Grandchildren | Susan Writes

After a Rain

Posted on May 3, 2015 by susanrray

On a warm sunny day after several rainy days, five-year-old Ruth squats low to the ground under a maple tree in her backyard. I walk near her and see that she’s stirring a small puddle of muddy water with a stick.

“What’re you doing, Ruth?” I ask. She looks up. There are mud streaks on her cheeks and she hands me a plastic glass filled with brown liquid with bubbles on top.

“I made chocolate milk with soap and mud. Do you want to taste it?” my Grand says. I shake my head. “I did and it’s disgusting!” Ruth says. She turns her back to me, picks up a handful of mud, molds it into a ball, and flattens it. “Now I’m making a pancake.” She places the mud pancake on a flat rock, scoops muddy water out of the mud puddle, and splashes it on top of the pancake.

She holds the rock toward me. “Try it, Gran. It has chocolate sauce on top and it’s delicious!” I pretend to take a bite and agree that it is delicious.

“As delicious as the mud pies that I made when I was a child. I put gravel in them and sold them to my dad for a nickel,” I say. Ruth asks why I used gravel. “The gravels were chocolate chips.” Ruth nods and turns back to the dirt. I expect that she’ll ask for a nickel for the pancake, but she doesn’t.

Using a plastic shovel and her fingers, my Grand digs in loose dirt and uncovers earthworms. She holds one in her hands and it wiggles. She puts the worm in an orange plastic sand bucket that is half full of muddy water. Then she holds another worm until it too tries to wiggle away, and she puts it into the bucket. I tell Ruth that I played with worms when I was a little girl. She puts both hands in the bucket of water and wraps a worm around her fingers and says, “They really like me, but they can’t live with me so I put them in water and they’ll be happy.” If worms can feel happy, these two certainly should.

Ruth swishes her hands in the bucket of water and wipes them over the grass and then down the side of her shorts. She leaves her mud play and climbs up the ladder of the jungle gym and slides down the five-foot long slide. She jumps on the trampoline with her older brother and sister. I stand outside on the driveway and talk with Daughter as we watch her children play.

Ruth soon returns to the mud puddle and again smashes more mud between her hands. From several feet away, I hear her talking about mud pies and pancakes and chocolate chips and chocolate sauce. She stops her mud play and picks up another earthworm and puts it in the bucket.

It’s time for me to leave Ruth’s family’s home. I tell Daughter and my Grands goodbye, get hugs and kisses, and turn on my car’s ignition. “Wait!” Daughter says and holds up one hand, “Ruth wants to tell you something else.” I roll the car window down.

My Grand yells. “Look out, Gran! There’s a worm. Don’t run over it!”

I wouldn’t dare. That worm will be happy with its friends in Ruth’s bucket of water.

###

Filed under: Grandchildren, Kids Say Funny Things, Play | Tagged: children play, mud, worms | Leave a comment »

What Kids Said

Posted on April 16, 2015 by susanrray

My folder labeled “Kids Said” is overflowing. And the children aren’t just my Grands. Friends share what their children and grandchildren say. So many snippets not long enough for a column and too good to remain hidden in a folder.

From the mouths of three-year-old kids…

Mother walked into the dining room and saw Robin holding her fingers pointed down over her half full glass of milk. Robin likes to dip her fingers into her milk and she’s been told, more than once, not to do it. Robin looked at her mother and said, “May you turn around?”

Granny asked Chuck to ride with her to the cemetery. She explained that her parents and grandparents were buried there. Chuck asked, “Will God be there?” Granny answered, “Yes,” and didn’t give an explanation. Chuck said, “Then I probably won’t get out of the car.”

As Grandma buckled Madison in her car seat, Madison asked a question that Grandma didn’t understand except she heard the words ‘poka dots.’ Grandma didn’t see any polka dots, or any kind of dots, in the car or on their clothes. So Grandma asked Madison where she saw dots. Madison answered quickly, “Your hands, Grandma.”

One November day, Grandmother told Elaine that her grandfather was blowing leaves off their yard and into the woods. Elaine immediately shouted, “With his mouth?”

When Jack’s parents asked him what gifts he wanted for Christmas, he looked into space for a few seconds, and then shouted, “I know! A choking hazard!” Just like other kids, he’d been told many times that he couldn’t have something because it was a choking hazard.

According to five year olds…

When baby brother was born, big sister told Mother, “I really wish you’d had your umbilical cords tied after you had me so I would be the only child!”

Mother looked at Andrew, tousled his hair, hugged him, and said, “You are changing.” Andrew pulled away from Mother, looked down at his legs and then at his arms. “No, I’m not!” he shouted.

When little Mary was asked to pray before the family meal, she looked at the food on the table and then said, “Not for this!”

Grandmother: I’m going to Yoga.

Caroline: What’s a yoga?

Grandmother: It’s exercise to make muscles and joints feel better.

Caroline: Does it get rid of soft, fat tummies?

Grandmother: No. Probably not.

Caroline: Good. Cause I like yours.

The perspective of a seven year old…

Gran dropped her iPhone onto the kitchen floor. Lou put her hand on her hip, cocked her head, and said, “So, now do you have a DUMB phone?”

Lou rode in the backseat of Gran’s van and when they stopped at a traffic light, Lou silently read an inscription close to the top of the Putnam County Courthouse.

Lou: Hmm. That sounds like something Yoda would say.

Gran: What?

Lou: In God, we trust. That’s the way Yoda talks. Not like normal people talk.

Gran: What would normal people say?

Lou: We trust in God.

###

Filed under: Children, Grandchildren | Tagged: Children, Grandchildren, What Kids Said | Leave a comment »

Anywhere You WAnt

Posted on March 26, 2015 by susanrray

Daughter and I told my two Grands that while we were on an overnight trip to celebrate their birthdays, each could choose a place to eat. Ruth, turning 6, chose the Rainforest Café for lunch. It was convenient for our shopping at Opry Mills where the girls would later build bears. Lou, almost 8, doesn’t like the Rainforest Café. Its thunderstorms. Loud, roaring and squawking animals. Trees and bushes. The food. She’d wait outside in the mall.

As Ruth and I followed the hostess to a corner booth, I heard Daughter use her mother voice and minutes later she and Lou joined us. Ruth loves everything about this restaurant that her sister hates. “Look! There’s the elephants making their loud noises,” Ruth said. This Grand was thrilled. She ate most of the hotdog and potatoes that she ordered while Lou sampled her tomato soup and ate two packages of crackers and a crunchy yeast roll. “Remember,” Lou said, “I’m picking the supper place!”

There were many choices near the Providence Marketplace in Mt. Juliet. After an hour-long swim in our hotel’s swimming pool, both girls were eager to eat supper. “What are you hungry for?” Daughter asked Lou. We settled into our van and everyone buckled seat belts, the girls seated behind Daughter and me. Lou said, “What’s the choices?” And that’s when Daughter and I made our mistake.

“Anywhere you want to go,” I said. Daughter added, “Look around. There are lots places here. You pick.” Then we announced a few places. Panera Bread. Chick-fil-A. Wendy’s. New York Pizza. Lou shook her head after every restaurant we named. Daughter drove slowly around the shopping center parking lot.

“Wait!” Lou said, “Is that Kroger? Let’s go to Kroger!” Daughter and I laughed. “We’re not buying food to cook,” Daughter said.

“No cooking,” Lou said with a big smile. “Let’s go to Kroger and get Lunchables!”

“Lunchables aren’t supper,” said Daughter. “It could be. Get two,” said Lou. I named more restaurants. “Kroger. Lunchables,” my Grand said.

Daughter said, “There’s no place in Kroger to eat.”

“Then we’ll take them back to our hotel room,” Lou said. I said that I wanted to put my feet under a table to eat, not while sitting on a bed. “Then we’ll take them to the swimming pool. There’s tables and chairs there.” I didn’t explain that food wasn’t allowed in the pool area. We were passed the point of being reasonable.

“How about frozen yogurt?” said Daughter. I suggested Marble Slab ice cream.

“Kroger Lunchables! Kroger Lunchables!” Lou chanted happily. Ruth joined in. My two Grands clapped to the beat of their singsong voices. “You said anywhere!” Lou interjected. Daughter and I shook our heads and smiled at each other. “And I didn’t like the Rainforest!” Lou reminded us.

Daughter and I looked carefully at the sign painted on Panera Bread’s door. It didn’t say “No Outside Food” so we stashed Lou’s and Ruth’s suppers inside our purses. We chose a back corner table. Daughter’s and my bowls of soup were delicious and my Grands ate every morsel of their Luncheables.

“Haven’t you written a column about Luncheables?” Daughter asked. I nodded. “This might rate another.”

How could a grandmother and a mother, both former elementary school teachers, not name three choices? Never ever say “Anywhere you want to go.” Never.

Filed under: Birthday, Grandchildren, Kids Say Funny Things | Tagged: Anywhere, Birthday, Luncheables | 2 Comments »

Ask Questions

Posted on March 4, 2015 by susanrray

“Why do red lights have those big shields around them?” asked my nine-year-old Grand. I looked up at the red traffic light in front of my van. “Shields?” I asked. David said, “Yes. Look, all three lights have metal around them. Why’s it there?”

I’ve driven for decades and stopped hundreds, no thousands, of times at a red traffic light and never noticed a piece of metal around each of the three colored lights. “Maybe, it’s to make the light look brighter,” I said.

He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” The light turned red and I drove under it, only to be stopped by another red light. “Look, those are the same. Do they all have shields?” David asked. I didn’t know. “I think they’re there so the people coming the other way can’t see them,” my Grand said. “You know. From the side. So just the people in front can see them. Or maybe it keeps the snow off of them.”

Our guesses seemed logical, but we wanted official answers. According to the Federal Highway Administration’s website, the shields surrounding traffic lights are either louvers or visors. The main purpose is to “improve visibility by providing a contrast between the lens and the signal head.” And “so that an approaching road user can see only the signal lens controlling the movements on the road user’s approach.” The signals that David asked about are partial or cutaway visors so that snow and water can’t accumulate at the bottom. (If a traffic light were a clock, the space between 5 and 7 isn’t encircled.) This open space also reduces the problem of birds making nests in a visor.

Lou, age 7, sat beside me. We searched for a jigsaw puzzle piece that was blue and green. We’d worked together for thirty minutes putting some of the 750 pieces together to create a scene of hot air balloons. “The piece we want has two outs and two ins,” I said. My Grand jerked her shoulders back, frowned, and said “What?” I held a piece in my hand and explained. “An out is that little knob that fits in the cut out part, the in, of another piece.”

“Gran, what’s the real names? Not outs and ins!” Lou said. A puzzle history website proved us both correct. The protruding pieces are called tabs or knobs. But I didn’t find a name for what I called an in. However, some people call tabs “outies” and the holes they fit in “innies.” Isn’t that the same as outs and ins?

So now we know why traffic lights have shields and the name of protruding jigsaw puzzle pieces. The answers aren’t nearly as important as the questions. I know from my teaching days that when children ask questions, they are thinking and learning.

This week I read a quote by C. S. Lewis from The Great Divorce. His book’s topic was much deeper than traffic lights and puzzle pieces, but the quote fits. “Once you were a child. Once you knew what inquiry was for. There was a time when you asked questions because you wanted answers and were glad when you had found them. Become that child again: even now.”

It reminds me to never quit asking questions and to notice such everyday things, such as traffic lights.

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Filed under: Grandchildren, Inspirational | Tagged: Grands ask questions, Puzzle Pieces, Questions, Traffic lights | Leave a comment »

This Time Last Week

Posted on February 26, 2015 by susanrray

“On our way. Friends coming too,” Daughter texted. A morning snow sledding party for nine children, ages 8 months to 10 years, and their parents. Daddies hoisted sleds out of the back of SUVs, and mothers carried food baskets. Husband entertained our youngest Grand, who is too young to sled down our backyard hill, and I donned my boots and coat to watch the outside fun.

Eight children, five adults, and twelve sleds, in all shapes and sizes at the top of the hill. Within minutes a line formed, much like snow skiers waiting to ride a ski lift. “I’m next!” was the mantra of the morning. Children rode doubles on a long wooden sled with their daddy or mother. Older child and younger or two youngers doubled. They raced. Girl against boy. Daddy against son. Mother against daddy. And they lugged their sleds back up the hill. “Walk up the side. Not in the middle of the hill,” the parents shouted, over and over and over again.

One daddy stood at the bottom of the hill beside a big tree, a possible hazard. The children veered away from it or did just what their parents told them. “If you’re about to hit a tree or out of control, roll off your sled.” Two mommas sat with crossed legs on matching disc sleds at the top of the hill. “We’re next,” one said. “We’re going down together. Holding hands.” And they did. All the way to the bottom. Neither let go of the other’s hand and neither rolled off her sled as they headed straight toward the tree. One momma crashed into the side of the tree. She looked up at her husband, who had caught every child who had careened within a few feet of the tree. He threw up his hands and then helped her up. She was okay. I heard one of the older kids ask another, “Why didn’t she just roll off?”

Sleds were abandoned. Children made snow angels, ate handfuls of snow, and walked along the edge of the creek. (I anticipated a snowball fight – that was the next day when only Daughter’s family came to sled.) Time to go inside where Husband had the gas logs burning and had thermoses filled with hot water. The mothers’ baskets overflowed. Hot chocolate and cider mixes, apple juice, bananas, cookies, pretzels, yogurt, string cheese.

Wet snow clothes were thrown into the dryer. Coats hung over open doors. Boots lined up in corners. “So I’ll know where they are,” one mother said. They ate and drank. They sat. They talked. They laughed. Big kids lay in the floor. The young ones cuddled beside parents.

“Who’s ready to go back out?” a mother said. The older kids quickly bundled up. A younger one balked. “I don’t want all that stuff. I just want to play!” Her choice was simple. Wear all that stuff or stay inside. She wore the stuff. Within twenty minutes, only Husband, youngest Grand, and I sat by the fire. Sledding, round two, was short and then they left. They took their sleds and their empty food baskets.

Later that night, on Facebook I looked at pictures and read a post one of the mothers wrote. “Gotta love when childhood friend’s parents still invite us over to play in the backyard. It’s like we are 16 again…but have husbands and children now.” I gotta love it, too.

Filed under: Friends, Grandchildren, Winter | Tagged: Octavia 2015, sledding, Snow play | Leave a comment »

Never Run Out of Hugs

Posted on February 12, 2015 by susanrray

I love all the hugs that I share with my Grands. And just as each Grand is different from the other, so are their hugs.

I held my arms out to Dean, age 3 ½, and asked, “Do you have a hug?” He spread his arms wide, threw them around my neck and said, “I never run out of hugs!” Until the next day. Dean sat on my lap as I read aloud Little Blue Truck Leads the Way. I read the last page, squeezed him with one arm and said, “How about a hug?”

Dean shook his head and grinned. “No hugs. I don’t have any,” he said and he jumped onto the floor and stood beside me. I told him I’d give him one of my hugs and I did. “Now you have a hug to give,” I said. Dean wrapped his arms across his chest, raised his shoulders and clutched them with his hands. “I gave me a hug!” he said.

Dean’s little brother, Neil who is 21 months old, laid his head on my shoulder and wrapped his arms around me. A whole body hug. Later, I sat on the couch and watched Neil line up his matchbox cars on the windowsill. Then he held a car in each hand, stood, and turned his back to me. He walked backward until his back touched my knees and then he looked up at me. That was my signal to pick him up onto my lap. Neil pushed himself back against me and sat still. Another whole body hug.

Elaine, who is also 3 ½, has perfected the welcome hug. When I open the back door to her family’s home, I hear the slap of Elaine’s feet as she runs toward me. Her arms form a T with her body. Her eyes and mouth are open wide. I quickly sit on the nearest chair or squat down. “Gran!” she screams, just before she throws her arms around me. It’s a two-arm around the neck squeeze and a kiss on my cheek. If I don’t sit or squat fast enough, it’s a two-arm around the knees squeeze and a kiss on my thigh.

Lou, 7 years old, surprised me last week. I turned my van’s motor off and expected her to undo her seat belt, open the van door, jump out, say “Bye, Gran,” and run into her house as she usually does. She stood behind my driver’s seat. After her older brother got out of the van, I asked, “Lou? Everything okay?” She put her arm around my shoulder and her head beside mine. “Gran, thank you for taking me places. I love you.” Then she opened the van door, jumped out, and ran up the back porch steps to her house. She stopped at her family’s back door, turned toward me, and waved. I counted that as another hug.

Virginia Satir, a respected psychologist and family therapist, is often quoted. She said, “We need four hugs a day for survival. We need eight hugs a day for maintenance. We need twelve hugs a day for growth.” I agree.

A good thing about hugs is when you give one, you get one, and then you’ll be like Dean – you’ll never run out of hugs.

Filed under: Everyday Life, Friends, Grandchildren | Tagged: Grandchildren, Hugs | Leave a comment »

Wanna’ Play?

Posted on January 29, 2015 by susanrray

“Gran, come on. Wanna’ play balloon?” my 3 ½ year old Grand said. Play balloon? “I don’t know how to play balloon,” I said. Dean grabbed his blown-up orange balloon and ran into his family’s living room, turned playroom.

“Come on. I’ll show you,” Dean said. He stood, with stiff legs spread far apart, in the middle of the room and held the balloon tightly between both hands. “You stand over there.” He nodded his head toward an empty floor space just a few feet away. “I start!” my Grand said as he tossed the balloon above his head and when it floated down to his arm reach, he smacked it toward me. “Hit it, Gran! Hit it!” he shouted. I did. He swatted it again and it landed on the floor behind a chair. Dean crawled under the chair, retrieved the balloon, and hit it into the air.

We swatted and smacked and hit and we laughed when the balloon landed out of our reach or onto the floor. Dean held the balloon out to me, “Gran, you want a start turn?” A treasured turn when you are three years old. I accepted Dean’s gift. “Next start is mine,” he said.

The following day Dean and I played with orange yarn, my Grand’s favorite color. We wrapped yarn around a napkin holder and around our fingers. Then Dean’s mother said that she’d bought the yarn to make pompoms to play with but hadn’t gotten around it. I cut a strip of cardboard, about 4” x 8”, from a gift box and began to wrap the yarn around the cardboard. “Dean, would you please pull the yarn out of the skein?” I asked. He did. Yards and yards. I couldn’t possibly wrap as fast as he pulled so I asked Dean to hold the yarn so it would be straight and easier for me to wrap. That lasted about 15 seconds. “Gran, your turn to hold!” my Grand said.

Wrapping yarn around cardboard wasn’t easy for Dean so he discovered that he could flip the cardboard over and over and over and over. Finally we had enough yarn to make a pompom and I tied the strands together with a tight knot and started to cut the yarn. “My turn to cut!” Dean said. A quick chore for me, but his is little short fingers didn’t fit the finger grips well. He twisted his body. Cocked his head. Moved the scissors from his left hand to his right hand. And after many tries, he snipped every strand and the pompom fell to the floor.

Dean grabbed the yarn pompom and ran toward the playroom. “Come on, Gran. Wanna’ play yarn?” he shouted. He tossed the yarn ball above his head and laughed when it smacked his face before falling onto the floor. “Stand over there, Gran.” I stood a few feet from him. “Are you ready? Hold your hands.” Then Dean tossed the pompom toward me and we played a game of catch. Then we took turns throwing the pompom toward a big empty cardboard box and high fived each other every time the ball landed inside the box.

Dean is all boy. Play balloon. Play yarn. My Grand’s versions of play ball.

Filed under: Children, Grandchildren, Play | Tagged: Play ball, Play balloon, Play yarn | Leave a comment »

Ride Along Partner

Posted on December 10, 2014 by susanrray

“Gran, where we going?” Elaine asked as she settled in her car seat in my van. She’s 3 ½, a busy toddler, and the age when any outing is fun. “We’re going to the bank, the library, and do a little shopping,” I said.

“Do they have suckers?” my Grand asked.

As we drove toward the bank, Elaine and I talked about what her brothers and sisters and parents were doing that day. And then she asked, “Gran, what’s Pop doing?” I answered, “Blowing leaves. All those brown leaves on the trees in our yard have fallen off and covered our driveway so Pop is blowing leaves off the driveway into the woods.”

Elaine shouted, “With his mouth?” When one of my Grands says something that shows a misunderstanding I try not to laugh, but this time I burst out laughing. I explained that Pop uses a leaf blower, a machine like a vacuum cleaner except instead of sucking up dirt on the floor, it blows air and moves the leaves. Elaine stuck her thumb in her mouth and twirled her hair with her other hand – her comfort. I apologized for laughing.

We drove through the drive-through window at the bank, and Elaine chose a red sucker that replaced her thumb in her mouth. At the library, I slid books in the drive-through return and Elaine asked, “Who catches them on the other side?” She was happy with my answer, “I don’t know.”

On to shopping. It was quick stop at one store to look for a new purse for me. Two large racks of purses hung from floor level to high above my head. From the bottom rack, Elaine immediately grabbed the biggest, brightest red purse adorned with silver brads and fringe. “Get this one!” she shouted. It fell to the floor when she put it on her shoulder and she decided it was too heavy. “How about this one?” A tiny, turquoise purse with a long shoulder strap. She wore that purse as I continued looking and when I held up a black and brown shoulder bag for her approval, she wrinkled her nose, shook her head, and said, “That’s dull.” I bought it anyway.

Back to the van, Elaine decided that she’d ride in her big sister’s booster seat, not her car seat, and her strong-willed independence came through. “But Mama always lets me!” she screamed. I knew that one time she buckled herself in a booster seat while the family van was parked in the carport. To distract my Grand, I commented that she and I were dressed almost alike. Blue jeans and denim jackets. “But I don’t have a shirt with a balloon on it,” she said and pointed to my shirt. And I told here that I don’t have a shirt with a dog on it. As Elaine climbed into her car seat, I said, “When you get big, I’ll let you wear my balloon shirt.” Elaine replied, “When you get little, I’ll let you wear my dog shirt.”

I’m thankful that I live close to Elaine’s home. Most times when I say to my daughter, Elaine’s mother, “Would Elaine like to ride along with me this morning?” the answer is yes, and I have a partner. It’s a win, win, win for Daughter, Grand, and me.

Filed under: Grandchildren | Tagged: ride along, running errands, shopping trip | 5 Comments »

Another Muddy Pond Trip

Posted on November 12, 2014 by susanrray

A couple of weeks ago, I invited four Grands on our annual Muddy Pond field trip to learn how sorghum is made and see a community different from ours. The two older siblings declined so five-year-old Ruth, who went last year, became her three-year-old sister’s tour guide. “It’s a long way, Elaine, but they have lots of sprinkles at the store. Gran, how many can we get this year?”

As we drove toward Monterey, I pointed out the colors of the leaves. Orange, yellow, red. “Do you see the huckleback brown?” Ruth asked. What color? Surely, I didn’t understand what she said. “Huckleback brown.” I don’t know that color. “There’s lots of huckleback brown. Look.” Little sister Elaine chimed in, “That’s not a real color.” Ruth said, “It is, if I say it is.” End of discussion.

I told my Grands that last year as we drove along a country road we passed a field that had big animals – elk, moose, deer. Ruth said, “I remember! Elaine, they’ll be on my side. Look over here.” We slowed down as we drove past the pasture where we saw the big animals last fall, but we didn’t see anything except a pond. Ruth said to Elaine, “You should’ve seen the big elk.” Elaine asked what they looked like. Ruth said, “Big like deer and they had horns. Antlers! Is that what they’re called, Gran?” I explained that only the males have antlers and when Elaine asked why, I took the easy way out, “Because that’s the way they’re made.” All was quiet in the back seat for a few minutes, and then Ruth said, “That’s not fair. Girls need antlers, too.
Unfortunately, due to wet weather the sorghum mill wasn’t operating. “Too bad, Elaine. There’s a big horse that walks and a dog that barks,” Ruth said. Before we went inside the Muddy Pond General Store, I told my Grands to stay close to me, and that we would buy sprinkles. Ruth shared more information. “Elaine, they have lots of candy and upstairs there’s a rocking horse, but wait for me to show it to you. Okay? And they have long dresses, but no toys. Can we get suckers like last time, Gran?”

We made a quick tour of the store, slowing down to look at the doll-size high chairs and cradles and for both Grands to rock on the wooden hand-made rocking horses. Ruth chose pink and green sprinkles; Elaine, blue and red, and I bought a dozen sorghum suckers, some to eat and some to take home to share. Elaine immediately ripped the cellophane wrapper off her sucker and the candy fell onto the concrete store floor. I offered her another sucker, but Ruth intervened and said, “It’s okay. The floor doesn’t look dirty.” Elaine picked up her sucker and stuck it in her mouth.

After we’d buckled seat belts in the van, Ruth asked, “Gran, did we miss rest time?” I explained that the ride home would be a quiet rest time. “So, Elaine, you can go to sleep, but I won’t,” Ruth said.

I didn’t even ask if anyone noticed how the Muddy Pond community is different from Cookeville. This field trip was about the sisters. Middle child, Ruth, had a chance to be the leader, and her independent toddler sister, Elaine, accepted her role as the follower.

Elaine slept all the way home. Ruth talked.

Filed under: Autumn, Grandchildren | Tagged: field trip, Muddy Pond, sorghum | 2 Comments »

Not As It Seems

Posted on October 9, 2014 by susanrray

I’m blessed with four Grands between the ages of 1½ and 5½. I love the toddler stage, and I’m always entertained by the way young children see the world. Their confusion that everything isn’t literal or as it seems.

Elaine is 3 ½ and she became very upset over something that happened to her older sister, Ruth. While on a recent vacation with Daughter and her family, Ruth and I got out of the swimming pool and sat in the hot tub. Ruth eased herself in front of one of the jets and her loose swim shirt quickly filled with air. “Look, Elaine!” she laughed and called to sister. “Look at my bathing suit!” Elaine came running toward the hot tub, saw Ruth, and then froze in place. Elaine’s eyes grew big. She put both hands over her mouth and screamed, “No! No! Get out! Get out!’ I assured Elaine that Ruth was okay. Ruth got out of the hot tub and Elaine helped her pat the bathing suit flat against her body. Elaine looked at Ruth’s chest and back under her bathing suit. When Ruth turned to get back in the hot tub, Elaine screamed, “No! Don’t get in!” There was no way to convince Elaine that Ruth wouldn’t inflate, like a balloon.

When Dean was barely 2 ½, his mother asked what he wanted to be when he grew up. Dean looked off into space and didn’t answer. Thinking he needed some hints, his mother suggested that he might be a fireman or policeman. Dean frowned, turned his head side to side and said, “Big. Grow up big!” He was three years old when he went grocery shopping with his mother and saw a carton of brown eggs in a clear plastic package. “Look! Chocolate eggs! Get those,” he told his mother.

David was five when he saw the sunrise at the beach. “Look! The sun came out of the water!” The same sun that stayed all night in the water; it went in the water in one place and came out another.

My Grands take me back to the time my own children were toddlers. I thought that Son, age 4 and Daughter, age 5 ½ could help me paint a play table. I gave each of them a brush and poured a small amount of blue paint into two flat-bottomed plastic bowls. We determined which half of the table each of them would paint and for a few minutes, all went well. Most of the washable blue paint was spread on the tabletop and most drips landed on the newspapers that covered the garage floor. Then Daughter complained that Son was painting a leg on her section of the table. I said, “Eric, paint your legs,” and I went into the house for one minute to get something. Eric followed my directions perfectly. He completely covered both his own legs with blue paint.

Toddlers. Trying to understand the whys and causes and directions. Aren’t we all?

Filed under: Grandchildren, Kids Say Funny Things | Tagged: funny things kids say, Grandchildren, not literal | Leave a comment »

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