Except when I'm being Gram

I am a rule follower.  I like it when people have schedules and adhere to a routine and do what they say they're gonna do.

Except when I'm being Gram. In the case of being Gram, I realize schedules and routine don't particularly matter to me. We sort of "fly by the seats of our pants" when we're together.

I say what I mean and mean what I say. I'm a teacher, after all. When I ask a student to do something, I expect that to be done or there will be a consequence. 

Except when I'm being Gram. The Little Girls get all the chances to meet my expectations they need. And if they decide they don't want to do it at all, I'll forgive them. I'll do it for them. I'll hug them while I do it for them.

I like a tidy house. Yes, I do. I enjoy the staging of certain holiday items with my regular decor. I worry about dog hair under chairs and dead bugs in the corners. I feel guilty about window sills and panes. I pride myself in keeping things picked up on a "as we go" basis so the housekeeping doesn't get on top of me.

Except when I'm being Gram. It gets pretty bad (and FAST) before we get around to picking up after ourselves. When we're playing, let the Monopoly money fall where it may. We might need it again when we're pretending to take train trips to "Beechago" (Chicago) and Hawaii and Alaska and San Francisco...all of these in the mind of a five year old. She stops the train in Chicago to go to the American Girl store and begins to shop the upstairs playroom for items she bought. Magnolia follows suit, gathering doll clothes and blankets and decks of cards she purchased as well. Oh well. They'll all get put back eventually.

This is no where close to the way I was as a young mom. I mean, that's where these rules started working for me. So what is it about being a grandparent that makes normal, structured people become so wishy-washy?

When the Grandgirls Aren't Here

When the grandgirls ARE here, there's usually popcorn, Diet Coke and movies. There's usually toys everywhere upstairs because we like to play with a lot of stuff at once, especially "tickets", as Cora calls it, where we use the Monopoly money and real estate cards to zip to and fro on the train. I'm told I'm the conductor and they are the passengers. We visit the American Girl store in Chicago, special museums there too. (We even went to Hawaii on the train last time the girls were here.) When they're here, the girls have certain things they love to do, like swing on the tire swing and "the blue swing" and the front porch swing, pick up pecans, read books, put together puzzles, play in the backyard. They love bubbles on the front step too.

But then it's time for the girls to go home.

And when the grandgirls AREN'T here, especially right after they've left, that's when we start reliving the time we had together. We laugh about their differing personalities and some of their demands requests. I ask Vaughn if he heard Goo say what she said. He, of course, heard it, or heard about it, but wants to hear it again. I do my best to use the same voice she used to tell Cora, "HEY, it's MY turn!" We look back through the photos we attempted to take (usually with little success...they aren't ever BOTH ready to pose). We get to use our technology again (when they're here, they love to play with our iPhones and iPad and computers and...). We get the house all back together again, but immediately look forward to the day they come back and enjoy it with us again.

Snippets from the last few visits with the girls:

Cora's vocabulary is extensive for a just-turned-5 girl. She used a recent third grade vocabulary word to tell me she "caught a glimpse of a episode" on television. Wow.

Magnolia is very much a second child and wants to claim what's hers. She and Brannon (Becky's grandson) are both quite vocal about MINE and HEY when playing together.

When I asked Magnolia where Parker lives, she knew. She said "Colo-raw-doe" in the cutest voice.

Cora and I worked quite a lot on reading. She would read a chapter, then notice Magnolia playing something on the iPad and want to put the book down, but within a few minutes, she'd be back, intrigued by her new-found reading skills. Minutes later, Goo wanted to draw on the giant chalkboard in our entryway, and while drawing she was sounding out words like she had just heard Cora do with me. It was so cute, her wanting to be a big girl and read too.

Tangles happened when the girls were here last. Offey says we have to buy some special conditioner or something. He didn't like the tears when he was in charge of combing.

Magnolia usually wears cloth diapers, but at my house, we go disposable. She loves Mickey Mouse diapers and talks during every diaper change about Mickey and Minnie. She also loves Elmo diapers. She's not willing to discuss using the toilet at this point. 

Both girls know my Jeep's name is "Joe". Magnolia can't wait to ride in "Joe COR", pronounced a little like someone might say it who was from New York. She's still in a rear-facing car seat and has been known lately to pinch or poke Cora in Joe Car when we can't see her.

Cora has called us "Tracey" and "Vaughn" off and on for years. Now it's Magnolia's turn to do that. Cracks us up. When she does call me Gram, it comes out like "GREM". I love it any ol' way she wants to say it.

And last, but not-at-all the end of the cuteness my grandgirls displayed while here, instead of kisses, Cora is in a phase (I hope) of licking her loved ones.

A Gathered Collection: Treasured Ornaments and Decorations

Christmas has come down from the attic closet, this year with a tornadic whirlwind of just a few hours time. NEVER in the history of all my Christmas decorating have I finished putting out my collections in three hours, but this year, that has happened. Mostly this decorating frenzy occurred because of my broken arm and the pain and frustration I've been dealing with. Vaughn and Parker pitched in and we conquered, and I mean it exactly like that, People, CONQUERED the Christmas decorating. I have to admit it didn't turn out half-bad, considering I didn't mess with it much, you know, sitting and contemplating and rearranging and CLEANING...(nah, none of that this year). 

But now that it's done and my pain is a lot less, I'm thinking about my favorite Christmas doo-dads and thought you might like to hear more about them.

The Willow Tree nativity was collected with great sacrifice through a 3 or 4 year period, each set or piece added being as special as the next. The idea was sparked in Colorado, I think, at a Christmas store. The large collection on the store shelf was so big and powerful, yet quiet and still. I wanted my Christmas home to include the "O Holy Night" feeling this set gave me...the reason for the season. I started with Jesus and Mary and Joseph, then kept collecting at quite a slow pace. Some came from that Christmas store, some from online sales I found once and awhile. Some pieces were gifts from friends. Vaughn made the creche (when he saw the price they were asking). I'm glad he's so talented (and willing to help me).

Of course the grandgirls love this nativity and have moved and rearranged the pieces before, but this vintage plastic set is right on their level on the coffee table, put there on purpose so they can live and relive that special night as they please (and without Gram hovering quite so much).

It totally blows my mind that this tree topper from the 50's (I would think) has made it through to 2012. You know me, you have to know the story. It belonged to Willard and Oleta Turpin, who were neighbors of ours when we bought our first house. Jake was 2 months old when we got to know them. I have the box (that's one reason I suppose it's survived) and I love taking it out each year and admiring it's color and style. I don't think I've ever put it on the top of the tree, strangely enough. It usually ends up in a bowl with other vintage friends like it has this year.

I have a serious love affair going on with Jim Shore snowmen. My gathering of 7 snowmen is totally enough (the class and I have been studying wants and needs this week) but I sure wouldn't hate it if another one or two came to stay at my house. The collection was started with my friends Sue and Judy in Estes Park, Colorado one year. Of course we've contributed to the collections of our friends and that's helped them grow. I decorate with this adorable crew through January. They've been other places, but since I have this many and love them together better than apart, they have lived on the piano for the past few winters, where we'll later-on-in-the-season enjoy lots of Christmas carols with Jake playing. Oh what sweet times these snowmen have seen, watching faces filled with Christmas joy gather around them, singing and loving. That.was.mushy.

Speaking of caroling, sweet, little, vintage carolers are becoming a problem. The junkier-looking, the better. Shabby fits in perfectly at my house. If it looks like it was on Grandma's end table every year for 50 years, I couldn't be happier. Since we were decorating this year at super-speed, it was easy to gather them and plop them in one space in the dining area.  They like it here.

Plastic reindeer that were more than likely 29 cents or less at a TG&Y or a Ben Franklin somewhere are another love for me. I have a few hanging on the tree and some gathered here in the kitchen. They're still and quiet, like I need to remember to be sometimes.

As each year goes by, I plus and minus a little Christmas decor; adding the nostalgic, the wabi-sabi, subtracting the trendy.

You're off the hook. Because it's a sunny December, my photos are giving me fits, so I'll stop here. Next year I'll continue my tour of Christmas at the Johnson house, probably with some of the same displays.

(Don't be surprised if we decorate family-style again next year...I sorta liked getting it all accomplished with less time involved.) That way I got to spend good quality time doing what I love to do during the holidays...turning the lights down low and enjoying the lights on the tree and the feeling of Christmas.

Merry Christmas!

I Almost Never Feel Young Anymore

We had planned the roller skating excursion for weeks. I had long anticipated the feeling of being on skates again.

I was a good skater when I was a kid, going to the local rink in Independence, Missouri nearly every week for some of those elementary/junior high years. (Not relevant to the story, but I DID have a slight concussion and spend an entire night in the hospital after a skating fall years ago.)

Vaughn had never been a skater as a kid, so I was quite surprised when he ordered his size 10s at the skate counter.

Putting the skates on didn't frighten me one bit. In fact, it seemed very familiar in a weird way, since it had been about 20 years since I'd been on a pair last.

I have to admit when I first stood up on them and started trying to roll around on the carpet, before entering the rink, I wondered if I could do this thing anymore. I mean, I'm 48 these days. It seemed like I needed more effort to make the wheels go than I had remembered as a youngster.

Fast forward about a minute, the time it took me to get to the entry of the coolest rink ever (Norman Star Skate).

Instantaneously, I transformed into this young girl again, feeling free and fun, giddy and girlish, my hair blowing as I traveled faster than I had even anticipated. I went around the rink once, twice, several more times, then went back to the short wall to see Vaughn and check to see if the grandgirls had arrived. Sure enough, there they came. I kissed Magnolia and helped Cora get her skates on and assisted her on her first ring around the rosy, I mean the rink. Brie came along and we made it around again with Cora in tow. I had found my skating legs again and was loving every minute.

This is where something went bad wrong. I was standing, not moving, along a short wall, visiting mostly. Some friends and I had all stopped to rest/visit while some kind of Hokey Pokey or something like that was going on. Maybe it was the Limbo. (Oh, I used to be good at that too.) I was talking with some friends about the good ol' days of skating and was dragging my skate sideways to show how I used to stop myself. Next thing I know I'm falling, for like forever. I reached out for the short wall and my skates took my legs and bottom half the other direction, pulling my arm really hard. I felt the pain in my arm instantly and couldn't put any weight on it to get myself up. I recovered in a few seconds and was able to stand. For a little while I tried to tell myself I was okay. I swung my arms around and everything seemed okay. I ate some Hot Tamales and drank a root beer while the grandgirls ate their snacks.

As I began to feel more pain when raising my arm, I realized it would be a good idea to get it x-rayed while in a larger town. Vaughn talked me into leaving the skating party then and going on over to Immediate Care to let them check me out. As we drove away I cried a few tears. That feeling of being young again, that fleeting feeling, was gone, gone, gone. That YES feeling was quickly replaced with a NO feeling of humiliation and even stupidity for thinking I could still do an activity from my childhood. I was so sad to leave the party. Magnolia, in Offey's lap, my sons skating and talking, Brie making rounds with Cora, friends laughing and enjoying time together...the time I had so looked forward to.

The results from that day's x-rays came back as no breaks, just a sprain. I got a sling to keep my arm still and took my prescriptions on home. I managed Monday at school with very few problems, although it was quickly apparent I should keep my right elbow stuck to my waist. By no means was I to try to lift my arm up to write on the board or pull or push anything. Late in the day on Monday I got a call from Immediate Care, advising me a second-opinion radiologist had looked over my x-rays and thought something looked suspicious on my shoulder. I have a CT scan set up for Wed. afternoon.

When people at work have asked me what I did to myself (the sling catches a lot of attention), I admit "roller skating". Almost everyone laughs. I figure they're thinking I shouldn't have been on skates at my age. Most everyone has a comment about skating and how dangerous it is.

But me, I secretly dream of the day I can do it again, maybe to a song like "S-A-T-U-R, D-A-Y NIGHT" or "The Locomotion".  I'm thinking it might be worth falling to get that feeling of joy I had before my fall. I mean, I almost never feel young anymore.

Day 1: Amsterdam to Basel on the SS Antoinette

It was the trip of this girl's lifetime.

Up until the day my bosom buddy, Sue, and I left, it had been only a dream, but beginning on July 12th, it became very real (although I kept pinching myself throughout).

My son Parker took us to the airport in Oklahoma City. He knows a lot about airports, especially Will Rogers World Airport, so when he decided to pull in the parking garage and find a spot, Sue mentioned to him that there was an easier way. She suggested he could have parked up at the top (where we usually park, actually). I was confused by his parking in the garage too, but later we both realized what he was trying to do, or not do.

You see, BrieAnn and the little grandgirls were trying desperately to get to the airport to surprise us as we left and Parker was concerned the surprise would be spoiled if he parked on top and BrieAnn did too.

Two darling little granddaughters came up with their ever-so-thoughtful mama, carrying a glittered over-the-top cute banner that read "Bon Voyage Gram & Sue!" We snapped a couple of pictures and did some kissing and hugging, then went on our way. What a blessed way to begin our trip.

Is this not the cutest thing? Magnolia was still sleepy from her afternoon nap, but Cora was pumped about the surprise.

Looking back at my waving family, I couldn't help but think I was the luckiest girl in the world. Such love.

Our flight from OKC took off a little late, so we narrowly made our connection in Detroit (1 minute to board). That was too close! No restroom break even! We were served a big meal (10:00 p.m. by now) and attempted to sleep while flying. So many people around us were totally zonked. We decided they must have been medicated.

I tried not to let the turbulence over the ocean and the fact that it was Friday the 13th by now get to me. We landed around 11:30 a.m. (their time...7 hours ahead of Oklahoma time) and headed through customs. The guy at the desk asked us why we were in Amsterdam...we told him a river cruise...he said to have a good time. That was all of the interrogation Amsterdam could muster, I guess. I had heard Amsterdam was a pretty do-whatever-you-like place and so far it was proving to be just that.

How to Enjoy a Hot Day in July

We spent a wonderful Sunday with Cora last weekend at the Jasmine Moran Childrens Museum in Seminole.  It's the perfect place to play on a hot summer day!

A huge version of Lite-Brite.  I loved this activity as a kid. She did too.

Cora and her friend bicycled together.

A fire truck!

Before we got to the museum I had told her about this activity. She was pretty excited to see how you could get inside a bubble.

A "pretty scary" slide required major skills (which she mastered).

"Again!"

Cora loved working at Homeland. She told me (the customer) to have a nice day.

"Tell me the numbers, Gram, and I will push them in."

Such fun.

She chose only healthy foods. I had some junk food in my cart.

The sand was a big hit. She would have stayed there all day.

I loved it too. The sand was COLD.

We had fun freezing our shadows.

We didn't do any of the activities outside. It was 105 or something like that. The plan is we'll go back in the fall and venture outside to ride the train.

What a great day with Cora.

Magnolia's growing and is almost ready for a maiden voyage to Gram and Offey's without her mama. Can't wait to have both the girls for a weekend soon.

Sunshine

Magnolia Jane McInnes Johnson: One cute one-year-old.

The theme of the party was Sunshine. Very appropriate, since this sweet little one makes you feel all sunny inside.

BrieAnn found some cute ideas online, then we combined our efforts to create a special, yellow, light-hearted Sunday afternoon birthday party.

My mom and I made cutesy banners with a discarded yellow chenille bedspread.

M is for Magnolia. And much-loved.

Brie made the prettiest cupcakes. It was hard to get this shot because Nolia wanted to try one....BAD.

These little doodads say: Magnolia Is One!

Duh. You knew the sunflower Fiesta would come to the show.

Mason jars and yellow daisies and balloons too.

 

 

Uh-oh. Instant sadness. We hope she forgets this part.

She didn't forget at the party, that's for sure. She had nothing to do with the cupcakes.

Big sister Cora sure did.

She had several. She especially loved the fluffy, yellow-sprinkled frosting.

She got gifts too. Not just packaging.

Love.

Showing off those new teeth. Three on bottom. In! Two teeth on top and one still playing peek-a-boo.

Finger foods: Nolia's favorites. Fruit, veggies, dips.

Fizzy Lemonade was a hit.

Oh, you want to know about Fizzy Lemonade. Take a gallon pitcher. Put in one package of Koolaid Lemonade, one large frozen lemonade, one cup sugar and one two-liter bottle of 7-Up. Fill the rest of the pitcher with water. Wonderful, fizzy, delicious lemonade. (Plan to drink all of it before the fizz dies. Then it's not so good. Perfect for parties.)

I got her the Happy Apple at a garage sale last week. She loves it.

Happy Birthday, Sunshine!

Be Tracey.

I've been reading again.

In Gretchen Ruben's book...you know, the one I've blogged about a few times before...

She tries to live by a rule. The rule is: Be Gretchen.

That's hard sometimes. To be (insert your name here).

To be authentic and real.

We start out pretty REAL. I mean, look at Magnolia. She's pretty much herself at 8 months.

When does it happen that we begin to think we're not enough, just like we are?

A friend of mine was telling me her 4 year old son came home from preschool saying his shoes were stupid. A classmate had shared that knowledge with him. That's too young to be questioning your shoes, your style. Your YOU.

I've been known to twist into something unknown to me (before I hopefully realize it and pull myself back together again). I change ME in order to do what I think will please someone else.

I like my style, but sometimes I think I should go with the flow. Not rock the boat. Comply. Wear what they wear. Do what she does. Live their life, not mine.

Does this ever happen to you?

This Gretchen. She's smart. I'm going to try to live by her rule.  And Be Tracey.

Magnolia Jane and the Picnic

Isn't she sweet? We met Jake and BrieAnn and Magnolia at a park in Shawnee when we did the Cora swap over the weekend.

Gram played kissy-face with her. And Offey played flying. Such fun.

Chicago Love

We waited and waited and waited for Vaughn and Parker to get to Chicago. To meet Magnolia. And to kiss her sister, Cora.

And me.

And of course to see Jake and BrieAnn, the proud parents.

Vaughn and Parker arrived at the apartment Friday evening in the middle of a horrible downpour. Their trip had been pretty miserable, with rain and hours of traffic jams.

But it was worth it all.

It was love. At first sight.

For everyone involved.

Including me. (It had been a long time since I'd seen my hubby.) Or Parker.

The next day I caught these two looking pretty cute.

All my guys like to skip rocks. And they're good at it. Seems Vaughn and Parker have the same technique.

And so after their ridiculous-number-of-hours trip on Friday and one day with the family in Chicago on Saturday, we three came home to Oklahoma in a regular-number-of-hours drive.

And left those four in their apartment in Chicago for about 6 weeks. And this is the good part...until they move to Oklahoma City August 1st.

It's good to be home.