OK, let's see. I've had my diaper changed, I've had my breakfast, and (as she looks around the house) now what?
I know, I'll take all the videos out from around and under the TV. After I finish that, I'll take all the clothes out of my drawers and throw them around the room. While Grandma is putting the DVDs and wii games back, I'll throw all the folded laundry on the floor.
When she's finished re-folding all the clothes that were in my drawers and all the laundry that was folded on top of the table (silly Grandma, she put it way too close to the edge), I'll go to the pantry and take out all the food. I might even pour out all the cereal. That sounds like so much fun. Except for one thing – the vacuum – it scares me. What to do? What to do? What the heck, I love seeing all the cereal fall out of the box.
OK, what else? Ah, I see that Grandma has a headache, so this might be a good time to pull all the pots and pans out from the cabinets and bash them into each other and onto the floor.
What's happening? Grandma is limping over to me holding a ball. YAY! I love playing ball. OK, two minutes is way too long. I'm bored already. Time to make another mess somewhere.
OK, while Grandma is cleaning that up, I'm going to sneak into my Mom and Dad's room and see what havoc I can wreak in there. Just LOOK at all the supplies they keep under the sink! This could keep me busy for hours.
Oh, no, here comes Grandma again. Will that woman EVER leave me alone?
PROTEST! PROTEST! Grandma's trying to put me down for a nap – in the middle of the day! I am kind of tired though. Nigh Nigh! (yawn) I'll have the whole afternoon and evening to finish my day!
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Oh, gee, what shall I do today? I know. I'll watch TV. I might even make a marathon of watching as many episodes of American Dad, The Cleveland Show, or Family Guy that I can fit into a day. I wonder which one would annoy my grandmother the most.
Probably doesn't matter. Listening to the theme for The Cleveland Show over and over and over and over and over and over…ad nauseum should be enough to send her over the edge.
Then I'll make myself something to eat. I won't pay attention to crumbs or spaghetti sauce that plops all over the stove, the microwave, or the counter. I'm sure somebody will clean that up.
Mom and Grandma should be grateful that I throw stuff in the garbage at all. Of course, I don't notice that the garbage is already overflowing with other garbage, so I'll just throw it in the general direction of the garbage and somebody else will pick up whatever makes it onto the floor.
After I see Grandma twitching from over stimulation because of my endless repetitive TV choices and after I watch her aggravation at having to experience what she refers to as endless torture, I'll play with the new wii she got. You know, to give her a break. After she calms down, I'll have another marathon so she can listen to another theme song over and over and over and over… .
And tomorrow? Another day – another marathon. And when I complete all the series of all my favorite TV shows that Netflix offers, I'll start from the beginning and watch them all over again.
Grandma's note: I was laughing as I wrote this blog, because when I told Jeremy I was going to write it, he laughed too, as I walked him through his day. Oh, I forgot to mention (because I promised him that I would) that he walks around the house on his toes. I think he was probably a ballerina in a previous life. In this life he is already showing great promise as a brilliant (and creative) writer.
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I was born in a hospital that no longer exists. After years of listening to my mother complain that I must be from another planet, I have my suspicions about whether or not that hospital even exists. The hospital was supposedly located in Chicago. At least that's what my birth certificate says.
2. Were you named after someone?
My mother's best friend, Theresa, decided to change her name to Terry, which is what I was called by friends and family until I entered school, at which time my mother told me, "You will now be called by your REAL name, Theresa." I realized then that I had been living a lie. My whole life was a fake. For years I never wanted to be called Terry ever again, but now I kind of like it.
3. If you have children, how many do you have?
Here's a question for which I absolutely know the answer. Four.
4. How many pets do you have?
Sadly allergies prevent me from having any :(
5. Your worst injury?
Hmm, either all the times I fell up the stairs and injured my shins which now consist of one long scar running down both legs, or the three times I fell down the stairs and landed on my back, or the one time I fell down the stairs and broke my toe. Then again it could be the two times I closed my car door on my head while I was still outside the car and I had to get stitches both times.
6. Do you have a special talent?
My creativity causes me to see patterns other people don't see, but I'm not sure if that's a talent or an affliction.
7. What's your favorite thing to bake?
Clay. Not for eating, but for jewelry.
8. Favorite fast food?
I'm not a fan of fast food, but if I had to pick, I would say tacos.
9. Would you bungee jump?
Absolutely, but it would have to be over water, because hitting concrete would cause immediate death, whereas drowning might at least allow for someone to save me.
10. What is the first thing you notice about people?
Body shape and then eyes.
11. When was the last time you cried?
I can't remember, but usually horrific stories of child abuse bring tears to my eyes.
12. Any current worries?
Mostly I'm just concerned about my kids, grandkids, great grandkids, parents, siblings, etc., but I am morbidly concerned about money, money, money, money, money, money…
13. Name 3 drinks that you drink regularly:
Water, water with lemon, water with ice.
14. What's your favorite book?
I have too many favorites, so I'll go back to the first book that impacted me so much, I read it 3 times – Norman Vincent Peale's The Power of Positive Thinking.
15. Would you like to be a pirate?
Huh? Where did this question come from? One of my grandsons calls his privates his pirate, so no, I don't want to be a pirate.
16. Favorite smells?
Lilacs, hydrangeas, freshly bathed babies (oh no! when I was editing this blog for errors, I read freshly baked babies – hope you didn't read that), Opium (the perfume, not the drug), and holiday dinners.
17. Why do you blog?
Blogging appeals to my short term memory and my attention deficit disorder. I can finish one before I forget I'm working on it.
18. What song do you want played at your funeral?
Greensleevesby Jeff Beck! Over and over and over again, because it's short.
19. What is your least favorite thing about yourself?
The disgusting flab that attached itself to my midsection sometime during midlife. I'm sure it came by way of aliens (perhaps they know what happened to the "hospital" I was born in). But I plan to attack it with my new Zumba Core wii game and by Skypercising!
Compassion, empathy, a nonjudgmental attitude, a GREAT sense of humor, creativity, the ability to tolerate me, and a touch of WEIRD!
22. Name something you've done that you never thought you'd do:
Well, I never thought I'd live to see 60, but here I am a year and a half beyond 60.
23: Favorite fun things to do?
Laugh, talk with friends and family, laugh, visit friends and family, laugh,and my new fun thing to do – play with the wii, and laugh!
24. Any pet peeves?
Oh, YES! Read 23 Pet Peeves About RUDE PEOPLE. If you find a bunch of ads covering part of the text, it's because Yahoo! is having a problem, but they promised to fix it.
25. What's the last thing that made you laugh?
Usually things that make me laugh include something to do with my grandchildren. I blog about them a LOT in My Heart Blogs to You. Last night was no exception. Here is my Facebook post: While choosing a mii for our wii, Jeremy, Audrey, and Nolan (3 of my grandchildren) stood in front of the TV leafing through their options – hair, nose, eyes, etc. During Nolan's turn, Nolan got distracted by Jeremy, and I needed to make dinner, so I shouted out, "Nolan, pick your nose." That got everyone's attention, including mine.
And there you have it, the answers to those 25 questions. For my Tag! You're It! I'll contact some of my blogging friends on Facebook! If I don't contact you, but you want to participate, just email me :)
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My grandson, Jeremy, lives with me and his mother. Three of his cousins (some of my other grandchildren) were visiting a few days ago and stood outside the bathroom waiting anxiously for Jeremy to get out of the shower so they could play with him.
I explained to Audrey and Nolan that it sometimes takes a long time to use every last ounce of hot water, but I let them know that they could play with him when the hot water ran out, because that was Jeremy's cue to get out of the shower.
I learned about Jeremy's shower habit the day I announced to Jeremy and his mother that I was going to take a shower. Jeremy took that as an invitation to immediately jump in the shower, because what he heard was, "I'm taking a shower right now, so make sure I have no hot water, OK, Jeremy?"
There I was, completely lathered in shower gel when the hot water ran out. My usual ten-minute shower became one minute and I had no choice but to rinse myself off with cold water and wash my hair in the sink after I had enough hot water. The devious part of me was tempted to turn on the hot water in all the faucets in the house the next time Jeremy took a shower, but I wouldn't have to (read on).
Jeremy reminds me of my sister, Kathy. When Cindy (my other sister) and I were young, we learned early on the exasperation of trying to take a shower after Kathy took hers. We'd get one minute – maybe – before the water ran cold.
The second Mom told us we had to take a shower, Cindy and I would scramble to get in first, because we knew that if Kathy, whose bedroom was across from the bathroom and therefore closer to the bathroom, got in first, we had no hope of ever taking a hot shower. Like Jeremy, Kathy feels she is clean only when every last drop of hot water has fallen from the shower head.
So Audrey and Nolan waited for Jeremy to get out of the shower, and long after I knew he'd used every last bit of hot water, I, too, began to wonder what was going on.
Audrey echoed my thoughts, "What's taking him so long?"
Jeremy hasn't perfected the timing of our hot water limits. He had waited until the end of his shower to shampoo his hair.
I called out to him to find out what was going on. "I'm waiting for the hot water to come on again so I can get the shampoo out of my hair."
"You're not going to get any hot water for at least another twenty minutes," I told him. And then I couldn't resist saying, "Now you know how I feel when I have to shower after you!"
Maybe I'll run the dishwasher or a hot load of laundry the next time Jeremy takes a shower. No! I would never do that, but it tickles me to think about it. :)
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Nolan is a sweet child, always making presents for loved ones. He gets out his little crayons and scissors and cuts and pastes masterpieces for everyone he loves.
I see him engrossed in his artwork where tiny pieces of colored paper fall to the floor around him. Paste, covered with marker and duct tape, sticks to my table.
He uses whatever is at his disposal to make his gifts and when he is finished, he hands his creative items to recipients who fawn over them as if they are Rembrandts.
He is also one who doesn't shy away from the kitchen. He'll whip up chocolate syrup peanut butter sandwiches for the entire family at 8:00 a.m. just to be nice.
So when Nolan's father, who had been feeling ill the past few days, mentioned more than once that Nolan needed a haircut, Nolan (being Nolan) thought, "I'll do something special for my dad."
Nolan's Gift for His Dad (that's hair on the milk gallon)
He didn't realize after he cut his hair, how his hair would look.
Here he is embarrassed, but Grandma thinks
he's still a handsome little man.
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When I'm around kids, I tend to sing – a lot – nothing you would know, mind you, because I make up my own songs, and I don't have a very good voice, but I can't help myself. I have a macaroni and cheese song, for instance, and others that just come to me as I work around the kitchen.
I think the reason I sing is because I find it hard to concentrate even when what I'm making is something simple. In large groups, I often sing in my head, just to avoid the distraction of other people who will confuse me just by their presence.
Holidays are especially difficult, because I might be preparing several things at once, and I usually forget at least one item because somebody interrupted my train of thought. Whenever that train leaves the station I'm pretty much assured that it will make several stops along the way and just stay where it lands regardless of where the destination was supposed to bring me. This past Thanksgiving, for instance, I forgot the stuffing.
Anyway, I'd like to share with you my annoying habit. Here is me singing to myself as I grab slices of bread, peanut butter, jelly, a spoon, and a knife so that Audrey and Nolan can make their own PB&J sandwiches (remember, I'm singing – repeatedly) – so here, for your enjoyment (or agitation), is my song (you'll have to make up your own tune):
A spoon and a knife and a spoon and a knife and a spoon and a knife and a spoon.
A spoon and a knife and a spoon and a knife and a spoon and a knife and a spoon.
A spoon and a knife
A spoon and a knife
And a spoon and a knife and a spoon
In my defense, if I hadn't sung to myself, I might have forgotten the spoon and the knife (remember the stuffing?)
After I sang the song, I heard this:
Nolan: (to me after about the fifth time of hearing the song) You're being annoying.
Audrey: (to Nolan) You're being mean.
Nolan: (to Audrey, agitated) I'm not being mean.
Me: Nolan, do you really think I'm being annoying?
Nolan: Yeah. But I'm not being mean; you're really being annoying.
I love that my grandkids are so honest.
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Audrey was not in a good mood yesterday. Mostly she complained about her mom working and not being home for her. Unusual for Audrey, she was particularly crabby yesterday and no amount of teasing would snap her out of it.
She became easily frustrated over homework, threw her pencil across the table, and stomped around the house. When her mom came home, I told Brittney, "One of your kids was REALLY crabby today."
Nolan and Avery were oblivious to the comment, but Audrey immediately lowered her head, puckered out her lips, and crossed her eyebrows. I think she was amazed that her mom figured out which one was the culprit.
Shortly after I arrived home, Audrey called me.
"I'm sorry, Grandma."
I wanted to make sure she knew why she was apologizing. "For what?"
"For being mean."
"You weren't being mean, Audrey. You were being crabby."
"I'm sorry for being crabby."
I was sure Brittney prompted the phone call. "Did your mom tell you to call me?"
"No, I called you myself."
Oh, what pride I felt, that Audrey took it upon herself to apologize to me with no prompting whatsoever from her mom. I had to let Audrey know how I was feeling.
"I'm so proud of you, Audrey. Nobody had to tell you to call me. You did it by yourself."
"Yeah, I had to call you; I didn't want to be on Santa's naughty list."
~~~
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