Where Does The Time Go

Every Day Is A Parade

One moment our children are young, helpless and need every boo-boo kissed. The next moment they are old enough to obtain a driver’s permit. I can’t believe I have another child behind the wheel of a car; at least for now it’s only with my husband or me in the car giving the do’s and don’ts of driving. The permit was given to my child within the last couple of weeks and we still haven’t made it to the open roads. So far the practicing has been limited to empty parking lots. The reason for this is because although I think my child is thrilled to have that piece of paper that says “I passed my classroom driver’s education class”, I don’t think my child is really feeling ready for the road. As any parent is well aware we know our teenagers want to act grown up but deep down they aren’t sure of themselves. I mention this because after the first week of getting the permit my child’s excitement seems to have worn off. Fine with me, we can take it slow because I’m in no hurry for the official “I can drive all by myself license”. I’ve been through that experience twice before and it is a nerve wrecker. I admit it – I’m a worry wart especially when it comes to my kids. So I say, “Honey take your time getting your feet wet, I’m still adjusting to the fact that you don’t need your boo-boo’s kissed anymore.”

And The Race Is On

EVERY DAY IS A PARADE

Who’s faster than a mouse being chased by a cat? Faster than a cat being chased by a dog? Faster than a dog being chased by a kid? Faster than a kid on all fours heading to the dog’s water bowl? The answer is -- a Grandma. My granddaughter learned to crawl last month. She graduated from the army crawl. Let me tell she had the army crawl down perfectly and did it impressively quick, but the crawling is quicker. Yet I can still get to whatever she has her eyes on across the room faster than a speeding bullet. The other day she and her brother were over for a visit. Soon after she arrived for the visit she spotted my dog’s water bowl and made her way to splash her hands in it. Well this became a game to see who could get to the water bowl first, me or her. After the first splash, I was definitely the winner. Oh, but she kept trying and thought she was funny. She would eye me, then the water bowl and ZOOM the race was on. This kept her entertained for awhile until I was tired enough to finally pick the water bowl off the floor. She was disappointed for a bit, but what’s better than splashing in the dog’s water dish? The answer is -- splashing in the kiddie pool. Her grandma knows how to have fun.

The Fun is Coming

Every Day Is A Parade

The area in which we live has had some major storms roll through. In fact one storm was so severe that the thunder actually bounced our house on its foundation and many trees in the surrounding neighborhoods had fallen. Well recently my grandchildren spent the weekend at our house while their dad and mom spent some alone time. My grandkids and I had lots of fun together, but there does come a time when children need their naps. I told my grandson it was time to rest his little head for awhile and what I interpreted from his response and cute voice was “The fun is coming”. I assumed he was having a great time with me that taking a nap was not on his planned list of activities to do at grandma’s house. I did convince him to lie down, but the nap never happened. For approximately one and a half hours he played in my youngest son’s room and in between I checked on him and reminded him it really was naptime. Each time I came in the room he would point to the poster above my youngest son’s bed. On this poster there’s a race car and a bolt of lightning. My grandson would then say to me, “It’s storming”. Then I would say, “Yes, there’s a bolt of lightning on the poster, but it’s not storming outside today.” My son, his dad, called later to check on his kids. I told him how his son didn’t want to take a nap because he was having too much fun at grandma’s house and that he said “The fun is coming”. That’s when my son says, “Oh, what he’s probably saying is “The thunder’s coming. He’s been afraid of the storms we’ve had lately and he doesn’t like to go to bed because of them.” Well the poster thing now made sense, but I was somewhat disappointed because I was thinking he wanted nothing more than to have as much fun at my house as he possibly could. Soon the weekend came to a close and he and his little sister were packed up to go back to their home. My son, their dad, came to pick them up. And guess what. He was not ready to go home, because there is always FUN at grandma’s house.