But this time, we've stayed inside.
While I haven't snapped pictures of the girls or recorded their conversations, I hope I remember it all.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
this time is different
My usual visit with the Californians would include numerous photos of visits to the beach or the park or even just out back.
But this time, we've stayed inside.
While I haven't snapped pictures of the girls or recorded their conversations, I hope I remember it all.
But this time, we've stayed inside.
While I haven't snapped pictures of the girls or recorded their conversations, I hope I remember it all.
Friday, October 26, 2012
two things i noticed
1. When given a choice for dinner of chicken (two nights) or beef (tacos last night), Janey prefers beef. Gobbled it down and took a second helping.
2. No jello is included in meals brought in by the ward. How can this be? I mean, I'm not complaining, the meals have been awesome. But I thought jello, that fluffy green stuff or frothy pink stuff, was always included. Perhaps this is truly a Utah thing?
2. No jello is included in meals brought in by the ward. How can this be? I mean, I'm not complaining, the meals have been awesome. But I thought jello, that fluffy green stuff or frothy pink stuff, was always included. Perhaps this is truly a Utah thing?
Thursday, October 25, 2012
this is the sweetest gig EVER
1. Every morning I wake up and hear little girls chattering, mostly happily, ready for a new day.
2. I laze about, rise when I'm ready, and for a change, the time is an hour earlier than it usually is when I travel east for work. One hour earlier is much better than two hours later. Trust me on that.
3. I toast a bagel or toss back a handful of homemade chocolate chip cookies for breakfast. Or I drive Janey to preschool and stop at Starbucks for a venti nonfat chai and treats for those at home waiting.
4. My boss gave the okay for me to work while I'm out of the office during this time, so I log on to my work computer at the same time as I am checking for blog comments or checking out facebook.
5. While working, I'm also holding a brand new baby boy. Who gets this opportunity? Holding a baby while typing and getting paid? Please note that I am carefully keeping track of actual hours worked, so no timecard fraud here.
6. I'm hearing girl voices, playing, singing, chatting, plotting. ALL DAY LONG!
7. The day slides by, dozing, working, eating, napping, and sometime between 5:00 and 6:00 every night, somebody from the ward shows up at the front door with a hot, yummy meal. And because they're bringing in food, they make sure it is one of their best meals, so there is rice or mashed potatoes, chicken, salad, fresh green beans, and of course, homemade chocolate chip cookies* (see earlier mention of such for breakfast) or cupcakes with chocolate frosting and candy corn.
8. The evening rolls on with movie watching, rockband 4 playing, more girls laughing, doing homework, art projects, lots of children sitting on my lap and all around me. Also included are kisses, hugs, and I love you Gramma...
9. Bedtime comes with scripture reading aloud by all, prayer, and a race up to bed or begging dad to carry them to bed, and then it's quiet time and snuggling the boy baby until he's ready for another feeding and I'm ready to drop off back to sleep.
I do not know what I did to deserve this gig but it is the best, and really, who wouldn't love it?
2. I laze about, rise when I'm ready, and for a change, the time is an hour earlier than it usually is when I travel east for work. One hour earlier is much better than two hours later. Trust me on that.
3. I toast a bagel or toss back a handful of homemade chocolate chip cookies for breakfast. Or I drive Janey to preschool and stop at Starbucks for a venti nonfat chai and treats for those at home waiting.
4. My boss gave the okay for me to work while I'm out of the office during this time, so I log on to my work computer at the same time as I am checking for blog comments or checking out facebook.
5. While working, I'm also holding a brand new baby boy. Who gets this opportunity? Holding a baby while typing and getting paid? Please note that I am carefully keeping track of actual hours worked, so no timecard fraud here.
6. I'm hearing girl voices, playing, singing, chatting, plotting. ALL DAY LONG!
7. The day slides by, dozing, working, eating, napping, and sometime between 5:00 and 6:00 every night, somebody from the ward shows up at the front door with a hot, yummy meal. And because they're bringing in food, they make sure it is one of their best meals, so there is rice or mashed potatoes, chicken, salad, fresh green beans, and of course, homemade chocolate chip cookies* (see earlier mention of such for breakfast) or cupcakes with chocolate frosting and candy corn.
8. The evening rolls on with movie watching, rockband 4 playing, more girls laughing, doing homework, art projects, lots of children sitting on my lap and all around me. Also included are kisses, hugs, and I love you Gramma...
9. Bedtime comes with scripture reading aloud by all, prayer, and a race up to bed or begging dad to carry them to bed, and then it's quiet time and snuggling the boy baby until he's ready for another feeding and I'm ready to drop off back to sleep.
I do not know what I did to deserve this gig but it is the best, and really, who wouldn't love it?
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
some things change, some don't
There are lots of newfangled gadgets for babies nowadays.
But some things haven't changed. At least not so much.
Remember those sweet newborn baby gowns? Okay, no drawstrings anymore, but who doesn't love a baby in a gown?
Monday, October 22, 2012
this place i'm at
I wanted to get a shot of his hair...
I think I neglected to tell the story of this trip to California.
About a month ago, I was super-anxious. See, I got an email from Southwest Airlines several months ago offering a screaming deal to Oakland. I carefully considered the due date of the boy and the actual arrival dates of his sisters. I didn't want to arrive so early or leave so soon that I missed time with him. Or time helping around here. Or whatever it is that I do when a new grandchild arrives. So I settled on a date nine days before he was due.
And then a month ago, I started hearing (possibly in my extreme worrier head) that Jessie was going to deliver any day. At any given moment. She lives in San Jose. Forty-five minutes away from Oakland. $160 cab ride. A three-hour public transportation nightmare (if you're lucky). I fretted for two days and finally decided I'd rent a car for a day for $60. Then I calmed down and waited for the call.
But that girl of mine. That sweet girl. She waited. And then she drove to the Oakland airport--she the 9.75 months' pregnant one--and picked me up last Thursday afternoon. We spent the afternoon together with the girls, including a trip to Walmart where the 19-year-old clerk asked if we were sisters. I pointed out that he had just made my day and probably ruined hers. I'm pretty confident there is some clerk training that goes on in the retail community to encourage them to say things like that because they think that will encourage older women like me to spend more of our discretionary income there.
We had pancakes and bacon for dinner, and I totally impressed Cory with my Rock Band 4 singing abilities. Or maybe I impressed myself. Perhaps more of the Walmart ego boosting. Who can say, really, right?
Early the next morning, Jessie and Cory headed to the hospital for the birth of their boy.
I made several trips to the hospital and back, picking up girls, dropping them off at school and preschool, and at 3:11 p.m., sweet Leo arrived. Without going into a lot detail, I'm just going to say Jessie was incredible. I am in awe of her. One huge contraction at the end, three pushes, and he was born.
Oh, and she should only have to pay for half an epidural because that's how much she had when it was time to deliver the boy. Hmmm. Never trust an anesthesiologist who says he's been doing this for 23 years.
They came home yesterday. I've been here, in this place where there are girl toys and girl clothes, lots of screens and Apple products, a corner upstairs and another one in the kitchen devoted to art projects and creativity, plastic shovels and rakes out back, and now a room full of blue boy stuff, including seven pairs of little boy shoes. Seven!
I feel so lucky and blessed watching this family grow again.
About a month ago, I was super-anxious. See, I got an email from Southwest Airlines several months ago offering a screaming deal to Oakland. I carefully considered the due date of the boy and the actual arrival dates of his sisters. I didn't want to arrive so early or leave so soon that I missed time with him. Or time helping around here. Or whatever it is that I do when a new grandchild arrives. So I settled on a date nine days before he was due.
And then a month ago, I started hearing (possibly in my extreme worrier head) that Jessie was going to deliver any day. At any given moment. She lives in San Jose. Forty-five minutes away from Oakland. $160 cab ride. A three-hour public transportation nightmare (if you're lucky). I fretted for two days and finally decided I'd rent a car for a day for $60. Then I calmed down and waited for the call.
But that girl of mine. That sweet girl. She waited. And then she drove to the Oakland airport--she the 9.75 months' pregnant one--and picked me up last Thursday afternoon. We spent the afternoon together with the girls, including a trip to Walmart where the 19-year-old clerk asked if we were sisters. I pointed out that he had just made my day and probably ruined hers. I'm pretty confident there is some clerk training that goes on in the retail community to encourage them to say things like that because they think that will encourage older women like me to spend more of our discretionary income there.
We had pancakes and bacon for dinner, and I totally impressed Cory with my Rock Band 4 singing abilities. Or maybe I impressed myself. Perhaps more of the Walmart ego boosting. Who can say, really, right?
Early the next morning, Jessie and Cory headed to the hospital for the birth of their boy.
I made several trips to the hospital and back, picking up girls, dropping them off at school and preschool, and at 3:11 p.m., sweet Leo arrived. Without going into a lot detail, I'm just going to say Jessie was incredible. I am in awe of her. One huge contraction at the end, three pushes, and he was born.
Oh, and she should only have to pay for half an epidural because that's how much she had when it was time to deliver the boy. Hmmm. Never trust an anesthesiologist who says he's been doing this for 23 years.
They came home yesterday. I've been here, in this place where there are girl toys and girl clothes, lots of screens and Apple products, a corner upstairs and another one in the kitchen devoted to art projects and creativity, plastic shovels and rakes out back, and now a room full of blue boy stuff, including seven pairs of little boy shoes. Seven!
I feel so lucky and blessed watching this family grow again.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
then there were four
This girl is a trooper.
Pre-baby.
Post-baby...obviously...
These faces are priceless.
Friday, October 12, 2012
our kindergarten girl
Wearing the same shirt her mom wore for her kindergarten picture, that her gramma wore for her kindergarten picture.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
what would we do without children?
Jack and I went to a viewing of a dear man last night and a funeral of another today. Both were good men, lived honorable lives, left lasting legacies.
After the viewing last night, we stopped at IHOP for dinner. Jessie mentioned a fundraiser for a boy from her old neighborhood at her old local IHOP, so we stopped for bacon and pancakes and eggs.
The place was a zoo. Apparently all of her old neighborhood was there to support the ailing boy and his family--IHOP donated 20% of sales from last night to the family--and apparently everyone in her neighborhood has a bunch of kids who all wanted pancakes for dinner.
When our kids were younger we took them out for meals occasionally. We expected them to eat their food and behave themselves, you know, stuff like staying on the bench instead of under the table, that sort of thing.
Last night was hysterical at the IHOP. There were families everywhere. One mom was there with her three kids and she kept telling those little boys to get back under the table. Apparently the dad worked there and she was waiting for his break so he could join them. She was so patient. And the boys loved getting under the table.
Two other families had at least six boys between them, ages 5-7 I'd guess. The boys started a game of tag. In the restaurant. Around the tables, six little boys chasing and giggling, having a ball. The best overheard comment may have been: "Well now I have to put you in the sleeper hold."
Hysterical. I mean, where besides IHOP can you run around and hide under the tables and use the sleeper hold? Okay maybe McDonald's, but you can't get pancakes there for dinner, right?
There at the IHOP, last night, it was total kids having a good time with their friends, parents talking with their friends, everybody enjoying pancakes and bacon. And 20% went to a good cause.
I'm sure there was a time when all of that commotion would have been a bit distressing, or someone without children might have been tsk-tsking, but just not last night.
Something about fundraisers and funerals and families made it all very enjoyable.
After the viewing last night, we stopped at IHOP for dinner. Jessie mentioned a fundraiser for a boy from her old neighborhood at her old local IHOP, so we stopped for bacon and pancakes and eggs.
The place was a zoo. Apparently all of her old neighborhood was there to support the ailing boy and his family--IHOP donated 20% of sales from last night to the family--and apparently everyone in her neighborhood has a bunch of kids who all wanted pancakes for dinner.
When our kids were younger we took them out for meals occasionally. We expected them to eat their food and behave themselves, you know, stuff like staying on the bench instead of under the table, that sort of thing.
Last night was hysterical at the IHOP. There were families everywhere. One mom was there with her three kids and she kept telling those little boys to get back under the table. Apparently the dad worked there and she was waiting for his break so he could join them. She was so patient. And the boys loved getting under the table.
Two other families had at least six boys between them, ages 5-7 I'd guess. The boys started a game of tag. In the restaurant. Around the tables, six little boys chasing and giggling, having a ball. The best overheard comment may have been: "Well now I have to put you in the sleeper hold."
Hysterical. I mean, where besides IHOP can you run around and hide under the tables and use the sleeper hold? Okay maybe McDonald's, but you can't get pancakes there for dinner, right?
There at the IHOP, last night, it was total kids having a good time with their friends, parents talking with their friends, everybody enjoying pancakes and bacon. And 20% went to a good cause.
I'm sure there was a time when all of that commotion would have been a bit distressing, or someone without children might have been tsk-tsking, but just not last night.
Something about fundraisers and funerals and families made it all very enjoyable.
Monday, October 1, 2012
this thing i just figured out
I am a worrier.
How did this happen?
How did I not realize it sooner?
How can I still have any brown hair on my head with all of the worrying I do? No wonder I have the wrinkles and lines on my face, right?
Just today, I worried about my mom, Jack, my dad, my friends, Jack's mom, my grandkids including the boy who hasn't even arrived yet, Jr, Stu, and Jessie. A ton about Jessie. I worried about figuring out how to make sure I'm there, far away in California, when my girl is in the hospital welcoming her boy into this world. How do moms survive living away from their kids when the kids are in the hospital?
I also worried about a woman in Australia whose blog I discovered this weekend...she's had a boatload of hard times...I DON'T EVEN KNOW HER BUT I'VE WORRIED ABOUT HER FOR TWO DAYS.
My mom has told me for years that I shouldn't worry so much--if I can't do anything about it, I should just forget about it and let it go. But how?
What to do, what to do.
Wait. I think I'm worrying about worrying...
Crap.
Recognizing the problem is half the solution, right?
How did this happen?
How did I not realize it sooner?
How can I still have any brown hair on my head with all of the worrying I do? No wonder I have the wrinkles and lines on my face, right?
Just today, I worried about my mom, Jack, my dad, my friends, Jack's mom, my grandkids including the boy who hasn't even arrived yet, Jr, Stu, and Jessie. A ton about Jessie. I worried about figuring out how to make sure I'm there, far away in California, when my girl is in the hospital welcoming her boy into this world. How do moms survive living away from their kids when the kids are in the hospital?
I also worried about a woman in Australia whose blog I discovered this weekend...she's had a boatload of hard times...I DON'T EVEN KNOW HER BUT I'VE WORRIED ABOUT HER FOR TWO DAYS.
My mom has told me for years that I shouldn't worry so much--if I can't do anything about it, I should just forget about it and let it go. But how?
What to do, what to do.
Wait. I think I'm worrying about worrying...
Crap.
Recognizing the problem is half the solution, right?
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