-one, he was fine.  They were actually very impressed with how advanced he was for his age.  The 2 hour observation period was cut short after just a half hour because they felt it was not necessary.  He was, since then, encouraged to “pretend” and talk to himself in his pretending.  He’s gotten quite good at it.  He plays a game on the Kindle tablet called Mixels.  It’s a Lego program in conjunction with the Cartoon Network.  The good guys are Mixels.  They’re colorful and each has a different power.  The bad guys are tiny figures that are multi-powered and are black.  They are called Nixels.  The Nixels chase the Mixels all over and they gang up on the Mixels.

Anderson’s thing now is that when we are someplace and there are a lot of people around that we don’t know, he says they are Nixels coming after us and we have to hurry and get out of there!  He pretends to talk to the Mixels.  He does it all the time. I think he was probably talking to the Mixels when the teacher asked him not to talk.  He doesn’t quite understand why he can’t talk to Mixels when he needs to get away from the Nixels (which is really anyone he doesn’t know and he doesn’t know anyone in the class).  His mom and dad didn’t have that talk with him.  I guess I’ll have to be the bad guy and talk to him about that.

I think it’s going to be an interesting time getting used to kindergarten and real school!

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Well…

( I wrote this on Tuesday night and tried to post it but I haven’t had a good internet connection that lasts long enough for it to upload from my phone to the blog. I’m home now.)

If you haven’t guessed by now, I’m traveling.  I have spent the last couple of days driving between Portland and Seaside.  It’s a 2 hour trip in each direction. It was a spur of the moment thing. My daughter and company decided to go overnight and invited me. I had a doctor’s appointment so I declined.  But I really, really wanted to go, for a number of reasons.  So I  went with them.  Then I drove back to Portland for my appointment (which went fine btw) and then I got a text from my daughter saying they decided to stay another night and I was included. So right after my appointment I drove right back to Seaside. 

This is important for a number of reasons.  The most important of those reasons is that my daughter has made the trip prohibitive for me. She keeps saying I can’t make the trip because it’s a hard drive.  It is but I’ve done it now.  Over. Back. Over. And today, I’ll do it back again.  It’s not that bad. I CAN do it.

In the meantime, I’ve been able to experience and enjoy a magnificent sunset.  And today, an amazingly quiet moment at the mouth of the Columbia River.  I won’t forget either.  And I’ve enjoyed my grandsons.  They are amazing.  I wouldn’t trade the time for anything.  Anything.   

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