Susan Writes

Kids Still Say the Darndest Things

Posted on August 28, 2013 by susanrray

Remember Art Linkletter’s television program Houseparty and its segment, Kids Say the Darndest Things? Or how about Bill Cobsy’s weekly TV program in the late ‘90s that was about the funny things kids say? If anyone ever airs another show that lets children say what I think, I know a few youngsters who’d be perfect guests. Some of my Facebook friends share their children’s comments, and I really do laugh aloud.

Joel, a first grader, asked his mother, “Do we have a copier at home?”

Mother: No.

Joel: Do you have one at work?

Mother: Um, why do you want to know?

Joel: Well, money is made on paper and you can copy what’s on paper.

How about this logical reasoning from another five year old? “I spent all my money, can I buy some more?”

Kenan was learning the beginning sounds of words. He asked, “Does tea, the drink, start with t, the letter?”

Mother: Yes.

Kenan: Awesome!

Kenan: Does Leah Beth (his new baby sister) start with a g’?
Mother: No.
Kenan: Oh, I thought it did because she’s a girl.

Jonah, age four, pointed to his forehead and asked, “Mom, when I turn five is it called a fivehead?” Another day, Mother said that her phone battery was almost dead. Jonah asked, “Will it go to Heaven?”

And then there’s Max. When he was two, Max and his mother were looking at some photos of their friends and Max said, “I like the girls.”

Mother: Yes, we have some pretty friends who are girls.

Max: I like the naked ones.

At age four, Max announced that he had a new pet that was small and black and sometimes ate dinner with him on his plate.

Mother: Oh, is your new pet a fly?

Max: Yes! And his name is Friendy and I don’t want you to kill him.

Mother: Well, how will I know that it’s Friendy and not just some other housefly?

Max: Because Friendy has nipples!

When Max was five, he said, “I wish I were a tadpole instead of a boy. Then I could swim more and not get ticks.”

Travis, age 5, was engrossed in a television program when his mother told him it was time to turn off the TV. Travis said, “But it’s a cooking show and it’s not over. Please.” Mother shook her head. Travis said, “But I’m learning how to cook.” Mother shook her head. Travis tried one more time. “But, Mom, you should watch too. You might learn how to cook.”

Sometimes long words are confusing. Lou, age 3, saw a short brown twig on the ground and thought it was alive. She said, “Look, there’s a catterputter.” One rainy day, Richard asked to take his underbrella outside, and when he wanted binoculars he asked for beach-lookers. Aaron asked to visit a friend who lived in a condominium. “Can we go to Russell’s amphibian?”

Thanks, friends, for allowing me to share your kids’ gems. The things they say would make great reality TV. I’d set my recorder to watch Kids Still Say the Darndest Things every week. Meanwhile, please continue to share -we all need a good laugh.

Filed under: Everyday Life, Grandchildren, Kids Say Funny Things | Tagged: art linkletter, Children, Kids Say Darndest Things, kids say the darndest things | Leave a comment »

That’s a FIRST

Posted on August 22, 2013 by susanrray

“Well, that’s a first,” I said as Husband turned off the TV late one night in June. “That’s the first time I’ve ever watched the WCTE Auction and not bought something.” Husband nodded. “And tonight’s the last night so I won’t have another chance this year.” I’d bid on several items, but obviously not as the auctioneers suggested: bid high and bid often.

That first-time thought stuck in my mind. So on Monday morning, June 10, I started a new list entitled “One New Thing Everyday – A First!” and I wrote, ‘Watched WCTE Auction and didn’t buy anything.’ (Next June I’ll bid higher.) I wondered how many days I’d do or see something for the first time. It’s been more than two months and except for three days that I forgot to write and couldn’t remember anything I’d done on those days, I’ve had a FIRST every day.

Most are small, insignificant events and many are things I saw. Some are happy – some sad. Some intentional – some just happened. Most silly – some serious. Most common – a few once in a lifetime. What’s the point? I’m not sure, but I mentioned what I’d been doing to a few friends and one said, “I like that!” Her encouragement was all I needed to continue.

Many intentional FIRSTS relate to food. At the cookie store, I almost ordered my favorite, oatmeal raisin. But instead I tried a walnut, cranberry oatmeal cookie and it was definitely better than my longtime favorite. For the first time ever, I’ve eaten peanut butter spread on a banana and caramel yogurt and Pig’s Ear Salad and colcannon. Not on the same day.

I’ve realized I see new things every day. My newborn Grand. Twin fawn and their mother in my backyard. Two-year-old Grand throwing rocks into our backyard creek. Three Grands – one at a time – riding on a tube with their daddy behind a boat at the lake. (I could almost do a whole FIRST list about my Grands.)

I pieced and quilted my first quilt. The marigolds seeds I planted came up. I went to a concert by myself and toured Granville, Tennessee and the Baxter Depot with friends. I drove on Cookeville streets that I’d never noticed before and read Garden and Gun magazine.

It’s really not difficult to see or do something new each day. But sometimes I do something just to be sure to have an entry on my FIRST list. Like this one: I tweeted. I read an email, entitled 5 Reasons to Embrace the 21^st Century, that ended with these words: “Avoid old-fogie-itis and stave off dementia! Click to tweet.”

So I wrote my first tweet. Avoid being an old fogie.Do or see 1 new thing a day.Nothing spectacular.Eat colcannon.Drive a new path.Do it. And immediately, I had followers. Only one who I know.

I’m taking my own advice. Who wants to be an old fogie? Not me. That’s gives me one good reason for FIRSTS. And besides, it’s fun to do or see something new every day.

###

Filed under: Everyday Life, FIRST | Tagged: First | Leave a comment »

Wait ’til Next Year’s Fair

Posted on August 15, 2013 by susanrray

We were stuck. Front bumper against the railing. Cars whizzed past. I turned the steering wheel. Our car didn’t move. A yellow car bumped ours. My four-year-old Grand held on for dear life. “Ruth, help me turn the wheel,” I said. Her blue eyes opened wider as she gripped the metal bar in front of her even tighter. Three cars bumped ours as they went past.

I looked toward the man in the red vest. The man leaning against the side of the bumper car track and who’d mumbled, “Put your arms in a strap,” as he lower a round metal bar over mine and Ruth’s heads. I made eye contact with the red-vested man and threw up my hands in despair. “PUSH THE PEDAL!” he shouted. My feet were scrunched under my twisted legs on the left side of the bumper car, far from the pedal on the right side. The pedal, under the steering wheel and a long leg length in front of Ruth’s short legs.

Husband and I took our three oldest Grands – ages 4, 6, and 8 – to the county fair. I’d given each Grand some money to spend however they wanted. We walked through the arts and crafts building and checked out the petting zoo. “Now, can we go see the rides?” Asked Lou, age 6. We checked out every ride. The older two Grands decided they’d ride two rides and buy cotton candy. Or one ride, cotton candy, and take money home. Lou and Ruth rode the fish that went up and down and around in a circle.

“Pop,” said David, “will you ride the bumper cars with me?” He stood beside the painted board that proved he’s tall enough to drive a car. “Not with me – in a different car.” Pop headed toward the ticket booth.

“Pop!” Lou called, “I want to ride. Can I ride with you?”

“Me, too!” shouted Ruth. In the time it took me to blink my eyes, it was decided that Ruth and I would ride together and Husband had the tickets in hand and all five of us were hustled toward bumper cars and we got in three separate cars. I was concerned that my Grand beside me was safe and could steer the car. It never occurred to me that anyone had to push a pedal.

“PUSH THE PEDAL!” shouted the man in the red vest. I untangled my legs, stretched out my right leg, and stomped the pedal. “Hold on, Ruth,” I said. I turned the steering wheel all the way to the left and we swerved off the rail.

Smack! We hit the boy who’d laughed when he bumped our car. We made a turn at the end of the track and five cars, including two that my Grands were riding in, were headed toward us. I swerved to bump David’s car and maneuvered between two others. Open track ahead. Those five cars were stuck in a traffic jam behind us. We made two complete circles on the open track. The yellow car, driven by a teenage boy, broke loose and headed toward us. I avoided the bump and hit the back of his car. And then the ride stopped. “Everybody out,” said the man in the red vest.

Husband, our Grands, and I walked toward the cotton candy booth. “That bumper car ride went by really fast,” David said.

“Did you see me and Pop hit that red car?” said Lou.

“I like that ride,” said Ruth. Me, too. Just wait ‘til next year. We’ll be ready.

Filed under: County Fair, Grandchildren | Tagged: Bumper cars, County Fair, Grandchildren | 1 Comment »

Observant and Inquisitive

Posted on August 7, 2013 by susanrray

Husband found a quiet lake cove and anchored the pontoon boat. The Grands, wearing their snug life jackets, jumped off the front of the boat, swam to the back, climbed up the ladder, and splashed into the water again and again. What a happy way to celebrate my birthday – with family, on the water, under a cloudless sky, surrounded by trees. I floated and watched. Quite comfortable in my one piece, cover-all-it-can, bathing suit.

The Grands’ parents finally declared rest and snack time. All of us sat on the boat wrapped in towels. Six-year-old Lou snuggled close and rubbed her hand over my shoulder and down my arm. “Gran,” she said, “how do you get that fat there?” Lou patted my back, right under my armpit. Husband, Daughter, Son in Law, and Lou’s three siblings looked at her and me. I tugged on my bathing suit to hide that fat there. “I don’t know. How’s that?” I asked.

“Better, it’s not so fat now,” my sweet Grand said.

My Grands notice everything. When David was six years old, he and his two younger sisters crowded close as I read aloud. With one Grand in my lap, and one on each side, I held the book high, front and center, so we could all see the pictures. David, sitting beside me, rubbed his hand lightly down my arm. With one finger, then two, and then his whole hand. And then he patted under my arm right above my elbow. “Gran, stop a minute,” he said. “How do you get your arm to do that?” He thumped that part of my arm that some people call a bat wing. And he thumped his own underarm. “Look. When I do my arm like that it doesn’t jiggle.” I immediately lowered my arms and the book.

“What? I want to see,” said both his sisters. I couldn’t convince them that the book was more interesting than a bat wing arm. So we played show and laugh, and I silently swore that I’d never again lift my arms from my sides in public, unless I was wearing a sleeve below my elbow.

And then there’s a question that all my Grands have asked at age four. Recently, Ruth and I sat on the playroom floor and dressed Strawberry Shortcake dolls. We pretended that they smelled as they did when they were new, more than thirty years ago. That’s when Ruth popped the question. The same one that her older brother and sister had asked. “Gran, is there a baby in your tummy?” My reply was simple. “No.” And I’ve learned to not give explanation.

You know, if I’d lose a few pounds or grow about half an inch taller, I’d be an ideal weight according to most medical charts. But somehow, my body bulges in places that it didn’t at this same weight twenty years ago.

I’m glad my Grands are observant and inquisitive. Just not about my body.

Filed under: Everyday Life, Grandchildren | Tagged: bulge, Grandchildren, Grandmother's body, inquire, observe | Leave a comment »

Aunt Anne’s Recipes

Posted on August 1, 2013 by susanrray

Aunt Anne would be proud – at least, I think she would. Husband and I are celebrating our anniversary this week and I’ve tried to follow her advice. When we married, Aunt Anne gave me a card file box filled with 3 x 5 cards. On the first card, she wrote “Recipes – Family Favorites and Other Things.” There wasn’t one single recipe for food. “Someone who likes to cook will have to fill out all those blank cards,” she told me. Aunt Anne, really my great aunt, shared other things.

How to live on a budget – Have it printed on the rug.

How to avoid in-law trouble – Stay away from them. But remember that your mother-in-law and father-in-law spent a whole lot of time and money to produce that man and they are handing over the finished product to you —- for free! Be kind to them. In twenty-some short years you might be a mother-in-law. (It was 27 years.)

Aunt Anne used two cards, front and back, to write about Money and Marriage. Let’s face it girls, it’s still a man’s world! (This year was 1969.) Oh, we get jobs and sometimes make more than the men. We vote. We stick our little pinkies in the world affairs, but we still rock the cradle. In the biological process of filling that cradle, we’re just as old fashioned as Grandma. For a time, we are dependent. So it might be a good idea to know how Grandma managed money long before the female executive with the fat salary came along.

Grandma raised chickens, sold cream, taught music, sewed, and resorted to trickery. She padded the household accounts, filled his wine cup, then raided his pockets, and she had the vapors. Now there was a malady worth money!

Grandma swooned, looked fragile and clung to Grandpa’s big strong hand. All the while sending out messages with her fluttering eyelids that penetrated the depth of his protective instinct. Grandma just wasn’t able to make that kettle of soap nor do the week’s wash so Grandpa hired it done.

This was not the devious trick that it sounds. Grandpa felt ten feet tall, with a large chest expansion and everybody was happy. Some variation of this theme has been used thru the ages. Applied with discretion, it will rate a washer and dryer to this day.

Aunt Anne might not have liked to spend time in the kitchen, but she knew the importance of putting food on the table. Tis’ said, she wrote, that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. There are times it seems like the long way around.

And she gave me a recipe entitled How to Hold Your Man. Tie Him! Tie him with a mixture of kindness, consideration, honesty, truthfulness. Leaven with common sense. Spice with a pinch of temper and a good argument now and then. Frost with lots of hugs and kisses.

So here I am, 44 years later, still happily married to Husband and relishing Aunt Anne’s recipes. There’s one bit of advice that’s as difficult to master as it was as a newlywed. She stated it simple and straightforward. How to avoid a fuss with your husband – Shut your mouth.

Filed under: Anniversary | Tagged: advice for marriage, anniversary, Aunt Anne, recipes | 1 Comment »

The Power of a New Pencil

Posted on July 25, 2013 by susanrray

I’m fighting a buying impulse. Pencils, spiral notebooks, and stickers are calling. If I dare go to a store this week, I’ll come home with three bags full of back-to-school supplies. I’d probably even buy plain white paper, a 500-sheet pack. I don’t need anything for school, and my Grands already have their school things. For most of my life, I’ve shopped for school supplies. As a student, as a teacher, then a mother and teacher. I like everything that says it’s time to start school.

But I didn’t always feel this way. When I started school, I didn’t like it one bit. Mother dressed me in my new dress and brown saddle oxfords and kissed me good-bye. Daddy drove me to school and walked me to my first grade classroom. I sat in my assigned desk until the teacher turned toward the chalkboard and then I bolted out the classroom’s open back door to the playground.

I had good reason not to like school. My first grade teacher expected me to sit still and quiet on a hard wooden chair. I’d gone to school several times with my big brother who was five years older and sat on a quilt on the floor right beside the teacher. I’d colored pictures (probably with new crayons) and looked at books. Our family lived in a small town where everyone knew everyone – including all the teachers.

My very first day of school, I ran across the playground, down the road, and across a few backyards to the service station that Daddy owned. He put me in his car and drove to school. He held my hand and shoulder tightly and guided me toward my classroom where my teacher stood, holding the door open. I sat in my desk. Head down and cried until the teacher said for everyone to stand and say the alphabet together before we copied the letters from a poster onto our lined paper. Letters of the alphabet that weren’t even in the correct order. My brother and his best friend had taught me to say the ABC’s – in reverse order. So on that very first day of school, I stood to recite the alphabet with all my classmates and I said, “Z Y X W…” The teacher didn’t think it was funny, but my classmates laughed.

I ran out the door again. Right into Daddy’s arms. He held a switch he’d just cut and he took me behind a big oak tree. Just the sight of the switch hurt me as if I’d been spanked. Daddy told me I had to stay in my classroom and that he’d be right outside the door to hug me at 3:00. It took about a week for me stop running and stay at school.

On the first day of school tomorrow, there might be a student or two who’d like to run out the door. I hope these kids get the rewards for going to school that I did. Praise, hugs, and a new pencil every Monday morning. A yellow pencil with a smooth pink eraser.

Filed under: School | Tagged: ABC backwards, First grade, New Pencil, School, Shopping for school supplies | Leave a comment »

Peppermints and Cupcakes

Posted on July 18, 2013 by susanrray

“Can we play the peppermint game after lunch?” my Grand, age 6, asks.

“Sure,” I say. “Do you remember who taught you that game?”

“Aunt Doris,” eight-year-old David, answers quickly. “Remember the time I found a peppermint under the couch and she didn’t even know it was there? It was kind of hard, but I ate it anyway.”

“I wanna’ play too,” says Ruth, age.

“Play, too!” shouts my two-year-old Grand. It’s Thursday. The day these four Grands are Husband’s and my lunch guests.

Aunt Doris, the Grands’ great-great aunt, always had York Peppermint Patties to share with children. But she didn’t just give them to the children – they played Aunt Doris’s game, Hot and Cold. A game most everyone has played. The children hid their eyes or went into the kitchen while Aunt Doris hid peppermint candies in her living room. “Okay, you can start hunting now,” she’d say. And then one at a time, each child looked for a peppermint while Aunt Doris gave clues as to how close the hunter was to the hidden treat. Cold – far away from the candy. Warm – getting closer. Hot – very close.

I don’t know who had more fun. Aunt Doris, my Grands, or maybe Uncle Hugh and I as we watched. “Hide it again,” my older Grands would say, “and this time made it really hard.” The same candy might be hidden two or three times, and Aunt Doris refused to give any clues except cold, warm, and hot. A simple game and a simple candy treat, that connected two generations, separated by more than 80 years. And now I hide the peppermints.

It occurred to me that so much of what grandparents do, we do to make memories and connect our grandchildren with those we love. One afternoon when our oldest Grand was about four, Husband came home from work with a box of fancy cupcakes. “Aren’t the kids (meaning our daughter, son-in-law, and two Grands at the time) coming for supper? I bought dessert.” I wanted to know what the special occasion was, but I didn’t get an answer.

As the table was being cleared of dirty plates and meat and potatoes, Husband left the kitchen and came back carrying a picture of my dad. “Today’s a special day. It’s your great-grandfather’s birthday,” he told our Grands. “He made this kitchen table. This one where we just ate supper, and he was your Gran’s daddy.” And with that, a tradition began. On the birthdays of my deceased parents and Husband’s father, we eat cupcakes, look at pictures, and talk about Papa, Grannie, and Grandfather. Our Grands will never know and love these three great-grandparents as they do Grandmother, who visits and brings macaroni and cheese and chocolate pudding, but maybe they’ll remember that Papa was a schoolteacher and a postmaster, and that Grannie sewed beautiful clothes and owned a flower shop, and that Grandfather owned a grocery store.

It’s all about the memories and connections. And peppermints and cupcakes.

###

Filed under: Food, Grandchildren, Lunch | Tagged: Birthday, connections, cupcakes, Grandchildren, Memories, Peppermints, york peppermint patties | 1 Comment »

Woman Battles Pests

Posted on July 11, 2013 by susanrray

I hate dandelions and TV commercials and flies. I attack dandelions with vengeance. I push a tool – one that looks like a long screwdriver and has two sharp points on the end – down beside dandelions and dig up the roots. Now I know when dandelions seed, they’re fun for kids to blow and watch the feather-light seeds float in the air. But not in my yard.

TV commercials are easy to avoid. I record my favorite programs so I can fast forward through commercials. The faster, the better. And if I watch TV in real time, I hit the mute button during commercials. That leads to some creative thinking. During a commercial for a laxative, a pair of red, spike-heeled, ladies shoes danced across the screen. What’s the connection?

And then there are flies. Like the one that buzzed over my head as I lay in bed ready to sleep. And then it flew around the lamp on my bedside table. I marked my place in the book I was reading and rolled up a magazine. From my reclining position, I swatted the magazine every time Pesky Fly flew within arm’s reach. Swatted left to right. Forward and backward. He won round one. This was no ordinary housefly – maybe a horse fly.

I got out of bed and tromped to the utility room to get the fly swatter. Pesky must have heard me coming back to the bedroom. He was nowhere to be seen or heard as I stood in the middle of the bedroom with my weapon raised. “Where’d he go?” I asked Husband. He shook his head and continued to read his espionage thriller book. I climbed back in bed, read one page of my book, and heard the buzz coming from the lamp. Do flies get energy when they circle light bulbs? I threw off the covers, turned off the lamp, grabbed my fly swatter, and gave Husband instructions. “Turn off your light. I want that fly in the bathroom.”

Pesky followed me. He buzzed past my head and near the brightly lit ceiling light. I didn’t want a red bloodstain on the ceiling so I stood, fly swatter in hand, and waited. He flew. I swatted the air as he flew. I swatted the vanity beside the sink. I swatted high and low. And then silence. No sound or sight of Pesky. I waited a minute or so. Guess I’d unknowingly won the fight.

When I opened the bathroom door, Pesky flew over my shoulder into the bedroom. Husband had turned on his bedside light and held his book in hand. Pesky buzzed from one side of the room to the other, barely missing my head. “I hate dandelions and TV commercials and flies!” I said. “It’s your turn! I give up.”

By the time I settled under the bed covers and found the page in my book where I’d stopped reading, Husband swatted once and said, “Got him. You must have worn him down.” Yep, I’m sure that’s what happened.

Filed under: Everyday Life | Tagged: dandelions, Flies, hate, TV commercials | Leave a comment »

Life Goes Around

Posted on July 4, 2013 by susanrray

Many years ago, Husband and I lived the life that Son and my favorite Daughter-in-law are living now. I’d forgotten some things about life with a two-year old toddler and a newborn, but it all came back to me during a weeklong visit with Son and his family.

When a toddler goes to bed at 7:00 p.m., he gets up at 5:30 a.m. When he goes to bed at 8:00, he gets up at 5:30.

Newborn diapers are the size of a standard letter envelope.

Bananas taste better when you hold the whole banana. Why did I ever think my toddler Grand would like a banana cut into slices?

Newborns relax and sleep when they are swaddled tightly in a blanket, and swaddling takes practice. My three-week old Grand squirmed enough to free his arms when I wrapped him, but he stayed tightly cocooned when his mother swaddled him.

Newborns spit up within thirty minutes after being dressed in a clean outfit.

It’s fun to see the big green garage truck stop in front of your house. A city worker dumps the contents of your fifty-gallon trashcan into the back of the truck and then the trash is all gone.

Don’t say ‘outside’ unless you plan to go outside. And don’t say ‘take a walk,’ unless you are ready to go outside right that minute and take your toddler with you.

A walk around the block is an adventure. Yellow flowers, smooth rocks, and Linden tree leaves are treasures.

Choose a book that you truly like to read aloud. After I read the last page of Dr. Seuss’s There’s a Wocket in My Pocket, my toddler Grand immediately said, “Agen!” By the fourth reading, I wished I’d chosen a different book.

When you take a newborn to the grocery store, other shoppers who are close by walk slowly and speak softly.

A towel draped over a kitchen table chair is a perfect hiding place, and a toddler is quiet when he hides.

Peek-a-boo is a laugh out loud game. I covered my face with my hands and said, “Where’s Dan?” My toddler Grand dumped the wooden blocks out of a plastic tub and covered his head. He lifted the tub and giggled when I simply said, “Peek-a-boo!”

Newborns cry when they are hungry or have a dirty diaper or need to burp. And sometimes a newborn cries and only he knows why.

A toddler can be one second away from a melt down, especially when he is tired or hungry.

It’s makes you happy when you serve a second helping of your home-cooked spaghetti to a toddler, and he pumps his fists and says “Oh, yeah!”

A wooden train set can entertain a toddler for at least twenty minutes, several times a day. Eight train cars can be lined up in many different ways.

When a newborn sleeps in your arms, you should sit perfectly still and savor every moment.

It’s okay to go to bed before dark. The toddler in his room. The grandmother in hers.

###

Filed under: Family, Grandchildren | Tagged: Grandchildren, Grandparents, toddler and newborn | Leave a comment »

To My Youngest Grand

Posted on June 30, 2013 by susanrray

Dear Neil,

I blew a kiss. Did you catch it? Your mother’s holding you tightly. You’re wearing the little blue outfit that you wore home from the hospital. You’re only two weeks old – a newborn. And Pop’s and my sixth grandchild. You are perfect!

Pop and I see you on our computer. Your clinched fists, your squinted eyes, your wrists and ankles with tiny creases, your black, short, straight hair. Do you look like your big brother? A bit. Same cute nose and round face.

Real soon I get to hold you. Hug you. Kiss you. Rock you. Read to you. And even change a diaper or two. Seeing you through the magic of video talk is better than hearing your parents describe you over the telephone, but I need to hold you in my arms. Watch you stretch your fists high over your head as you awaken. Smack your lips when you are hungry. Cross your legs under your bottom when you sleep. I even want to hear you cry. Your way of saying, “Help me!” and I must figure out what you need.

I wonder if the experts are right. They say that newborns can focus best at 8 -12 inches and that people’s faces are your favorite things to see. Colors are difficult for you to distinguish; simple black and white pictures are best. So I’ll get close when I talk to you, and I’ll draw black and white stick-person pictures to hang in your room.

You hear well. And you most like to hear people talk to you. Especially when the sounds you make are repeated. That’s why we grandparents babble so. We’re speaking your language. And you like everyday sounds. When your two-year-old brother squeals and sings as he plays with balls and cars, you must be happy. According to experts, you like to be touched – you know that you’re loved and cared for when you’re held and hugged and kissed. I didn’t need an expert to tell me that!

Someone actually did a sweet and sour taste test to see which flavor newborns prefer. Of course, you’d choose sugar water over lemon-flavored water. When you’re a little older, I’ll feed you ice cream instead of sour apple popsicles. Your sense of smell is developed enough that you turn away from unpleasant odors. I’m sure you like the smell of your mother’s chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven.

Neil, you’ll be a newborn for such a short time. One day you’ll lie on the floor, kick your legs, and turn over. And later you’ll get up on your hands and knees, rock back and forth, move a few inches, and crawl. And by this time next year, you’ll be walking!

But for now, you are content to have your belly full, be warm, and sleep. I can hardly wait to swaddle you in a blanket and cradle you in my arms. As a friend said, “There’s nothing as sweet as holding a newborn. They wad up in your arms. Just a little bundle of love.”

Love you forever,

Gran

Filed under: Grandchildren | Tagged: Grandchildren, Grandparents | 1 Comment »

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