What's a Crapbox?

 We are not a family who swears. I raised my children to respect the English language and they all know that I ABHOR the "F" word – used alone or followed by "you". The repulsive and ugly word will not pass my lips.

Although I must admit, one day, in utter frustration, because I wanted my kids to know I was EXTREMELY upset, I uttered the offensive expression. My kids LAUGHED at me and said, "Mom, if you're going to use that word, learn how to say it correctly."

How can anybody not say that word correctly? It's truly ugly. I imagine "FU" might sound prettier if it was spelled like this: phucqueue. But it's not.

I bring up the "F" word only because I want to bring attention to the fact that cursing is not part of my vocabulary and it is not something I have taught my children.

However, kids live in a world filled with people who speak loathsome words, and we can't help but hear them spoken sometimes.

Well, yesterday, as Brittney (my youngest daughter) and I were having a cup of coffee, Audrey (her 5-year-old daughter) ran out of her bedroom, her face beaming with excitement. "Wanna see what I found in my crapbox?"

I looked at Brittney. Brittney looked at me. Our eyebrows crossed.

"What did you say, Audrey?"

"Come see what I found in my crapbox!"

"Are you saying crayon box?" We don't know why we asked her that – she's been speaking very clearly since before she was 2 years old, but we asked anyway.

"No, my crapbox."

Brittney and I were puzzled. As Audrey ran back to her room, thinking we were following her, I asked Brittney, "What's a crapbox? And where did she learn that word?"

So Brittney asked her why she was calling her box – that held miscellaneous items such as hair ties, crayons, and puzzle pieces – a crapbox. (Maybe the excitement was because Nolan, her little brother, had dropped a bit of his own "crap" in there – who knows).

Anyway, Audrey is an inventive little girl who has an imagination that allows her to gather information from various parts of her brain and create mysterious word combinations. Maybe somebody once told her to pick up all her crap and she assimilated the word into her vocabulary, because her only nonchalant comment was, "Oh, that's just what I call it."

Brittney told Audrey to call it her miscellaneous box, which she couldn't pronounce.

Photo above is of Nolan and Audrey hiding in the couch cushions.

When Little Boys Want To Marry Their Mommies

 Growing up with only sisters, my experience with boys was limited to what I witnessed in school or at family functions with my cousins.

And then I had a boy. Poor thing. He grew up with a mom who knew nothing about boys at all and, as time went by, he had to share me and his home with three other girls.

What I learned about being a mom to a boy was that boys are very protective of and affectionate with their moms. And moms love their little boys.

Don't get me wrong. Moms love their little girls too, but their relationship with their sons is different. Simply because they are different, boys are fun to watch.

When my oldest daughter had her own son 17 years ago, she was still married. Travis was the youngest of three with two older sisters.  Keeley called to tell me about a conversation she had with Travis.

In his most loving voice, Travis told his mom that he was going to marry her when he grew up.

"You can't marry me, Travis. I'm your mother. You can't marry your mother."

Travis was not happy with that response.

"But I want to," he insisted, as if want alone would change her mind.

"Well," Keeley said, as she attempted to ease his obvious pain, "You can't marry me, Travis, but you can marry somebody who reminds you of me, somebody who is like me, who looks like me, who acts like me, who talks like me, and who walks like me. How does that sound?"

My grandson considered his options, probably running through his mind as he thought of all his potential female companions. Finally his eyes lit up. "I know!"

My daughter looked into his eyes.

"I can marry Grandma!"

Oh, we are such bad parents – Keeley laughed. I laughed when she told me.

Later that day, I visited my daughter and my three grandchildren, Amanda, Sarah, and Travis. I sat down on the couch and Travis made it a point to sit next to me. As Keeley watched from the kitchen, Travis discreetly raised up his arm and wrapped it around my neck.

And he melted my heart.

Since that day, I've been blessed with many more grandchildren, and I cherish each one. So Amanda, Sarah, Travis, Wesley, Jeremy, Taylor, Kaden, Zac, Audrey, Nolan, Ayla, and Billy - your G-ma loves you.

Pictured above are Wesley (on the left when he was about the age Travis was in this story) and Travis (on the right).

Next Stop, Dallas?

 Travel talk time again. I recently spent ten days in Virginia with my son and his children while his wife was in Illinois. She, along with one of her sisters and one of her friends, opened a great frozen yogurt shop in Illinois. Michelle wants to one day franchise the shop and it will probably go very smoothies for her (play on words – FroYo Creations is a frozen yogurt and smoothie shop).

Because her husband (my son), Greg, is still a Marine, they've had an opportunity to live in various parts of the country (my son was also stationed in Japan, Iraq, Kuwait, and other overseas countries). They now live near Quantico, Virginia. She may open a shop there some day. Maybe not. I'm not sure how well they like the area.

At one time she and my son talked about moving to Dallas, so she may one day open a FroYo there as well. I've never been to Dallas, but I hear it's a beautiful city. I've been to Austin and Houston – was more impressed with Austin – and have heard that Dallas was just as beautiful a city as Austin, only larger.

Just recently I came across a woman I used to work with at Billings Hospital in Chicago, who lives in Dallas with her husband. I found her on facebook and I'm waiting for her to invite me to visit her.

OK, I'm kidding. I haven't seen her in about 30 years, but just in case I ever go there (my sister once wanted to move into that area as well), I once again will have to look into auto repair shops for my ancient automobile BEFORE I make the trip.

My trusty 2002 Saturn now has over 145,000 miles on it and while it's still running strong, I want to be prepared, so Dallas auto repair is going to have to be on my list of places to visit in case I run into trouble. Who knows when I'll need a brake job? Every once in a while the "check engine" light comes on in my car and I wonder why it's so sporadic – you would think if it was an ongoing problem, the light would stay on.

Anyway, by the time I can actually travel anywhere, WHERE I go will probably be in my car, which by that time should also be my home. I don't think my Saturn is going to be comfortable enough to sleep in. After all, it will almost be like sleeping on another planet (Saturn, get it? – oh, come on…give me a brake – sorry, I'm on a roll – we are talking about cars and a car sometimes needs a brake job – OK, I'll stop).

Anyway, I can't afford some of the more conventional RV's, so I'm thinking of maybe getting a truck. The Chevrolet Silverado has plenty of room in the back seat for sleeping and lots of storage in the rear to hold my tent. What? You don't think I would enjoy a little variety now and then? I can't ALWAYS sleep inside the truck.

Before you start feeling sorry for me, I want you to know something – it hasn't gotten that bad yet, and before I live in a tent, I'd probably live in a camper anyway.

If you'd like to donate a Chevrolet Silverado to a worthy cause, please leave your contact information in the comments below.

Leaving you with smiles and a wink ;)

My Grandma, The Bug

I've been in Virginia for the past ten days, enjoying my time with my son, Greg, and his three children, Taylor, Kaden, and Zac, while his wife, Michelle, was in Illinois, working at building their new business, FroYo Creations in Bourbonnais, IL.

My grandchildren are the cheapest forms of entertainment I know (as you might have surmised from some of my other blogs), and once again I find myself having to relate yet another occurrence of "How do they come up with these things?"

Having been away from Audrey and Nolan, I was looking forward to seeing them again. Audrey and Nolan are pictured here in dress-up on the day they performed their own version of American Idol while their mom, Brittney, and I attempted to watch the show in front of them. You can read about that day HERE.

But getting back to the Grandma plays a bug story (which is a very short story, by the way), here's what happened shortly after I came home yesterday:

I was unpacking my suitcases when Nolan came into my bedroom swatting around a hockey stick. Just as I turned around to see it, he said, "Hey, Grandma, pretend you're a bug!"

The New T-Shirts

I've always loved wearing comfortable clothes. For decades I lived in t-shirts on days when I didn't have to work, and I still find them the most comfortable of clothes.

I recently found some funny t-shirts (some of which might be called nerdy shirts) –  guaranteed to cause some heads to turn – that would be real conversation starters. Imagine for a second me wearing one of The Hangover t-shirts (from the movie, The Hangover) pictured to your left. Cracks me up just thinking about walking around wearing it.

Several years ago one of my daughters gave me a Beatles t-shirt, which I still own because I love it. I also wear my grandma t-shirts that my grandchildren give to me and my "Proud Mother of a Marine" t-shirt. The nice thing about t-shirts is that they come in a variety of colors and styles, and some of them are profound, some are thought-provoking, and some are quite humorous.

As a matter of fact, a lot of the t-shirts I see recently come with funny sayings. One of the ones on this site is not only funny, but probably true. It shows a graphic of a man holding a cup of coffee saying, "On the Internet I'm a 15 year-old girl."

Not all of the shirts on this web site are nerdy or funny, though. One says, "Reading is for awesome people." And they have other items like hoodies and belt buckles as well. (As a proponent of reading, I am providing a link to Oprah's book club for you.)

As long as we're talking about reading and t-shirts, if you want to learn more about t-shirts, click the about t-shirts link. You'll get a brief history, information about t-shirt trends, the environmental impact on t-shirts, and more.

By the way, on the Internet, I'm a glamorous and award-winning writer ;)

Saving Nolan's Privates

Oh, so many times, I find myself cracking up over pretty much everything my grandchildren do. So when Nolan walked into the dining room where I was sitting, looking like he does in the photo on your right, I practically fell on him to get to my camera.

As "they" say, a picture is worth a thousand words, so I really don't have much to say about this photo other than that I'm glad he's being potty trained right now. He had taken off his underwear to go potty, and then, instead of grabbing his Superman underwear and putting them back on, he grabbed this toy stethoscope instead. You're probably wondering why he placed it around his waist. I have no answer for that question.

I will add this: I never thought I'd have to use a "pasty" to cover part of my grandchildren in any of my blogs, but, as you can see from the photo, I had to do it this time. And I'll leave it at that.

Trying to Watch American Idol With Two Spinning Children

Every Tuesday, because my daughter Brittney is home from work, we watch taped episodes of American Idol that we missed from the week before. On Tuesday night, another episode of American Idol appears, so we have to get ourselves updated on the progress of the show in order to watch the new one on time.

But the way we have to watch the show is probably somewhat different from the way everybody else watches the show. Because between my television set and my couch spin two small children who sing, dance, and put on their own American Idol auditions. Audrey and Nolan also love making themselves dizzy repeatedly and flopping to the floor in front of us.

You might think I live in a one room apartment where they have no other place to play, but you would be wrong. My mobile home has a living room, a dining room, a family room, and four bedrooms. My living room, where my television is located, is a good size. Of all the places in my home, the one place the kids decide to dance, sing, and spin out of control, is located between the television set and the couch where my daughter and I sit to watch American Idol.

So last Tuesday, while I was watching an episode from the week before, instead of repeatedly asking the kids to perform their little antics in another room, I watched them instead of American Idol.

Nolan (2.5 years old) held two tiny books in one hand and one tiny book in his other hand as he held out his arms and stared at the one book while he spun round and round. When he could no longer stand, he fell to the floor and watched the room spin around him. Audrey (5) spun faster than her brother and fell to the floor more quickly. Sometimes they fell on top of each other and laughed uproariously when that happened.

I watched my daughter move her head from one side to the other as she attempted to watch American Idol around her children, oblivious to the fact that they were spinning out of control in front of her. My grandchildren were unaware that I was watching them.

At this point I had to ask myself to define entertainment. After all, I was quite amused that my grandchildren were performing acrobatics in the very spot that blocked our view to the television set, and I was equally entertained by American Idol.

I felt as if I were at my own home circus. Where else could I be doubly entertained?

(photo is of Audrey and Nolan at Christmastime wearing their SpongeBob pajamas)