The Possible's slow fuse is lit By the Imagination. ~ Emily Dickinson

My front porch spent a couple hours today as a Cor-Mor space ship.  What is Cor-Mor?  I don't know.  But to my two little grandsons it was as real to them as if they were on an actual space ship flying thru the Milky Way.  I bought them a couple of cheap foam pirate swords a month or so ago that have fought more battles, killed more bad guys, than I can even count.  Today they were light sabres fighting the four-handed robots.  My finger was a laser gun that 'killed' all the robot ships (any car, truck, or school bus) that drove past our house.  I was Cor-Mor Grandma and every time Captain Dylan and Cor-Mor Cooper left the ship Cooper would wave at me and say, "Bye, Cor-Mor Grandma!  I love you!" as he dashed off to battle.  Cooper had an imaginary computer at my end of the porch, Dylan had his at the other end.  They would stand there and pretend-type on their keyboards and then meet by the steps and make up their battle plan for attack.  My job?  It was to push a nail every now and then on one of the posts that was the "On" switch for turning the space ship on.  I also had an imaginary lever on my chair I had to shift every now and then for more power.

I don't know who had more fun, them or me.

Isn't imagination a wonderful thing?  Isn't it sad, the day we 'come of age' where all of a sudden we've lost the ability to imagine, where playing isn't really fun anymore?  My Dear Hubby remembers his day very well.  It was a day where he went to play GI Joes with a cousin and realized he didn't feel like playing it any more.  For me, it was a day I sat down with my childhood best friend Angie to play Barbie dolls, and I couldn't think of a thing I wanted my Barbie to do.  I put the doll down and told Angie, "I don't feel like doing this any more."

Not that we adults don't 'imagine' things.  But our imaginary images tend to be more negative..  We can imagine the world economy crashing.  We can imagine a tornado coming straight at us and demolishing our home.  We seem to have lost the whimsy side of imagination...the world where whatever we dream is as real as the nose on our face.  Where horses can fly and cats can play fiddles.  Where cows truly do jump over the moon.

I feel very privileged to have two little grandsons who know I'll imagine right along with them, to be included in their games and never "pooh pooh" whatever their minds are dreaming up as we go.  I have to dig back 50 years or so to take myself  mentally to their ages and remember how real my space ships and horses I rode thru the mist on the school playgrounds on cold autumn mornings were,  But I still can.  And I feel very blessed to be able to do so.  If nothing else, I hope my little grandsons will still turn to me one day and say like they do now, "Grandma, we sure have fun at your house!"

The Possible's slow fuse is lit by the Imagination. ~ Emily Dickinson

We have found the elusive "Keepy" the grandboys and I were searching for a few weeks back! Dylan was looking thru the photos on Facebook his mom had taken of them when they were visiting Long Beach in Washington State this past summer and all of a sudden I heard him yell, "Gram, here's Keepy!" When I came over to look, this photo was on the screen. That's Dylan on the left and "Keepy" on the right. Who is Keepy, you might ask? Why it's none other than Cooper's daughter who went looking for Dylan's daughter and granddaughters when they got lost at the beach. That's who Keepy is.

Mystery solved.

Once in a young lifetime one should be allowed to have as much sweetness as one can possibly want and hold. ~ Judith Olney

Dylan's saying, "Just bring on the candy, folks!"

Fun with good friends
Cooper, Dylan, and their friends Sabrina and Emily

Whoever said money can't buy happiness simply didn't know where to go shopping. ~ Bo Derek

4-year-old Dylan is becoming a computer whiz. I have two of his favorite sites on my Favorites bar for him -- the PBS Games and Disney Pixar Cars from the "Cars" movie that has pictures and names of all the "Cars" characters. He has most of them memorized. He also wants all of them for Christmas. I have found a wonderful way to keep him occupied, adding and subtracting cars to his Christmas List. I showed him how to add cars to his 'cart' and how to remove them, then how to back-arrow to the main page so he can browse some more. Yesterday his list was up to $1,779. Today, as I closed down the site after he left for home, it was down to $1,278. What a shopper! Good thing I haven't shown him how to use my debit card.

And, no....he isn't getting every "Car" for Christmas. Fat chance.

We're captive on the carousel of time; we can't return we can only look behind. ~ Joni Mitchell

Last week I was on vacation and one of the things I did, besides the mundane chores of painting the front porch steps and sorting/donating a bunch of stuff cluttering the basement, I spent a day with my younger brother. He took me out to lunch at a Mexican restaurant in downtown Vancouver and on the way back to his home we decided to take a drive thru our old neighborhood. To our surprise, 'our' house was up for sale, with an information box with flyers inside tacked on to the "For Sale" post. If anyone was home they'd had no idea who we were so I jumped out of my brother's Aston Martin -- a waaaaaaaaaaaaay cool car, by the way -- to grab a flyer. Since the time period we both lived there, in the late 1960s-1970s, a whole lot of remodeling has gone on and even tho the basic floor plan is the same it doesn't look anything like it did when we were teens. It's gorgeous. The windows to the right of the front door belong to what used to be my bedroom. It's since been converted to a home office with beautiful French doors. The upstairs, which used to be an unfinished attic, is now a huge master bedroom suite with a sitting area in the front gable. The kitchen is to die for. Sigh......if only my parents had been blessed with the money to update it! When they bought it in 1968 they paid something like $11,900 for it. Today it is selling for $239,900. Whoa. One thing it has going for it is it's located in a neighborhood near downtown that is being revitalized, with lots of old bungalow and tudor and Craftsmen homes that have been purchased and revamped. As beautiful as it is I wouldn't want to live there again. Too many bad memories. I suppose you can go home again, but it isn't always a wise choice to do so.

You haven't experienced real life until you've volunteered in a preschool with 15 rambunctious, energetic, inquisitive, precocious, adorable 4-year-olds. What a hoot! Cooper and I spent the morning yesterday with Dylan and his classmates and I can't remember the last time 3 hours have passed so quickly. We played out on the playground, danced/wiggled/jiggled to music, played "What's Your Name" as we tossed a beanbag around the circle, had snack time, craft time, play time, story time. I took blocks and built a huge roadway for the little boys to drive their cars and trucks on. I played doll house with Ava. Ezra and Sumalee followed me around like shadows. I helped several go potty. I didn't have time to feel like the 'odd man out' being the only Grandma there amongst 3 younger mothers...I was too busy! Tho I did have a nice conversation during story time with one of the mothers as she and I swept up the sand around the sand table. I told her what a wonderful experience it is for both Dylan and Cooper to have this exposure to other kids because with being a stay-at-home Grandma I don't really have a network of friends with little ones to spend time with. She told me that she doesn't, either, and with her little boy James heading off for kindergarten next year she was becoming very concerned about him being too isolated. So many mothers work now. Besides James she also has a little one who is Cooper's age...so maybe on one of their 'off' days from school I'll invite her over so the four of them can play together.



Each little phase of the grandboys' childhood is so bittersweet. I didn't have the time or take the time when I was a young parent to realize that, for most of us, one time around the parenthood circuit is the only one we get. We're too tired, too stressed, too young ourselves to know how much we should savor each moment as we're living it. But, oh, how time and age gives us such a different perspective! This time I know it's the last time for me. I don't necessarily want to stop time and keep them little forever, but there are days I wish it would slow down a little bit! But, no...Time waits for no one.

If I had to sum up Friendship in one word, it would be Comfort. ~ Terri Guillemets

And so I enter into a new phase of grandparenthood. Preschool. Tonite my daughter-in-law and I went to the preschool orientation for Dylan. I was the only grandma there. Typical. I'm used to that. But what amazed...and amused...me was how many single fathers were there. A few of them in their work clothes - dress slacks, white shirts, ties - but definitely without any female in tow. Hmmmmmmmmm. Family dynamics were beginning to change when I was a young mother but the basic nuclear family - dad, mom, and kid/kids - was still pretty much the norm. Not so any more. I don't know if these fathers are actual 'single' fathers with custody of their little ones...or 'partnership' fathers...or if the mothers were working and unable to attend. It's a cooperative preschool so I'll be volunteering in the classroom two days per month. I'm sure I'll learn soon enough which child belongs to who and how it all circles around and weaves in and out, all the threads that will bind this small group of children together. My daughter-in-law and I both felt comfortable. It didn't feel like any of the women who run it have a 'goddess' complex of being in charge. Everyone was warm and friendly and helpful and informative. School begins Monday. Tally ho and away we go!



Today my best friend Lizzee came over to spend the day with me. Oh, I love her. Just absolutely love her. We've been best friends since February 1967. 43 years. Longer than many of you who are reading this have been alive. The year Spencer Tracy died. "Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band" by the Beatles was released. "A Man for All Seasons" won the Academy Award. The 6-Day War was fought in Israel. Race riots erupted in Detroit, New York City, and Birmingham, Alabama. Thurgood Marshall became the first black Supreme Court Justice. Congress created PBS. Rolling Stone magazine debuted. "The Graduate", "Cool Hand Luke", "Bonnie and Clyde" and "In the Heat of the Night" were all popular movies. We were both 13 years old.



Yes, indeed. A lot of water under the bridge this friendship has stood by and watched trickle down the River of Life.



Amazing.

If the human brain were so simple that we could understand it, we would be so simple that we couldn't. ~ Emerson M. Pugh

The retail world has a new online consumer: my grandson Dylan. This young boy has been learning lately the joys of computers, mainly online educational games. He's been wanting to add to his "Cars" collection and yesterday he asked me, "Grandma, do you think we can find some on the 'puter?" Mainly, to begin with, it was to find character names of some of the more obscure vehicles from the movie. We found a dandy site for that. And we even ordered 4 new cars, which should be coming by the end of the week. Today we went back to the site, just because he loves to scroll down the page and click on each one to enlarge it, then click the Back arrow to the main page. At the age of 4 his computer skills are quickly catching up with mine! He's so excited knowing his new cars will be arriving any day now that he's asking when he can order more. What have I created?! And I'm already searching for new educational game sites. He's getting bored with the ones he's been playing on, within a few days of finding them. He asked me this afternoon, "Grandma, can you find me some new ones? These are so boring!" I've really got to stay on my toes to keep one step ahead of him.

Our Tiny Mouse arrived today and already I'm loving it! We hooked it up right after the grandboys woke up from their naps and I was amazed at how much it helped Dylan in navigating on the computer. As for me, with the arthritis in my hands it is so much more comfortable! Not having to flex my fingers and hand joints to maneuver a larger mouse already feels better. And it hardly takes up any space.

Sea Shells -- for Dylan

Sea Shells

For Dylan

It's a funny thing about sea shells.

Some you can take and crush in your hand,

and yet they withstand the roilings and boilings in a heaving, stormy sea.

Some are pearlescent.

You can almost see the sun through them.

They're smooth to the touch.

Cool to the fingertips.

You can lift them to your lips.

You can taste the sea.

Others are heavy and dense.

Almost ugly.

Until you hold them up close and see how God

made them beautiful

if you only take the time

to look.

Genius is more often found in a cracked pot than in a whole one. ~ E.B. White

This morning was cool for the first time in several days so the grandboys and I decided it'd be a good day for a bus ride and walk. I'd given them some of those cheap disposable cameras to take pictures a while back and I've been meaning to get them in to Walgreen's to get the film developed. I am notoriously bad about doing stuff like that, so those cameras have been battered and banged about and chucked in to the bottom of the toy bins more than once. In fact, we had to empty out one of the bins this morning to find one of the cameras. Once we got them collected we took off to walk the two blocks to the bus stop where we'd catch the first bus on our trip.



Coopy loves to hold the bus tickets as we walk along and as we wait for a bus to come. He's quite reliable. He considers himself quite the big boy being given this responsibility and takes it quite seriously. He has never lost or dropped one yet. So when the bus pulled up I lifted him on to the step as Dylan stepped on too and started to get on myself when Cooper looked at me with a stricken look on his face and said, "Ahma! Ticket!" and pointed back out behind me. I turned around and sure enough...the ticket sat in the middle of the sidewalk. So I asked the driver to hold on a sec while I went to retrieve it. I stepped down. And the next thing I know, I'm on the ground. Right on my rear end! In the middle of the sidewalk. But I swooped up the ticket, hopped on the bus, and deposited it in the kiosk. The driver, a woman around my age, was so concerned. "Are you sure you're ok?" I laughed and said yes, I was just fine. The only thing bruised was my dignity. She reassured me, "Honey, no one saw you except me anyway." And I looked back in the bus and all there were for passengers was an older man nodding off in his seat and a teenager with ear plugs hunched over texting away. I sat down with the boys and she and I began to chuckle. "Oh, the things you get to see during the working day, huh? At least when I sat on my seat I was well-padded!" I said. That got us both to giggling and she said, "Honey, you just went down so smooth!"

When I go in for crash-landings that's how I like to do it....smooooooooooooth!

I blame it on my progressive lenses. That's the third time I've misstepped. My depth perception is very tricky with them.

Anyway...we did our walking and our bus transferring and made it to Walgreen's and back and bought a pizza for lunch. The boys took a good nap. I read several pages of a book my bloggy friend Pam had written about on her blog. Dylan woke up first and we went out back to check on the garden. My neighbor Sharon called over the fence and asked us to come over...she wanted to show something to me. She and her husband just had new grass planted in their back yard and they're leaving on Friday to go to Yakima to visit her sick aunt so she showed me the grass and asked if I'd be kind enough to water it on Saturday for them. Not a problem.

Dylan and I went back home and as I was getting some juice for the boys he came in to the kitchen and asked, "Gram, why is Sharon going to Yakima?" And I told him about her aunt who's very sick. He wandered off and then came back to me a few minutes later. "Gram," he said, "Can we pray to Jesus right now and ask Him to make Sharon's aunt all better?"

Oh, that touched my heart! And when I told Sharon about it later, needless to say it touched hers, too.

So of course I said yes, and he hugged me as we prayed together.

A little child shall lead them.

For Dyl and Coopy...

Your lives are jam-packed with rhythms.

Rhythms to the inner rhymes

you hum and play to.

Routine rhythms that are

the axis

your world spins on.

They bring security

and calm.

They soothe.

The road rhythms you travel

in your

everyday life

drowse you to sleep.

Heart rhythms.

Gentle rhythms.

Love rhythms.

Lullaby rhythms.

They slip by you as elusive as

butterflies wings.

But they are there,

the music of your

lives.

My Boys....

Every day you'll see the dust as I drive my baby in my Magic Bus ~ The Who

An uneventful week around here. Maybe we're turning a corner? Maybe the boys are finally past the 'constant need' stage and settling more into little-boyhood. I'm finding small kernels of time during the day now where I can sit back and observe...catch my breath...and not be so constantly in demand. Still always available for a hug or a kiss or an arm to grasp as they cuddle up on the couch and lean on my shoulder. But I can claim a bit of myself back.

Cooper roused a bit from his nap yesterday afternoon, calling out for a 'boggy' -- his bottle -- and fussing drowsily. I took him to the rocking chair and rocked him back to sleep as he sucked half-heartedly, gazing down at him and thinking how delicious it is to have a little boy still small enough to fit on my lap - barely. I read other women's blogs, those of harried young mothers, where there are days when they wonder "Will this never end?!" I'm here to tell you that yes, it does. I remember quite clearly from my first time around, being at home with my two children, how long those first few years between birth and Kindergarten seemed to be. And the next thing I knew they were graduating from high school. And now they're in their 30s, almost middle-aged! Well, give or take a few years yet, but you know what I mean. Time. Flies.

That's something we can never get back...Time. We should never, ever wish it away.

We rode the bus on Monday. To one of the malls and back. The bus lady was kind enough to give each boy a ticket, even tho at their ages they ride free. They don't care where they go, they just like to ride. We sat at the very back where every bump in the road caused our bottoms to lift an inch or two off the seats. They loved that. And every ride is an adventure in people-watching and sights to see out the windows. If we get bored, we take a bus ride. Next on the list are two requests: one, to go downtown to one of the parks, take bread, and feed the birds; two, to take the MAX train to the airport to watch jets take off and land. Even I enjoy doing those things.

My two-year-old grandson Cooper thinks I'm magic. Whenever I change his diaper and apply Desitin, he likes to stick his finger into the tube opening and get a little bit on his finger tip. I grab his finger tip and squeeze, wiping all the Desitin off, and when I show him his finger tip again I say, "See, Cooper? It's all gone! Magic!" No matter how many times I do it, it amuses him to no end.

Oh, if only the world was so easy to make happy!

Guess what my grandboys brought me this week.

Flowers!

There are two lasting bequests we can give our children: one is roots. The other is wings. ~ Hodding Carter, Jr.

Today was a day filled with sidewalk chalk and pulling weeds, of filling yard debris bags and checking out the tomatoes on the vines. Of walking out on the back porch this morning and watching my grandboys' mouths drop open at the site of their 'new' playsets and Dylan telling me, "Grandma, it looks like a playground out here!" Watching their delight and listening to their laughter bubble forth as they climbed up and down and slid and rocked and had the absolute time of their lives. It was a walk around the neighborhood at 6:45 in the morning, watching the world wake up and stopping at the nearby bakery for blueberry and cinnamon muffins. A day for cuddling under their 'blankies' on the front porch glider and watching a woodpecker pecking away at bugs on the sidewalk. Watching Dylan's awe and utter concentration as he tiptoed up to a hummingbird drinking from the lavender plants, getting within inches of it before it flew away. Of watching the little black-capped chickadees flying in and out of our neighbor's bird house, busy feeding their babies. Watching my grandbabies slumber peacefully during their naps.

It was a good day.

You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give. ~ Kahlil Gibran

I got a phone call Saturday afternoon from my son. "Mom, you have a grandson here who's wanting to talk to you. Do you have a minute?"

"Well, sure," said I.

And on the line comes Dylan. Crying. "Grandma, I'm really missing you!"

"Well, sweetheart, I'm really missing you, too. But you'll be coming over tomorrow afternoon for an hour or so."

"I know, Grandma, but I'm missing you right now!"

How quickly, as we grow older, we forget the urgency and the intensity of our childhood emotions. If I think back on the time when my mother had foot surgery and my two older brothers and I were sent off to stay with some very close out-of-town family friends for the week she was on crutches...I was 6 at the time...I still can feel the absolute misery and feelings of abandonment deep in my gut. I had never been away from home before that, and at the age of 6 that week felt like an eternity. I have never been so homesick in my life. Never again do I want to feel that abject sense of missing someone.

When my son dropped Dylan off yesterday afternoon he told me that Dylan had said to him after he got off the phone, "Daddy, I'm having a really bad day!" So as I took Dylan out for a walk I asked him, "Why were you having such a bad day, Dyl?" and he told me, "Because I was missing you so much."

I love the fact that he loves me. But I don't want that love to be a burden to him. And I'm sure as he grows older and the parameters of his life broaden out he'll depend on me less and less for security. Which is the way it should be. But right now I bask in the warmth of his love. And Coopy's, too. Cooper's is deep and intense as well, but he's of a more independent nature. His love is in the here and now. Dylan wears his heart on his sleeve. Their love is not a burden to me, that's for sure. It's a gift, and one I am thankful for and treasure every day. And I never ever want to do anything to jeopardize it, to take it for granted. Because they don't have to love me. They choose to love me. I can't make them love me. But I am grateful they do.

They say genes skip generations. Maybe that's why grandparents find their grandchildren so likeable. ~ Joan McIntosh

I hope none of you out there who read my blog are under the false impression that I'm the perfect grandmother. I'm not. I'm definitely human. I have my days where I'm totally burned out. Where I wish I was doing anything but what I'm doing. Wishing for adult conversation. For an hour of peace and quiet.

And then along comes a day like yesterday.

I have noticed recently another grandmother strolling past with a newborn grandchild on a daily basis but I've never been outside when she's walked by. Yesterday morning the grandboys and I were out in the front yard tossing out bread crumbs to the birds when she came by and we struck up a conversation. She's visiting out here from Port Huron, Michigan, where she's a middle school teacher. She's taking care of her new grandson until the first of August when she has to return to her 'real world'. And already she's worrying about the fate of her little grandson, as is her son and daughter-in-law, concerned about handing him over to complete strangers for day care. They've found a Baptist church nearby that provides day care and that's where the little guy will be headed once Grandma goes home. But they're still wondering...praying...that this will be the right decision, that he'll be well taken care of and safe there. It is in moments like that one when I want to speak up and say, "I'll do it! He'll be safe and well-loved with me!" but I know that's pure craziness on my part. As much as I'd love to do it, it's beyond me now. 30 years ago, no problem. But at 56...sadly, no.

And even on the days where I tell my grandsons, "Grandma is tired and grumpy! Can you please quiet down?!" or when I'm finally sitting down for 5 seconds and Dylan comes along with a hand outstretched and says, "Grandma, come see the baby kitties!" outside the windows when I don't know if I can get up one. more. time. Even with all my weaknesses. Human-ness. I am still Grandma. And they know they're adored. They know I'm here for them. That I can kiss away boo-boos, wipe away tears. Dole out hugs by the truckload. Watch "Thomas the Train" DVDs for the thousandth time and still oooooh and ahhhhhhh at the right moments. Play pirate ship and race cars with the best of them. Dance around the living room. Wrestle on the floor. Pitch whiffle balls in the back yard. They have the luxury of being safe and secure without even realizing there are places out there where they could be staying that aren't.

It is my gift to them. Free of charge. These years are hard work. But time is fleeting. So fleeting. And tomorrow they will start school. And the next day they'll be graduating. And I will have the satisfaction of knowing I had a part in it all. That for these few years, they've been mine.

It is sweet to let the mind unbend on occasion. ~ Horace

I harvested lettuce from our garden patch last nite. We had it on our bear burgers for dinner. Why is it food you've planted and grown yourself gives so much satisfaction? Even with 20+ straight days of rain the seeds I planted a month or so ago have managed to break the surface and are showing healthy growth and color. Nature triumphs.

The grandboys and I walked over to the library yesterday morning. Without the double stroller and pushing the single one along in case anyone gets too tired of walking, a walk that once took us maybe an hour and a half round-trip has stretched into one that can lasts upwards of three. Cooper is not a fast walker. He meanders. He loves to go up to trees and feel the different textures of bark. Hardly a dandelion he comes across manages to dodge his keen eyes. Each one is presented to 'Ahma' as if it was gold. (It is.) We all squatted down on the sidewalk to watch a new ant colony breaking thru a crack in the sidewalk, pushing bits of dirt and rock out of the hole. We saw two insects mating and Dylan got a rudimentary explanation of the Facts of Life. My two were also around the age of four when questions about "What are they doing?" began to surface. We have been seeing the chickadees mate, the 'couples' picking up twigs and bits of grass to make their nests. I think one pair might be nesting in the huge clematis on our front porch. I'll have to investigate later...we will find the nest and carefully take it apart so the boys can see the care and artistry involved in the weaving of a baby bird's first home.

There is a Russian meat market along one of our routes. We've passed it countless times in the four years we've been out walking. When the air vents are open whenever the owners are smoking their meats and sausages the aroma, the smoky warmth, blows softly down on us and wraps us in its tendrils. Yesterday Dylan spoke up as we passed under it yet once again, all of us breathing deeply and going "Mmmmmmmmm!", and said, "Grandma, we need to go in there and buy some!" So we did. A small rope of chicken sausage and strips of teriyaki jerky. The smell of the shop was enough to make our mouths water. And my fussy Dylan, who survives on chicken sandwiches, chicken nuggets, and pizza, devoured his sausage in seconds. Go figure. I guess he decided if something smells that delicious it has to taste delicious, too.

As we walked yesterday -- and we did a lot of walking, 3 other short walks after our early morning venture; the sun was shining, don'tcha know -- Dylan said, "Grandma, you need to bring up all those books from the basement and read to us." You could've knocked me over with a feather. When our children were little, we didn't have television by choice. We spent our days listening to music, playing, walking...and reading and reading and reading. We had hundreds of books. And some of the sweetest moments of their childhood were the ones when we three cuddled together on the couch and I'd read to them for hours. I tried with the grandboys. In fact, I'd tried several times. But they were so busy. Flit here, wiggle there, up, down. Never sitting still. I gave up. I boxed up the books I'd bought at thrift stores and put them in the basement. But lately one of their favorite pasttimes is watching "Thomas the Train" DVDs, which are told in storybook fashion. And they are fascinated by them. Enthralled. Glued to their seats. And a few days ago in passing I told Dylan, "You know, these are just like stories in books, Dylan." His deep little mind must've finally put it all together. So this morning, after I post this, I am going down in to the basement before they arrive. I am going to bring that big box upstairs and find a big basket and put those books in it. And I will read. And read. And read. Again. Life is a cycle of circles.

Just so I don't forget...

Things Little Boys Love to Do:

1. Feed ducks in a pond

2. Splash in mud puddles

3. Throw rocks in mud puddles

4. Squirt water out of the spigot when they wash their hands

5. Collect all the worms they find when digging in the dirt

6. Spit on the window and then watch it slither down the glass

7. Cram as much sandwich in their mouths as they can

8. Show off that half-chewed mess in their mouths

9. Squat down and watch ants coming in and out of holes on the sidewalk

10. Poke pieces of stick or grass down those holes

11. Pick dandelions for Grandma

12. Endlessly put things in something, then take them out again

13. Love to get down and get dirty

14. Set up the coffeemaker for Papa

15. Help Grandma cook

16. Fold laundry

17. Dust

18. Hide under blankets

19. Race dump trucks from one end of the house to the other

20. Garbage trucks and garbage men

21. Fire trucks and firemen

22. Give tight squeezes

23. Cuddle in the rocking chair while watching "Super Why"

24. And "Word World"

25. And "Sponge Bobby"

26. And "Curious George"

27. And "Between the Lions"

28. Go barefoot...must've gotten that from their Grandma

29. Shriek outside for the fun of it

30. Balance and walk along walls

These things, darling boys, are what fill your days with joy

in 2010.

Ages 2 and 4

Genius is more often found in a cracked pot than in a whole one. ~ E.B. White

Yesterday morning I stepped out on the front porch with Dylan right behind me. I had the bath mat in hand and was beginning to give it a good shake when BOOM! The front door slammed shut behind us. It was locked.

Cooper was inside alone.

I had no key to get in.

Oh no.

Oh no oh no oh no.

I made a mad dash to my neighbor Sharon's, praying she was home. They have an extra key of ours for such emergencies. She was home. But the key couldn't be found.

Now what?!

I'd had an extra key made for us, just for this purpose, but life has been so...distracting...lately, I'd hung it up inside the house and forgotten about it. The two closest family members who could come to my rescue were each at least half an hour away.

All the windows were locked. At least the alarm system was disarmed. So I did what a good Grandma had to do. I broke in to my own house. But...the window I was able to break had a good 5-6 foot drop to the floor. So I did what a good Grandma would do. I dropped. And I hit hard. But I got inside and rescued my little two-year-old grandson. Who was waiting at the gate at the top of the stairs. Who said, "Hi, Ahma!" and smiled at me as I arrived at the top of them and heaved myself over the gate. Nothing had fazed him. All the excitement had been happening outside!

But me...I was a wreck. I had a good cry. I had a very good cry, the woman who rarely, if ever, cries.

And the key? It's hidden. Outside.

Learning is a treasure that will follow its owner everywhere. ~ Chinese Proverb

Guess what we had for dinner!
And guess who cooked it!
The grandboys!
Dylan, aged 4, browned up the turkey meat and added the spices.
Cooper, aged 2, helped stir.
Both added all of the kidney beans.
They stirred it up well.
We put a lid on it.
It simmered on the back of the stove.
Delicious!