Spiderman Learns to Share

Spiderman (3 years and 4 months now) and I venture out a couple of mornings a week to various places about town where he can let off some steam, release his pent up energy and interact with other kids his age. Granted, being with Papa and Nana for an entire day is just too much fun but he does need to get out among his peers. 

One of his favorite spots is the local library.  Not because he wants to read a book, although we usually pick up a couple of train books for later. Nor is it because he wants to attend storybook time with all the other kids and their Moms, Grandmas, Nannies and a few Dads and Grandpas. That is just way too structured for him - at least at this point. Instead, he makes a bee line for the small tunnel leading into the children’s book area, crab walks through on all fours and follows the railroad tracks in the carpet to the train tables in the back of the room. There is one large and one small table cut down to his size so he can kneel while he plays. Wooden railroad tracks have been glued to the table tops along with bridges, tunnels, hills and watering stations for the trains. The engines and freight cars are all small enough for Spiderman to place in his hand. His first task? - to accumulate as many train cars as he can carry. Keep in mind Spiderman is not the only one at the train tables. There are usually anywhere from 5-10 other kids also focused on this magical world of trains. And all want the same thing.  This is just the way it is and the way it will always be. And all parents or grandparents (myself included) say the same thing. I can actually hear myself forming the words - 

”Spiderman, please SHARE”, which is usually followed by “Johnny SHARE please”, Amber, you have to learn to SHARE”! You can almost see the gears in their heads turning, puzzled, listening to all the adults. One of these days they are all going to shout in unison: 

“Will you just let us deal with this ourselves? We got this. Just go back to drinking your coffee and checking your Iphone.” (Followed by high five’s all around!)

I am sure you have heard a million times “that’s mine” coming from your children and grandchildren. “That” is may very well be his or hers and their friend who is over for a “play date” wants that amazing toy too.

But quite often it is not his or hers. It “belongs” to someone else. And in environments like the local library, it belongs to no one. It is a common property. Now just think how a child of 3 processes the concept that every toy in the room belongs to no one AND everyone! I try, I really do try to put myself in his shoes, but there is no way I can fully appreciate what is going on in his mind. If I was him, I would probably go after anything within arm’s reach too. 

This is one area where I have noticed a change in Spiderman over the past 12 months. Last year the word of the day (hour, week, month, etc.) was “Mine”. He liked it, it was his. Very natural. 

One of the other places he likes to go is called The Yard. It is a large indoor play space that has 4 soccer fields with artificial turf, a large play room with inflatable bounce houses and rooms for them to jump, as well as lots of balls, slides, tricycles, etc. You would think that with all these things to do and toys to play with, everyone could have their “own” toy and therefore, there would be no disagreements. Ha! We are back to the “I like that - I want it - I must have it - I will take it - thanks - bye” approach to the playground. (There is really no “bye”, they just run the other direction with the toy.) Sometimes I think it might be a “king of the hill” kind of thing going on. But I think it’s probably just a basic child behavior. I like that - I want it. As simple as that. 

But recently I observed Spiderman doing something that showed a changing attitude. Spiderman likes to play with a small plastic grocery cart. He races around this big room from one end to the other without any other particular goal in mind. It’s a speed thing. And it’s his cart. He would see it as soon as we entered the large room and as I was taking his coat and shoes off he would point to “my cart” and dash to claim his prize. 

One day a boy younger than Spiderman was crying because he had been with playing with THE CART and decided to play with something else. When Spiderman picked up the cart and started to do his thing, the other boy burst into uncontrollable tears. To my amazement, Spiderman stopped in his tracks, wheeled the cart over to the boy and with a picture of concern on his face, offered the cart to the boy. I could have stood up and shouted to all the parents in the room - did you just see what my grandson just did? The two boys proceeded to play together with the cart for next 20 minutes, laughing and smiling like two long lost friends. (This is another phenomenon that I find so endearing with kids this age.)

I was, and am, so proud of Spiderman learning the delight in giving and sharing. I think his parents probably had a little something to do with that. 

A lesson for us all.

Grambo is Coming!

You may think I am biased and you would be right. I am very proud of our daughter, Beth, for many things but particularly for her dedication and love of writing, especially children's stories. She is the person, in fact, that I look to whenever I have questions or guidance when it comes to writing.

Grambo is Beth's second children's book (thank you Be There Bedtime Stories) and I see the growth in her style and story. I love her idea of challenging stereotypes by having the main character, a grandma, as a spy. I know a number of "grandmas" that are young at heart and spirit and who actually could be spies now that I think about it! Intriguing to consider.

Having a secret code as part of the experience is a great idea - perfect for a children's "spy" story. It gets the  young reader even more involved in trying to solve the puzzle. It's a story that a child will enjoy reading over and over. And the illustrations by Betsy Hamilton add so much for the reader to vividly see and embody the characters and the story line.

I think your child, grandchild, niece, nephew or friend of the family will enjoy Grambo.

Grambo will be available on Amazon starting March 26^th! Help get Grambo on the Amazon bestseller list on launch day!

Here are prizes when you buy on launch day March 26:

Buy four or more books: You get one more book free! Plus the prizes below.

Buy three books: You get an 8X10 Grambo illustration print autographed by the illustrator, plus the prizes below.

Buy two books: You get a gift certificate for one Be There Bedtime Stories online book, plus the prize below.

Buy one book: You get a discount! (It will already be shown on the amazon link.)

To receive your prize, email your amazon receipt to grambobook@gmail.com  by April 15^th with the address where you’d like your prize. You will receive it by June 1^st  2014.

Thank you for supporting young, talented and dedicated writers.

FIBIGO

When I go shopping I like to have something specific in mind for the hunt and my approach is simple - Find it, Buy It and Get Out (FIBIGO).

The idea of meandering about a store or a mall window shopping waiting for that elusive moment of discovering the perfect gift or item for myself is shear madness. Anyone else with me on this one? For those that find this activity relaxing, fun or even inherent to life itself, god bless you and keep on trucking. After all it's great for the economy. And if in someway it nurtures your soul....who can argue with that.

But for me....it's FIBIGO!

There is one place where this approach will not fly. Ever been to IKEA?

The name IKEA is derived from the founder's initials and hometown in Sweden. But it could also be -   I Know Everything Already.

Whenever I make a trip to IKEA I know two things for certain:

1.) I have to order their swedish meatballs with lingonberry sauce, which I don't really believe is horsemeat - well, at least not in the U.S.), and

2.) FIBIGO is toast.

I do give them some credit for providing maps throughout the store to make sure customers know where you are (red dot indicating "you are here") and the location of the departments to explore. Explore is the operative word. Every time I make this trek I feel like I should be wearing Asolo TPS 520 GV hiking boots, a Grivel Freney 50 Backpack (made from heavy duty ECOFABRIC complete with butterfly frame system and a hip belt that has zippered pockets for accessories and wraps aroudn your hips with ergonomically shaped air foam) and a supply of energy bars and water. There is no way of telling how long I will be "in there".

I would be willing to bet a complete MALM desk set that "Mr. IKEA" spent a lot of time in a casino or two in Las Vegas or Monaco. Casinos and IKEA use a similar design principle - absolutely no straight paths across the structural space. And those "short cut" signs - I think I finally figured out that they really just take you back to the office furniture that you passed 20 minutes ago.

Red Dot - "YOU ARE HERE"

No, actually I think I am in the twilight zone.

I knew I should have left some bread crumbs to find my way back out.

I MAZE

I SURRENDER

I GIVE UP

I 'M LOST

IKEA

What was it I was looking for again?

Smirker The Brave

Adults can learn a thing or two from children if we just take the time to pay attention. Smirker, now 4, has been through a lot over the past year. Just 9 months ago she woke up in the middle of the night with a pain on her right side, pointing repeatedly to the same spot. In most cases, we all would give her a hug and try getting her back in bed putting it off as too much rainbow sherbet before bed or perhaps not wanting to go to school the next day because her BFF wouldn't share the My Little Pony Pinkie Pie Train Set. She will be fine.

But she was persistent and insisted that her mom take her to the doctor...the doctor! You should know, she does not like doctors. That got her parents attention. Several hours later she had an emergency appendectomy. Luckily it had not burst, which truly amazed her experienced surgeon. So much so that he had his interns feel the "red hot chili pepper" before surgery. She came through like a trooper. We dropped everything and flew out the next day to do what we could do to help during the recovery. A week later, we took her back to the surgeon to have the heart shaped bandage on her navel removed. The doctor told her she could help peel it off. Apparently, his approach was a tad too slow for Smirker. She proceeded to rip it off with a big smile. Voila! Can I go home now? We were all astonished at her courage. Not just in taking off the bandage but through the entire healing process. She met fear and pain with such resolve and bravery. I am sure it helped to have lots of loving, caring people around but this petite 3 year old taught me and the rest of us how strong we can be.

Turn the clock ahead 8 months (30 days ago) and it was time for another test for this little one. This was planned, however. She had always had large tonsils and was an epic snorer. She must have some of Napa's genes - sorry, Smirker. So we made a trip to the surgi-center for the procedure. Everything went very well, despite the fire alarm going off during her surgery! Thankfully it was a false alarm. Recovery  was slow and although I have not experienced getting my tonsils removed, I knew it was painful and uncomfortable. She did not feel like eating much. Ice cream and popsicles - the "staples" during recovery - were just too cold. She would eat mac n cheese at the drop of a hat but it might as well have been a bowl of glue for all she cared. She wanted to eat but just couldn't. And yet she never complained.

Then something extraordinary took place. I had picked up lunch for all of us. Smirker as usual didn't feel like eating anything but wanted to sit on my lap while I ate my salad. She immediately took my fork and began to feed me, forkful after forkful, until it was all gone. Well...gone may not be the appropriate word. More like - no longer in the bowl. Some actually made it into my mouth (it was very good, I think) but I was virtually surrounded by lettuce, chicken, asian noodles and cheese. She was so proud of herself. And I was proud of her. She didn't think about what she couldn't do but rather making sure that I was taken care of. It was like she was vicariously getting her nourishment by helping me. Maybe, just maybe, she understood what all of us were doing to help her get better and she was returning the favor. I am going with that. In any case, it was wonderful seeing a smile on her face as she forgot about her sore throat for just a few minutes.

It's been a month since her surgery and she is back to her cute, sharp and sassy self. She taught me a lot about her...and about how all of us should face adversity. Thank you, Smirker.

Oh...and no more snoring for Smirker. Love Monster, her sister, is so happy. And her mother is as well, although she did feel compelled to place a mirror under Smirker's mouth at first, just to be sure - but then, you know how Mom's are.

As for Napa and his snoring - I have no plans to get my tonsils out at my age. Sorry, hon!

Jose can you see....

Batman, our 10 month old grandson, loves music. His mother always sings to him and it seems to soothe his soul. Lullabies to get him to sleep, of course. And he can't help but like the broadway show tunes she is so fond of singing. I can just hear the first words out of his mouth (after Mama and Dada) from Thoroughly Modern Millie:

Jimmy, oh Jimmy, silly boy Gee, what a real swell guy Jimmy, oh Jimmy, oh what joy He makes my troubles fly

Of course, he uses his real name as his mother does in place of Jimmy. I can see the delight in his parents eyes now. He’s going to be a star!

But I can also picture him belting out the first part of the National Anthem. When he was maybe 5-6 months old, for some reason I would start to sing The Star Spangled Banner for Batman when he was unhappy. 

“Oh, say can you see...”

He would stop crying immediately, looking intently at my mouth, and burst into a big grin when I got to “see”. Maybe it was because I was naturally smiling when I said the word.

“By the dawn’s early light...” and he “lights” up again. 

I finish the entire anthem and his anxiety seems to have disappeared. Now I am not always 100% sure I got all the lyrics correct but then who can. I see how performers at big events mess up the words. It’s just not that easy, especially if you let your mind start to wonder. But he doesn’t seem to care. He is happy. If he starts to cry again in a few minutes I would simply start again and he would smile and settle down until I finished. I don’t think I could keep this up more than a few times but it does tide him over until his bottle or food is ready. And I want to keep it special. 

Do you remember as a kid hearing the National Anthem? Maybe it’s a guy thing (no, I am SURE it is a guy thing), but we used to sing it as - “Jose, can you see...” Was it because that’s what we thought was being sung before really understanding the lyrics? Or was it just young guys trying to be funny?! Perhaps a combination of both. 

It reminded me of our daughter when she was very young. One Christmas she got a card that had a big mouse on the front, smiling. It’s name was Squeaky. All we had to do to get her to smile was to hold the card up and she would break out into a huge grin. Squeaky saved the day many times when it came to family pictures. She now has it on her Christmas tree. Never quite sure what it was for our son as he always seemed to be smiling - complete with closed eyes and dimples. 

It’s funny what triggers a small child to smile. With Spiderman it’s trains and a trip to the bakery for his favorite cookie with green sprinkles. For both Love Monster and Smirker it is rainbow ice cream, ANYTHING related to My Little Ponies and candy.

What is it that makes your child or grandchild smile every time? 

No matter what thing or song or place makes them smile, they save their biggest smiles when their parents, grandparents, friends and teachers greet them with kindness and smiles. That’s what it is all about!

Keep on smiling!

Grandpa goes "Back to the Future"

As I look into the eyes of our four grandchildren, I wonder how they see their grandparents. What is going through their minds when they hear their parents say they are off to to see Papa and Nana H (in the case of Spiderman and Batman) or Napa and Nama for Love Monster and Smirker?

Spending more and more time with all of them, I began to think back to many, many years ago when I was a grandson, the oldest of 3 boys. The anticipation, memories and feelings of traveling to and spending a few days with my grandparents have not faded with the passage of time. And the Christmas season always tends to make me reminisce even more about those wonderful times and those special people. I was fortunate that both sets of grandparents lived in the same small town in northeastern Iowa. A 6 hour drive on two-lane highways in a station wagon with no seat belts. Can you imagine 3 boys standing right behind their parents demanding "are we there yet?" about 50 miles into the trip! Now those were the days. Our visits were either for Thanksgiving or Christmas and once in the summer when my Dad was taking a break from the classroom. My parents, of course, were looking forward to seeing their parents and in-laws but the 3 of us were bouncing-off-the-wall ready to see both grandpas and grandmas, and our Auntie Maude as we called her.

We always arrived at my Mom's parents first - down the alley and up the driveway to the back of the house. We spilled out of the car and raced up the stairs to the back door and there they were, ready to greet us. But first, we always had to open the small pull down hatch next to the storm door where the dairyman would leave the milk bottles. Once in the door, we had to check the inside hatch. How cool was that. You didn't even have to go outside to get the milk. Now that tells you how long ago was. Then we hugged grandpa and grandma and settled in to catching up over sugar cookies and Ovaltine (well, maybe not in the summer). Oh, and grandma always served breakfast with her famous sugar cookies. "This is the life."

We boys always had the attic room - up the enclosed staircase in the middle of the house. We thought it was ginormous! And it had all these small rooms to explore off the "great" room at the top of the stairs. It was our private hangout. Grandma M would take us to his Mobile "filling" station to see the cars being worked on in the shop and to watch him chat with everyone that came in for a fill-up while he washed their windshield and checked their oil - for free...without being asked! Like I said, it was a different time. He was a serious man and tried to keep us in check as much as he could. Grandma M, on the other hand, doted on us without reservation. Grandpa M loved meal time when Grandma M would fix his favorites. He was a true Iowa meat and potatoes man. I can still see him sitting at the head of the table and Grandma M next to him with her ubiquitous apron wrapped around her waist tending to everyone's needs before her own. She kissed us with her lips folded in, which seemed different at the time but we loved it anyway. She was a very sweet lady. We played football in the back yard at Thanksgiving, often in the snow but that never bothered us. We were young and knew the warmth of their house and their arms awaited us after we finished running ourselves silly. In the summer, we lounged in their screened in front porch, taking turns on the swing and the long couch and sipping lemonade grandma M brought us before we could even ask.

The next day we drove over to Grandpa and Grandma H's house "way"over on the other side of town. I bet it took almost 5 minutes to get there! Grandpa H was a tall, thin man with a grin always on his face.  He had tattoos from serving in the Navy. The really cool one was the dagger on his forearm that appeared to go under the skin and back out. He wasn't as proud of them later in life. He always wore long-sleeved shirts even in the heat of the summer. Momentos of a prior life. He could be strict in his own way but was a very funny guy, given to telling jokes and stories. He worked for the railroad, which was the town's primary employer, and traveled all over the world at times. He even spent a couple of years in Alaska. Grandma H was a tiny woman, with a twinkle always in her eye and also a mind of her own. She didn't go with Grandpa to Alaska. "Too darn cold!" She played the organ in the Presbyterian Church. We were amazed at the sound coming from the organ delivered with skill from those wee person's arthritic hands. Remarkable. She was a dear.

Then there was our Auntie Maude. (She loved Jonathan Winters as we all did - Maudie Frickert). Everyone should have an Auntie Maude - maybe you do. She was not married, and never would be, s it turned out. But she was the life of the party and had a lot of great friends. She also worked at the railroad - paid the time sheets for the engineers, conductors, etc. She had some great stories about her run-ins with some of the workers. she also had a very strong will and spirit. The 3 of them together had tornadic discussions - we enjoyed them anyway. We didn't stay up late at Grandpa and Grandma M's as they turned in early. Maudie, on the other hand, was a bit of a night owl. We loved staying up watching movies and eating popcorn with Maudie. She introduced us to scary movies (much to the chagrin of Mom and Dad) like "The Four Skulls of Jonathan Drake". Seeing it again years later we thought it was actually kind of cheesy, but in our grade school years it was creepy!

Breakfast and Grandpa and Grandma H's house was a treat. Grandpa H loved his donuts (who doesn't) - powered donuts were his favorite. So we dined on OJ, cereal and donuts while listening to the local radio station and making our plans for the day. One of our favorite haunts was the Mason's Building, where Grandpa H was a High Falootin' Grand Muckety Muck or something like that. Their titles were hilarious. We thought it was a "secret society"of some kind. It seemed mysterious to us anyway. He would don his fez and drive those little go-karts around in the Independence Day Parade. Grown men! He was cool. And then there was the an old oak billiard table in the basement complete with laced leather pockets. It was huge...and beautiful. I am surprised none of us ended up as a pool hustler like Minnesota Fats. Ah, the sharp strike on the balls as they rolled quietly across the felt. Magical.

Those were wonderful times. Our grandparents were special and did what grandparents are destined to do - love their grandchildren beyond words and provide memorable moments that we remember to this day. And we loved them back - and still do. Thank you Grandpa and Grandma M and Grandpa and Grandma H. You helped shape us to this day. (Auntie Maude had a hand in that too!)

Reflecting on this special relationship I had with my grandparents, I only hope that we, as grandparents, can provide the same lasting impression in Love Monster, Smirker, Spiderman and Batman. Every moment with them is precious and we look forward with great anticipation for each new adventure along the way.

Oh, and there is that patience thing too.

Wishing all you grandparents a very Merry Christmas.

A Smitten Spiderman

I think my  2 1/2 year old grandson likes older women!

Well, there is, of course, his Mama and 2 Nanas, but that is not really what I am talking about. By older I mean 6 years of age. When you are 16 - it's puppy love. When you are 10 - it's a crush. At 2 1/2, smitten seems to be the right word. Whatever you might call it, there was definitely something going on inside Spidey's brain at the park one day this past summer.

His usual interaction with other kids at the playground can best be described as a passive acknowledgement of their presence. He has a sunny disposition so smiling at the other climbers, sliders and swingers as they pass each other is just natural. And they will occasionally challenge each other about who goes down the slide first or who's turn it is to swing, but like many other things at this age, those encounters are short-lived and soon forgotten. But there's not much else in the way of conversation at this age. They are all just too busy expending energy, much to the glee of those watching over them on that day, including me. Energy = fatigue = nap time = time for grandpa to read a book.

However, on this warm, July morning at the playground a "vision" appeared to Spidey out of the blue and everything else in his world stopped. SHE had long pig-tails and was wearing a yellow t-shirt adorned with menacing dinosaurs. As she ran towards the play area where he was standing he didn't take his eyes off her. Uncharacteristically, he boldly walked up to her, waved and said, "Hey, hey, what are you doing?" I think he was actually in her space! At first I thought it was the T-Rex on her shirt. It was only after he proceeded to follow her every move throughout the large playground that I began to think it had nothing to do with a budding interest in Paleontology.

I watched him in awe. What a move. Way to go Spidey!

No matter where she went, including all the equipment built for 5 year olds and up, there was Spidey in hot pursuit. He struggled at times climbing in places where a 2 1/2 year shouldn't be but he was not letting anything slow him down. (To Spidey's Mom and Dad - Just so you know, I was not sitting on a park bench with a cup of coffee all this time enjoying the encounter. I was right behind him or under him making sure his mission was not creating a safety issue.) It was like I wasn't there. His focus was on the yellow blur dashing about the playground.

At one point, she walked up to him and said, "I will be right back" and ran over to her grandmother on the other side of the park. As she ran away, he actually stood there, head bowed, arms at his side and seemed very sad. He said to no one in particular, "Where did she go?"
It was very cute.

When she returned, knowing that she had an admirer, she said to Spidey, "I am back." and ran off. He perked up immediately and, yes, was right behind her. As she was climbing out of a tunnel near where I was standing she said to me, "Is he going to do everything I do?" She was on to him. I said, "probably". She sighed and asked me how old he was. I told her and she said proudly,
Well, I am 6!"

While she rested a moment, Spidey seized the moment and said with a great deal of bravado, "Watch!" He then pulled himself on to a table as if he he had made it to the summit of Mt. Everest, stood up and - I am not kidding - raised both arms over his head jumping around like Sylvester Stallone at the top of the steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum in Rocky and said, "Look at me." It was awesome. Who is this kid? The girl-in-the-yellow-dinosaur shirt looked at him then looked at me. Not quite sure what she was thinking. Perhaps a little impressed and maybe just a little incredulous.

And then she was gone.

Spidey watched her go. What was he going to do? Will he run after her? Will tears stream down his face?

Nah! He ran to the slide and did a couple of chin-ups at the top before whooshing down. Landed on his feet and was off to climb the wall.

He is after all 2 1/2.

Just another great day to be a grandpa.