Toxic Behaviors Link

Link to: Toxic Behaviors & needing validation

6 behaviors addressed in the article:

1. Taking everything personally
2. Obsessing about negative thoughts
3. Treating yourself like a victim
4. Cruelty, lacking in empathy
5. Excessive reactivity
6. Needing constant validation

The Happy Meal Syndrome

     How many times, and in how many varied venues, has the Happy Meal Syndrome (HAMS) been experienced? Too many to count! Happy Meals entered into American culture June, 1979, just 10 months prior to the birth of our first child. Our son was introduced to the meal at a young age. Here is the repeated experience we had with Happy Meals:

• Our son pleads for a Happy Meal, and we buy him one. The excitement piques our son's senses, like a bungee jump rush, with adrenaline that dynamically detonates
• The colorful box, special toy, and princely meal delights him. Maybe he feels way, TOO special?
• After about 20 minutes of heightened senses and eating (our McD's had no playground), our parental heads-up begins: We'll be leaving in (tick-tock) 10 minutes... 5 minutes, etc.
• At departure, he experiences deer-in-the-headlights delirium. He wants MORE!

     This scenario created unbearable backlash and nay-ing. Symptoms included spooked, egocentric, bucking-the-parents frenzy. We may have over-responded, but official Happy Meal purchases ceased; we dreaded the un-happy outcome. A burger and fries with no colorful box and no toy sufficed.

     The Happy Meal Syndrome begins when one feels de-stabilized, with hijacked sensory processing. It can occur following a (positive) adrenaline-filled event--feeling hyper-important and wanting MORE; or, it can occur during a (negative) flight-or-fight, fearful situation--feeling helpless and wanting CONTROL. A Sunday 5:00 p.m. flat tire, leaving two women stranded, miles from home, on a busy highway, combined with soon-approaching darkness definitely brings out fight-or-flight.

     In retrospect, I see that our parental responsibility was not to altogether omit the Happy Meal experience. We instead needed to teach awareness of the signs... of early piqued sensory stimulation and triggers. We many times referred to Dr. Dobson's, The Strong-Willed Child, reading it cover-to-cover. It helped for setting boundaries, but oh, to have had the enlightening Internet. Our boy somehow survived and is now a man with true character.

     The inspiring movie Secretariat portrays a calming HAMS moment. Leading into the poignant conclusion, Secretariat owner Penny Tweedy nervously awaits the next morning's Triple Crown Race. She meets with her adored stallion, lovingly stroking his mane. Horses have a keen sense for their handler's emotions and can easily become spooked. Races can be won or lost on the spook-factor. Tweedy knows this, and rather than conveying to Secretariat her desire for him to win, Tweedy speaks the unforgettable, reassuring, calming line (learned from her late, very wise father): I didn't give up... I've already won!... I've run my race, now you run yours.

     Tweedy expresses her faith in Secretariat, no matter the outcome. The race is already won for her, in intangible, others-ways.

The PEN IS Mightier Than the Sword

True Tot Story  Names are changed to protect the not-so-innocent:

     Scrub, scrub, two mischievous young tikes in a tub. One is Daniel, the other Grace. Says Daniel to himself, Wouldn’t it be fun to pee?

     Up Daniel stands, and out comes a lemony stream; and better yet, onto sweet Grace.

     Tee-hee, pee-he, on me!! thinks Grace.

     Sweet Grace won’t be outdone. Up she arises, and out comes her lemony stream.

     A stereo of tee-hees... as Mommy/sitter sees… the urine-trouble bubbles of sweet Daniel and Grace.

Synchronized take-away:  
1) Two wrongs do not make a right, and 
2) The PEN IS mightier than the sword.

Top-10 Reasons Why Babies Teethe, OR, Why Newborns are Toothless

     To all mothers with dark circles and droopy eyelids, a question to ponder at 2:00 a.m. Have you ever wondered why babies experience painful teething? Why did God create newborns toothless and primed for pain?

     The top-10 "imagine a world with toothed newborns" list:

• 10- Pregnancies would last 12 months, or longer, to develop those choppers. Imagine the stretch marks and spider veins
• #9- Womb acrobatics would multiply due to in-utero teething escapades
• #8- Pregnant women would have two fears: 1) labor and 2) midnight womb shark bites
• #7- Umbilical cords could be bitten off in the womb. Some curious fetuses would figure out how!
• #6- Newborns would need the coochy-coo warning: Biting risk
• #5- Newborns might need dental specialists, $$$$
• #4- Hazardous bites could happen to weary, nursing new moms
• #3- Busy babies and toddlers would require less cuddle time. Noooo!
• #2- Special bonding time for patient Mommys and Daddys could decrease, because babies and independent toddlers would have fewer urgent needs. (Bonding is tiring, but priceless.)

• #1- For some reason Baby Freddy Krueger and crazy-cray bats come to mind. 

     Maybe scary bats were created by God as a vivid reminder to weary new Moms and Dads: Newborns are simply cuter toothless!

Longaberger Basket for Markers & Such

Easy access to markers and such for my grandchildren is a necessity. This Longaberger basket camouflages and organizes our little artists' drawing utensils. It is "out-of-little-hands'-reach" in a convenient corner of my kitchen. I have main control of the items and convenience, too.

Years-ago-used-but-not-now Tupperware cups provide separate compartments for: washable markers, non-washable markers, pens, crayons, and colored pencils. Each cup easily slides up and out to remove for tabletop use.

Mobile & grand-friendly counter top storage

Tupperware cups neatly separate different drawing utensils for little artists

Individual cups can be easily removed for use at a table

The 3-Child Difference

Link to: The 3-Child Difference

Royal Guests? or Wee Royal Hosts

Silver-streaked hair, achy joints,
Dry skin, nose hairs, warts,
And maybe even brain burps.

Immaculate house, shiny bathrooms,
Order, calm, peace,
An echo in the hallways, glaring and obvious.

But soon, and not for very long,
Special hosts we Will be,
To pint-sized, junior guests,
To hug, to entertain, to feed.

The moment arrives, as do two smiling little brothers,
With them is boisterous noise, cartoon bee-bopping, chatter,
Ice Ninjago, birds, beta fish, and snappy Sammy Snake,
Jacked-up-and-down playing and jibing,
Maneuvering colorful, interlocking blocks.

Younger brother's Duplo exploits,
Clumsy, yet sensational for his single-year age,
Infectious laughter,
Even during quiet-time, Pack 'n Play confinement,
And his toddling walk...

At times riling, but, too, most beguiling.

The complex charm of the grand,
We are the entertained,
Somehow places are switched, a close juxtapose,
We embrace being honored guests,
Of wee royal hosts.

Alas, even fun can create weariness,
After a few days the mind log-jams,
Brain strain, to be concise.

Like an overload of plethoric electrical items,
With enough current to pop a circuit-breaker,
On a massive mental scale.

Like an interstate highway, deadlocked,
An overcrowded parking lot,
All thought channels, blocked.

Artful swirls

Abstract idea juggernauts,
A desperate need to focus,
Something. Anything. For dinner, churn, churn,
Take-out? or lasagna? How about home-made pizza? Sure.

One eager and artful helper,
Morphs duty into fun,
An elfin-like crumb-snapper; a salivating chef,
Takes the lead, and follows, too,
Like a strutting Duck Dynasty Samba dancer, swirling and maybe synchronized.

Spread tasty sauce... And why not slurp a spoonful or two,
Sprinkle crumbled hamburger... Go ahead, consume a handful or three,
Drop clumps of grated cheese onto the pizza ... Don't forget to eat some cheese, too,
Fistfuls of prep munching,
Maybe too many fistfuls...

At times riling, but, too, most beguiling.

The complex charm of the grand,
We are the entertained,
Somehow places are switched, a close juxtapose,
We embrace being honored guests,
Of wee royal hosts.

                                                                                                    DeRachel

Hebrews 13:2
Be not forgetful to entertain strangers [or grandchildren]: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.

Link to: YouTube DWTS Duck Dynasty Samba

Fresh Prince Carlton Dance
(Behind-the-scenes giggle: @2:30 Alfonso moves so vigorously, he experiences a groin pull that plagues him for the next 2 weeks)

DWTS Too Good to be True Foxtrot Sadie & Mark

Extended-Stay Company Tips & Character

     A wise motto says: People are more important than things... which segues to my evolved and proven motto: People sometimes add minor blemishes to things like my dining room table, and those blemishes add... CHARACTER (thanks, Sheri, for that liberating perspective). 

     My grandson's grimy finger prints are immortalized. His Christmas 2012 hand print is forever located on the lower portion of my master bathroom's full-length mirror. If Hollywood can have its Walk of Fame, so can I. His personal touch is charming and priceless.

     When 2 grown children visit at the same time, for consecutive nights, bringing 1 husband, 2 young grandchildren, and 2 dogs, my "character" philosophy is keenly tested. When possible, I attempt to be flexible with family and guests. They are out of their comfortable surroundings and, here and there, need little conveniences. 

     Here are a few easy and practical ideas we recently used for our younger-&-older, long-distance, extended-stay guests:

• Breakfasts: Ask, ahead of time, your company's eating preferences for breakfast: cereal, caffeinated drinks (tea, coffee, soda), and juice. For example, my brother preferred crockpot steel cut oat cereal, which made four mornings of breakfast a breeze (click for recipe): Crockpot steel-cut oats. Scrambled eggs and smoothies are also hardy, easy preps.
• Contain baby items: To keep grand baby
  
  items available yet contained in the kitchen (medicines, formula, etc.), pretty counter top storage is handy. We were able to easily move my daughter's "stuff" during busy food prep. This worked great for mega-multi-tasking Thanksgiving morning. 
• Washing baby bottles: For bottle
  
  items to be safely washed, purchase an inexpensive dishwasher container for straws, and bottle tops and nipples and a bottle scrubber. Keep them stored under the kitchen sink as helpful, year-round dishwasher tools.
• Sippy Cups save the home: Sippy cups are rug- and furniture-savers. A set is stored in my cupboards.
• Barrier Gates & Strategic Kitchen Cabinet Latches: These barriers protect curious toddlers and help adults to enjoy their time together. A stair gate, or a weighty ottoman, with a wood board wedged in front of it, for a stair barrier might save an ER visit.
• Pack-'n-play sleeping nursery: A folded Pack-'n-play stores easily in most closets. Be creative but safe with baby's sleeping quarters (we used our master bedroom's ample closet). (Disclaimer: Two of innumerable safety precautions: 1) make certain there is no possibility of items falling on baby from shelves above or reached by baby, AND 2) we carefully mounted my daughter's baby monitor for continuous safety and clear viewing...to repeat, use wise caution for precious bundles). I performed 3:00 a.m. bottle feedings 2 of the 4 nights. My daughter was able to easily monitor baby the other 2 nights from her sleeping quarters.
• White Noise: With lots of people comes lots of noise. Three tabletop air purifiers are in my home for sleeping babies and adults.
• Extra Bath Tissue: With extra people comes extra use of toilet paper. I store extra rolls in each bathroom.
• Visiting dogs: 

  

  Dremel Rotary Tool for dog's nails & crafting

  To protect our wood floors and furniture, I own a handy Dremel rotary tool. My son trims his dog's nails when he arrives (it's also great for small craft projects throughout the year). Our son brings a large crate for his two dogs to be contained in overnight. The dogs are crated in the utility room. (Disclaimer: Our wood floors do have character).
• Dogs, cont'd: 

  

  Four Paws pooper scoop

  We own a Four Paws brand pooper scoop for the backyard; and, because our backyard is not fenced-in, two stakes with tethers. The pooper scoop is an easy-to-use life-saver, helping to keep shoe bottoms clean post-backyard activity. And, after our company departs, a backyard trunk stores leashes & a few grandchild toys. For barking or other dog disruptions, the nearby Petsmart reasonably saved one of our family time experiences, providing peace-providing pet-sitting.
• Dining Flexibility: Our round dinette table's leaf is hidden under a nearby couch. It is super handy for retrieval or storage when expanding or compressing the table.



Ikea sugar dispenser

• Miscellaneous: 
• Ikea's inexpensive sugar dispenser is a hit for my son-in-law's Dunkin' Donuts Hazelnut coffee fixes. With a mere tilt, it dispenses 1/4 teaspoon of sugar; no measuring required. To see a helpful way to display tea bags and other kitchen ideas, simply click this link: Kitchen organization tips
• Cups are easily seen and available when they're hung on a mug tree. The pictured [Longaberger brand] tree sturdily holds a variety of stylish handled drinking cups and coffee mugs. 

  

  Longaberger Mug Tree

• Toy Battery Tips: Grandchildren = increased need for toy batteries. I own a battery tester. In a pinch, if a toy needs AA batteries but none are on-hand, AAA's can be used instead; and, C's can be used for D's. This link explains how: AAA batteries + aluminum foil = AA batteries

      In no way do we strive to be Martha Stewarts nor claim to be the ideal hostesses; but, thoughtful touches here and there are sanity savers, injury-preventives, and house savers. Planning adds peace during hectic times, and they are appreciated by guests as adults strive to temporarily mutually mix as a family.

C.l.a.s.h. of W.i.l.l.s

Mutual fun, or folly?

     What happens when three strong wills collide, with three opposing ideas, for mutual family activity? Add to the mix a sugar high from birthday cake and striving to weary the wired.

     The untrained eye dismisses or overlooks brief mutual moments; but, this writer rehearses a common 4th of July weekend activity. It is the perfect recipe for seizing mutual, especially during the merely imaginably dramatic (no Dramamine required), family game play event ... C.l.a.s.h. of  W.i.l.l.s.

     I hope the boys are old enough to enjoy the bean bag toss game. Could you get the game out of the car's trunk?

     JJ cooperatively heads to the car. Our 3.5-year-old speaks few words as he shadows. The trunk pops open, and a huge box is carefully maneuvered out of the back of the car. A young mind begins to whirl, What dat? He asks.

     It's a bean bag toss game, replies JJ.

     An "enervatively" resourceful mind quietly whirs:  It's as big as me! If it's for the yawd, it must be fun. I'm weddy for a climbing game!

     The box's rope handles allow for somewhat easy transport of a very klunky item. JJ carefully sets it onto the backyard driveway and pops open the hardware, splitting the box into two halves. He takes the first box, pulls down its legs, and situates it.

     WOW! It's a slide. I can't wait to get on it!!

     JJ lifts the second box and walks, meticulously counting aloud one, two, three... 30 feet. He stops, bends, and pulls two legs downward to set up a second structure. It looks just like the first.

     Whirrr, spins one active little mind: Hmmm. I'm wong. They awn't big enough to be slides, so no climbing. How can I play wit dese... wamps!?!

     Now JJ grabs a netted bag, Do you want to take the bean bags out? You toss them into the big holes.

     Ohh. Dat's what makes the wamps fun! Stand on one wamp and thwo a bag to the udder one, thinks a young mind. Hmmmm. That's a loooong way to thwo, but standing on the wamp will help!!

     You're not supposed to stand on the wooden box. You'll break it.

     DeDe and Nana arrive to the backyard, just as the clash of wills begins. DeDe adds to the mix a third clash and exclaims, Those boxes are way too far apart.

Note that wise Nana speaks not a word, observing how this Sumo wrestling match plays out.

     Professor JJ states: The boxes are supposed to be 30-feet apart.

     Out-of-the-box-thinker DeDe replies: Only an adult can throw a bean bag that far. Let's scoot them closer together. (DeDe eagerly heads for one of the boxes, excited for her family to finally play the pricey game).

     He'll break the box. It's too thin for standing.

     If he breaks it, we've had the game more than 5 years and used it only once or twice. I thought that even our 1-year-old could have fun dropping the bags into the holes and climbing on it. Just see what happens, and let's finally play this game.

     Our 3.5-year-old holds claim to the box-dubbed-ramp. He stands on it and throws one bean bag and then another. JJ stands at the opposing "ramp" (literally opposing, because their wills continue to clash)... JJ calmly holds his ground, determined to use the "natural consequence" approach, When I toss the bean bag, it's going to hit you if you don't get off.

     No.  JJ won't hurt me. I'm staying on this wamp!

     Thunk! JJ's bean bag harmlessly hits once, then again, right in the chest. Protective DeDe says, JJ!

     ...and thinks to herself, Noooo! Don't hit him!!! ♫Ain't no mountain high...; ain't no valley low...; ain't no river wide enough, to keep me from♫ .... rescuing our grandson (Diana Ross). But I'll not advertise, that at this moment, JJ and I are anything but in agreement.

     Instead, DeDe watches as a somewhat startled expression appears on our little guy's face. He flinches and wobbles a bit, but holds his quiet ground for another minute. Because ramps are for standing and playing. But maybe these aren't ramps after all. A few more harmless bean bag thunks finally change one determined little mindset.

• Our wee-verbal and sugar-high little guy, unfortunately, had mega-resourceful thinking-time between transport, game set-up, and game-time to create in his own mind an interesting way to play. The structures definitely resembled small climbing ramps. 
• Professor JJ and "outside-the-box" DeDe had their own clashing differences, and could have dramatically stomped away irritated with each other. 
• Three wills clashed but grasped mutual. Somehow, we ultimately, mutually and creatively, conquered dissenting views. Ten minutes of bean bag "toss it underhand" play was priceless. Even the toddling birthday boy worked up a sweat during the activity.
• At the onset of clashing wills regarding DeDe's game, wise Nana deferred, to mutually-minded observation rather than rescue mode.
• We all mutually worked to "LIKE" [one way or another] whatever activities our 4th of July weekend family times encountered.

The End

Sherlock Holmes: The Case of the Twizzled Hornet

     As we deal with an asthmatic and hacking 3-year-old on a struggling Sunday morning, I zone into my home church's live online sermon addressing the trials of life. When that providential message concludes, I decide to empty the dishwasher; whatever it takes to feel grounded and steady. I earnestly attempt to help my daughter control something, anything as we deal with a real-time life trial. This is meltdown morning and Day 13 of Dad's lengthy, back-to-back, out-of-state business trip. I arrived 16 days ago to lend a hand, and we look forward to Superdad's return home, 3 forever hours away.

Twizzled

     Mom deals with her son's stressful tantrum, pushing 5 minutes. She's learned that in this type of situation, spanking is ineffective and actually fuels the fire. Winter 2014's cabin fever is at its peak. His tantrum is illogical and somewhat Albuterol-enhanced. The life-saving prescription inhaler has a dark side. It heightens his intensity with uncontrollably shaking hands and repetitive nonsense.

     I prayerfully restock cups, plates, and utensils into their cabinet cubbyholes. Then, I open a booby-trapped cabinet door and CRASH! A large Corning ware lid falls onto the counter-top, shatters, and glass shards fly everywhere. My first thoughts are: No way! My desperate prayer is answered with more chaos? This is NOT what we need on an already crazy morning! And I've ruined my daughter's lid.

     To my surprise, the kitchen's sonic boom actually jolts our 3-year-old into sanity... he returns from battling the Land of Oz's Wicked Witch back to peaceful Kansas.

     My grandson's digestion is intolerant to certain foods and toxins, with milk, wheat and mold the worst offenders. Within minutes of drinking a glass of milk, his demeanor can change, for no logical reason and in an instant.

     I recall his adorably mischievous gaze reading sleep time's Curious George and 5 Little Monkeys books. Those eyes and his sweet "DeDe" melt my heart, even in the midst of Chicagoland's chilling and snowy Polar Vortex. In a sudden moment this Sunday morning, those same eyes glaze over, combined with a penetrating, relentless, twizzling (circular), perseverating (repetitive) mantra that dizzies his Mom's sanity. We ask: Is there a food or toxin fueling his inordinate and illogical mindset?

     A few weeks ago, those cues are what prompted my alert daughter to believe that we are dealing with one determined little boy unwittingly laced with hi-jacked food intolerance. It will take trial-and-error and a patient, courageous Mom and supportive Dad to manage their precious little one's diet. Little by little, my daughter will study more books and cook homemade sprouted wheat pancakes; she will buy almond milk and almond yogurt; she will use the snow method to sterilize area rugs and wipe down questionable window sills; she will blend healthful smoothies with hidden cinnamon-flavored fermented Cod Liver Oil. It is a complicated Sherlock Holmes mystery that I dub: "The Case of the Twizzled Hornet."

     Worthwhile endeavors and challenges can strengthen us. It is extremely difficult to see "good" in the midst of trying dramas, and especially this one. To a minuscule degree, I compare it to the nightmare of breaking a Corning ware lid. We had an overwhelming, tornado with which to deal. We wiped counters, swept and vacuumed, and then meticulously hand-wiped the floors on our hands and knees. We kept our eyes peeled for residue (gratefully spotting a few missed nuggets and microscopic shards). Today, as I finally finalize unpacking and laundering, I'm shocked to discover a large glass shard in the pocket of the sweater I wore that morning (which I know I did not put there). Glass, indeed, flew to Oz and back.

     In retrospect, good did come from the sonic boom. It gave us critical incentive to thoroughly clean the kitchen floor's nooks and crannies for newly-crawling little brother; and, big brother was instantly jolted back to reality. The day mellowed. Fortunately, the base for that lid had broken years ago. We tediously, and little by little, cleaned up a wild and dangerous kitchen. We patiently took possession of the situation AND ended up with this possibly fortuitous (unplanned and random) confessional for our M.D.I.M. (Mother.Daughter.Insanity.Memoir. a/k/a Missing.Dad.Insanely.Memoir.)

     Our Sherlock mystery continues, and one could never imagine the goings-on in young parent homes on Sunday mornings. The link below, to the vintage Phil Donahue Show, contains insightful footage of a young boy hijacked by food intolerances as well as key information. The outcome gives us hope as we believe in and love a very good God.

Vintage Phil Donahue Show Reveals Mysterious Food Reactions

The Sound of Music & Mutual

     An entertaining park walk, with valiant gaggling geese that either condone or condemn two angry, cockfighting gander. A high-pitched and shrill car alarm subsides the cackle commotion. And then there's the whip-whirl-twirl chirps of a cardinal. Depending on one's body-clock perspective, he provides either peaceful music or agitation to early morning hours. 

The booming birthday boy

     In our sleepy bedroom we recall Fourth of July sounds. Fireworks, the sneaky kind that shoot from the ground, with high-pitched whistles and scary bangs minus sparkle; hours of evening sonic booms and "Ladybug rockets," with unpredictable and scary trajectories. Fourth of July festivities brightly ignite the skies of the soul. Yet, there is a quiet, tucked-away place in the master bedroom, a strategic buffered cocoon, protected from hours of booming skies and quiet fireflies... for one sleeping birthday boy. 

     Pierced screams of the now fully-awake one-year-old, direly awaiting the grasp of close-range, brightly-colored, helium-filled birthday balloons. Impatient joy changes to synchronized tears of not just one, but two children. The Birthday Song is noisy calamity as helium balloons readily and gently hover, and then comes mutual, clasping glee.

     Scoooore! televised cheers fill the air. Thunk. a bean bag misses the circular hole. Soccer championships, backyard games, grill-time's sizzling meats, and mealtime chatter all convey the sound of music... and mutual.

     Mothers-in-law Mutual. Sharing children, grandchildren, laughter, and rare moments together. It is unnaturally... natural. Round, and round, and round sounds go partnered with distinct, meaningful memories. 

Pass On The Left

     As I walk an 8K, the happiest pre-schooler, riding what looks like a new scooter, approaches on the opposite side of the park's paved path. He should continue to head straight, staying on his side, as we pass each other. No problem: but instead, he takes extra effort, intentionally crossing over diagonally, to my side of the paved path. I see the whites of his intent eyes. He heads directly towards me, like he's gunning me down, seemingly crazed.

     A mutual moment occurs as paths prepare to collide. Excuse me, he says...

     The other side of this story, "Joey's" letter-of-the-law perspective, is shared for mutual understanding...

     Joey's parents promised him months ago that for his 4th birthday they would buy him a scooter: Joey, a scooter is for big boys, but they can be dangerous if you're not careful. When you ride a scooter, you must wear a helmet.

     Over and over conversations about scooters and helmets are replayed. Finally, the big birthday arrives, with scooter-riding fun on the front sidewalk, and Mom says: Since Daddy will be off work early today, let's meet him at the park to show him what a big boy you are. The park's long sidewalk is perfect for scooters.

    In the car, Joey's excitement is written all over his face. Are we there yet?

     Almost, says Mommy, and she reviews the scooter rules: Big boys wear big boy helmets. Other people will be on the path, and you will be moving faster than they walk. It is very, very important to pass people on the left, and big boys are polite. Big boys say excuse me. Which is your left hand?

     Joey raises his left hand many times, practicing during the car ride. With helmet in place, Joey is ready to show off for Dad: Don't forget to pass people on the left. Which is your left hand?

     Up raises Joey's left hand. He's ready for the open, forever long speedway. Joey's foot becomes a speedy motor. Wow, this scooter moves f.a.s.t!! 

      Passing alert!! Mommy said there would be other people on the path, and here's one coming towards me on the other side. It'll be tricky to cross over and pass on the left side. I'm a big boy. Pass on the left. My left hand is this one. Got it!  The lady is coming, coming... closer, closer, closer... cross over... I see her surprised eyes... She must also be thinking I'm a very big boy! Just wait until she hears my polite...
   
     Excuse me, he says.

     I quickly zag left to dodge a head-on collision.

     Joey's heroic thoughts? Mommy and Daddy will be so proud of me!

     He happily proceeds along, with no attempt to slow down. This bewildered walker wonders why he was drawn like a magnet to my side of the path?

    His parents see the dire look on my face, and they apologize, never predicting that in obedience, Joey would misunderstand. That he would use extra effort to cross over and almost gun down oncoming pedestrians to pass them on his left!

    Joey reacted opposite of mutual natural. Obedient to the left, but he wasn't right...

     Mutual take-away:

• Principles outweigh rules
• Two wrongs do not make a right, or left: and,
• Crossing over to the other person's perspective affords me to offer grace (Paradigm shift, Stephen Covey, 7 Habits).

Mustang Moment

    Ka-zing, -zing... -zam! My grandson's pulverizing death ray shoots through the computer screen as we Skype. Inspiration randomly comes to me, to exit when he zings. The glee in grandson's widened eyes is evident as he energetically giggles... DeDe!!

     I pop back to the screen, and JJ joins the entertainment. Our 3-year-old is ready for rounds 2, 3, 4, etc. as both grandparents exit the screen when ka-zinged. His arcade-like, repetitive nature is fed, and we non-verbally communicate interest in his world. What is our ultimate goal? To chat with our daughter.

     That is just one brief and treasured Skype session. It ends as my lips approach the screen's microscopic camera to send a smooch-kiss with: DeDe loves you!


     It is more than worth our repetitive zinging play when his garbled ...wove woo... boomerangs back, with a responsive and reciprocated smooch kiss.

    This simple playtime with our treasured little duckling probably won't be remembered by him years from now. He's too young. But, there is another who views our grandparental yielding "Mustang Moment."

     ...our dearest daughter might remember, and hopefully she feels our endearing love, for her.

Proverbs 22:6
Train up a child in the way [s]he should go: and when [s]he is old, [s]he will not depart from it.

The Land of Swan

The Land of Swan... & colorful peacocks

     A tender "yield" moment in the (somewhat cheesy and predictable) movie, The Princess Diaries, hits my vulnerable Achilles heel. It is a warm, relationally colorful, grandparent-to-grandchild connecting moment that can almost be missed by the untrained eye. 

     The unexpected death of gawky Teen Mia's physically absent and long-distance father (and unbeknownst to her, the Prince of Genovia) creates tension. Mia must choose to either remain a commoner, or opt for a microwave-speed, ugly-duckling TO graceful-swan, transformation. 

     Does indignant, tomboy, frizzy-haired, braces-laden, clumsy Teen Mia want to be royal? No way! Queen Grandmother's recent, first-ever, face-to-face introduction into Commoner Mia's American life, combined with swan stressors, is ripe for relational deep-freeze. Mia does not feel like a princess, and she's failing in every way.

     Rather than creating a larger grand-gap, the busy yet endearing Queen clears her schedule. She keenly senses her granddaughter's feelings of inadequacy, discouragement, and Princess rigors. She understands that relationship equals T.I.M.E., and the fun factor has been sorely lacking. Queen Grandmother intentionally chooses "the important over the urgent" [Covey] combined with the warm, extended-hug, bigger-picture-approach:

"Let's have fun together...

will you be my San Francisco tour guide?

Yielding MUSTANG MOMENT: ...alright, Mia, we'll take your

undependable, treasured, vintage MUSTANG."

       Queen Grandmother not only chooses to invest time, she also communicates selflessness. Spending time with Mia is important, but she concedes to an unexpected extra. It is the figurative bright red cherry on the ice cream sundae; the green pepper topping on the pizza; the color-popping free wax protection with a car purchase; the Mustang Moment. She agrees to ride in Mia's undependable, jerky yellow Mustang, driven by her teenage granddaughter, chugging up steep San Francisco hills. 

     The Mustang Moment speaks yielded royalty. Queens deserve safety. They warrant chauffeured, luxury cars. (At times, it seems that we "grands" deserve our comforts and royal preferences, too.) Instead, Throughout the uncomfortable and daring Mustang experience, she bends, but her royal light never breaks.

A yielding (germ-sharing) toothbrush moment

      The Queen's "yield" broadcasts vulnerability, understanding, humility. Her tender Mustang Moment unleashes my blubbery, all-consuming, ugly cry. Did her treasured little duckling successfully navigate: THE LAND OF SWAN? 

     And, on a personal note, will this DeDe healthfully model meaningful yet tasteful yielded "Mustang Moments" to her ducklings, and others, revealing Savior God (Jesus)? 

Matthew 5:13-16: 13 You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. 14 You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your [royal] Father in heaven.

The Grand Factor

     In a Today Show segment, a Boston College study shares intriguing findings that I label, The Grand-Factor. Their research concludes that: "Grandparents and adult grandchildren who are close are both less likely to be depressed." The positive effect is mutual, for the grandparent and the young adult.

     A grandparent helps the young adult to have a link to someone who has "been there & done that; survived; and come out on the other end." Active, surviving grandparent(s) who give back rather than just being cared for benefit from the relationship. Accept grandma's family china set when she offers it; show grandma or grandpa your resume.

     In the movie The Vow (based on a true story), the Grand-Factor is absent, but would have been beneficial. A traumatic head injury leaves young Newlywed Paige with no remembrance of Husband Leo. Her parents, sister, and high school buddies remain distinctly in Paige's memory banks, except for one critical and pivotal piece of family history. Five years previously, her dad's humiliating affair, with Paige's high school buddy, propelled her to sever all ties with family, as well as any law aspirations... and pursue her creative side.

     If anyone needed the Grand-Factor, didn't devastated Paige as an older teen? To have a caring, loving, and close idyllic "Grandparent Walton" with whom to openly PRESENT... her anger, sadness, and tearful humiliation? She needed someone connected, yet balanced... to simply listen and nod his or her head as Paige shares: Doesn't Dad know how humiliated I feel? All of my friends know! How could he do this? I HATE him!! It offends me that Mom stays with him!!!!!!!!

     After a prolonged, brutally honest conversation, an endearingly familiar "game" would begin, for Paige to absorb a special Grand-Factor commitment: Did you know that I love you, Paige?... more than... chocolate-covered strawberries?

     In turn, Paige may have warmly responded with her favorite childhood retort: "You are the best. I love you... more than... apple pie!"

Sun Catchers & Pot Bling

     Layer cheap plastic beads in cake pans (no lining required) and melt at 400F. Warning: The plastic smell will be strong, so open windows!! Cook for @ 15-20 minutes, and remove from the oven before the plastic bubbles. Let cool, & then just flip them out. Drill a hole to make a sun catcher. A quick internet search for "sun catchers" will give extra specifics.

Pink "bead" flower
adhered to a wooden chopstick

     OR, a great "craft" idea for kids...  to make as a gift for grandparents or teachers... or as a grandparent/grandchild activity: small flowers or stars for plant pots (use a glue gun to adhere to a Popsicle stick or a wooden chop stick) or create coasters. Children can choose colors and arrange them in a metal cookie cutter. Bake in a toaster oven 400F @ 5 minutes on the back porch, to minimize plastic odor in the house.

Tremendous 2's & Two's

      Two-year-old boys will be tremendous boys. During a rare -for-me grandchild-sitting opportunity, our dare-devil plays ball on the steps, is clearly and fairly warned DANGER, to no avail. I snatch the ball and unsuccessfully try to distract him. He tearfully demands the ball back. DeDe is a softy, but when it comes to grandchild safety issues, I do not yield. I pray for him under my breath, and he eventually points upstairs, seeking binky-time, which equals crib timeout. 

      We take the long climb up the steps together, to his room, to claim our sides of the ring: He takes the crib; I the nearby rocker. Hearing his squeaky, binky calisthenics, I know he needs consoling...

      ... DeDe loves you...

      I begin to remind him of our morning activities, and mention his hands and feet and nose, and then... we imagine tickle tummy together; I giggle energetically, and finally he breaks his silence, giggling too. After 10 minutes of happy-therapy, for both of us, we hungrily head downstairs to eat PBJ's.

      We eat, he studies me, and I keep mostly quiet. After a nourishing sandwich and milk, it is nap time, so we head right back upstairs. I place him into his crib, and he earnestly stretches his arms to me. He trusts me to rock him. I do. After a few minutes I feel his muscle-twitches as he, uncharacteristically, snuggles in my lap... falling sound asleep. Ahhh, priceless.

Flower-powered two fearlessly face the bloomin' tremendous 2's

      Timeout (a/k/a exile), heartache, and clashing wills happen and produce an urgency to seek some sort of closure, and we also need to feel comforted. Life can be painful; it is unfair; we feel hurt by people... and sometimes we even feel hurt by God. How do we respond?

The Heart: 2 Tickers & 1 Teapot Time

My heart says of you, 'Seek his face!'...

Heart Ticker #1:  During a recent amusement park visit, a Mom and a Dad with 3 young children are in a quandary at the elephant ride. Each young child must be accompanied by an adult. My husband observes as the poor little 3-year-old breaks into tears. Because there are just 2 adults, he (and none of his family) will be able to ride the longed-for, colorful, flying elephants.

This sounds odd, but my wife is riding one of the elephants, solo. She would be glad to accompany your little boy, my husband says.

The family energetically agrees. It leads to me riding with a stranger. I let the little boy choose the red elephant, although the purple one was my preference. I follow his lead and gladly enjoy his red elephant world. I let him press and release the magic flight button for us both. I say, Up, up, up! and then Down, down, down!

I learn his name, Tate, and that he recently had his third birthday. That is all as we enjoy his little world. We fly in circles on red Dumbo, and Tate presses the lever to go up, up, up and down, down, down.

Heart Ticker #2:  My youngest grandson is a bulldog physically. To wrestle a diaper onto his in-motion body takes courage and strength. Each evening he enjoys his bath-time, reaching for everything in sight. When he daringly stands in the tub, it is time for the towel-dry cycle. Maybe he can air dry and go to bed naked tonight? Nnnaaa! The battle is on.

We head to his bedroom for the Sumo diaper wrestle. Tonight's strategy is to distract, be fast, and voila! I haul him to the rocker, take a few deep breaths, and successfully set one towel-dried, diapered, and pj'd 10-month-old onto my welcoming lap.

He is finally somewhat still as I reach for the book Baby's Colors. On this particular long-distance visit, 4 evenings in a row I read this same book to him. Tonight when he sees the book, before I even begin to read, he turns his expressive face to me with a delighted look. As page one is opened, using energetic, high-pitched baby talk, I read aloud, Baby!Sees!Red!!!

Again he turns to me, eyes wide, and his entire body giggles. With each page, he eagerly reacts the same as I enter into his exciting little world of red, yellow, blue, green, orange and pink.

Teapot Time:  I drink tea all day long, every day. It is no exception during my visits with long-distance grandchildren. My pot of tea steeps throughout the day. My grandson knows this and recently maximized on the idea with a thrift store purchase of a Fisher Price teapot with two tea cups. As he tips the pot, the realistic sound of pouring tea occurs. "DeDe, outside... tea!!"

A 3 1/2-year-old wants company and enters into my big adult world of tea time. He knows my love for it and draws me outside with him to the front porch step. Never mind that pretend tea time lasts only mere minutes. I embrace it. Then bug searching time begins. That's alright.

"DeDe, ...outside... tea!"

It melts me every time, and I respond. My grandson's heart seeks my face and he joins my tea time. I'm there. On the front step. Sipping tea with him, and then I watch and help him as he searches for roly polys and ants.

...Your face, Lord, I will seek (Psalm 27:4,7-8). 
And then, won't God, too, intuitively help me to uncover those most intriguing bugs?

This parallel sounds overly simplistic as I shift thoughts to ask: Do I initiate time with God and attempt to enter into His big world? or, Does my little world of endless requests take over? What partnering image ["teapot"] emerges for mutual "tea time" with THE One who loves and knows me better than any one ever could?

A Tale of Two Manger Scenes

Neighbor Joe's Manger Scene

     Two cherished and vintage Christmas photos help to share the sentiments of the following heart-warming Tale of Two Manger Scenes. The first manger scene is in Neighbor Joe's front yard. I planned this shot long before my long-distance grandson ever arrived for the holidays and never imagined it would be such an enchanting experience.

     It is dusk, with gentle snow flurries. We are babysitting our little guy, with only one more visit day remaining, and daylight is quickly slipping away. I need to get THE shot: Jeff, it is so beautiful outside. We must get that manger scene picture at Joe's, today and now!

      We quickly don warm coats and shoes. Our front steps are snowy, so we cautiously proceed, holding hands. Will the pictures be as good as I had hoped? Photographer Jeff snaps the photos as we carefully wipe snow off baby Jesus. I love it.

     This second manger scene picture has a totally different story. My grandson was drawn to this manger scene rather than being led to it... it was hidden in my bedroom... basically for nostalgic purposes... for me. It is an olive wood manger scene from Jerusalem that Mom gifted to me 25 years ago, and he discovered it and connected with it, naturally. He returned to my darkened room every day, two or three times a day to hold the figures, knock them over, and play... he chose to love his great-grandma's sentimental manger scene. See the train he added? Surely there was a train in Jesus' manger.  Love, love it.

LEGO Connections

     The Lego Group began in the workshop of Ole Kirk Christiansen (born 7 April 1891), a carpenter from Billund, Denmark, who began making wooden toys in 1932. In 1934, his company came to be called "Lego," from the Danish phrase leg godt, which means "play well." It expanded to producing plastic toys in 1947 (Wikipedia).

     Connecting one block to another, to another, and to yet another to build cars, trucks, planes, skyscrapers, etc. is the fascination of and hunger for Lego sets. Budding carpenters, architects and others "play well" and will hopefully develop early skills to transfer to varied careers.

     Building Lego cars and fortresses with our grandchildren (or playing house, fishing alongside them, reading or watching soccer together, etc.) builds an intangible quality; genuine, fun, and safe relational connections of grandchildren with their kindred adults. Two generations connect and learn what really is important. We learn what makes them tick, and they apprentice what makes us tick.

A mere 463-piece Lego set, for connection-enrichment?

     My children's long-distance Grandma (my Mom) valiantly tried, but we lacked connecting prowess. Motherhood for me was overwhelming. I basically endured each day. I didn't know to be nurturing for my children.

     Sabbatical time, grandchildren, and surviving torrential HER2/Neu positive breast cancer have afforded me rare and intense appreciations. By the time my grandchildren were born, I was able to begin to practice real affinity. I finally understood what loving a child in a nurturing, healthy way was supposed to feel like.

Legos & such take up a small space in the office corner
Click for how-to of Legoland in the corner

     Time.Opportunities.Appreciation. I connect first with myself, and then endeavor to connect deeply with others to savor kindred relationships. Letting go determines Lego connections:

• Managing rather than micro-managing. I add decorative yet child-friendly items to the corner of my husband's home office to invite generational interaction, naturally.
• Discovering rather than hovering. Some items, like the manger scene below, are most fun when grandchildren naturally discover them in the master bedroom.
• Natural as opposed to contrived. Intentional yet not intense... that seems impossible, but isn't. 

      A little ahead-of-time planning helps to create mutual connections.

Place an unbreakable nativity set. Somewhere on the sidelines.
For children to discover, naturally (John 3:16)

Deuteronomy 6:7
     Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. [N.A.T.U.R.A.L.]

     Mothers-in-Law Mutual mutually strive to develop natural connections and Jesus teaching times. My children and grandchildren can't catch from me what I don't got.