OH BOY

Is it true what they say?  

That little girls are sugar and spice and everything nice?

And little boys are frogs and snails and puppy dogs tails?

...Could be.

When I look at our granddaughter and our grandson, 

I certainly see a difference.

When Jake, our 3 year old grandson, arrived last night for a sleepover... I couldn't help it.  My first thoughts:

Jake's stuffed puppy is rough and rugged and his blankie the same.  Just like him.

 and just the opposite of Rissi's soft and 

sweet pink blankie and bear.

Jake doesn't stay with us that often.  

And when he does, I'm reminded of why...

He's quick and busy and unpredictable.

Once in my office when he was visiting at Miracle Ear, he quickly grabbed a large piece of hard candy and when his mommy tried to retrieve it, he swallowed...  and the candy became lodged in his throat.  After paging every Sears employee who knew CPR and then calling 911, we pleaded with a then bluish Jake...  "Please, Jake...  breath!"  The rescue squad soon arrived and took him to the hospital to check him out.  My hands shook as I cleaned the puke from the  office floor, thankful that our boy was going to be okay.  

Another time when we were at the fair, his mommy and daddy went to get something to eat and put me in charge of the Jake-ster who was sitting in his stroller.  Suddenly he pulled himself out and started running into the thick crowd and I ran after him...  and yes, when this terror-filled old Grammy finally scooped him up she paddled his butt and put him back in his stroller.  "Now you stay there!" I screamed at him.  He'd never seen Grammy that angry with him before.  He folded his arms, and wouldn't speak... but he was safe, and I didn't care that he was angry with me.     

  It seems he always acts before he thinks. 

And while I'm drawing pictures of flowers  

and beautiful sunshiny days...  trying to convince him he should join me...  

He's trying to turn cars upside down...

But Jake has a soft side. 

 He has the sweetest personality

 and this morning when he woke up 

(at 6:30 am...  eeek!) 

 He climbed up into my chair with me and said, 

"I like to snuggle with you Grammy..."  

How can you not melt? 

 Even though the coffee's not kicked in yet... 

 and you're still half asleep?

And he sure was happy to bring me 

this flower he picked from outside. (below)

I love him with all my heart. 

 And he's ALL BOY!

Dear Diary,
The boy chases me, throws all of my toys on the floor, and won't share his pancakes.  He also calls me Teddy.  That's not my name. Gracie. 

A Little Strange Maybe?

I had  heard stories about Suzie, but one warm spring day I would finally meet her in person. 

It was early 90's and my almost daily visits to the assisted living apartment building where my mom lived, never happened without my 2  year old daughter Lindsey tagging along with her baby doll of choice.   Lindsey loved visiting Grandma.  It was warm in her apartment and it seemed that the sun brightened Grandma's small apartment even on the coldest and cloudiest of days. 

One day shortly after we arrived, Mom got a phone call from the man upstairs. 

No - I mean...  really - the man upstairs. 

His name was Oney.  He wanted us to come up to his apartment. 

Oney had cancer and according to Mom, he was a little 'strange' but very kind. 

He lived alone in his 3rd floor apartment.  Well...  he wasn't quite alone.  He did have Suzie. 

Suzie was a doll.

Suzie was his life. 

He spent much of his day in his rocking chair by the window, singing and talking to her...  and rocking her back and forth. 

A little strange, eh? 

Or maybe just different...  who can say.

When we arrived at Oney's apartment he kissed Suzie on the forehead, 

then he asked Lindsey if she would adopt her and take care of her. 

"I've watched you just about every day for the past year," Oney said.  "You get out of your car and walk to the building..  and this little girl always holds her doll tightly in her arms, taking such good care of it, sometimes talking to it and kissing it.   I know Suzie will have a good home with her." 

Tears filled his eyes as he watched us walk away.  He died several months later. 

  We painted Suzie's  nails and lips and put a wig on her tattered, matted hair.  Then we'd dress her, according to whatever holiday was close.

She was always 'hanging around' and she was loved. 

When Lindsey grew up, and didn't care to have her anymore...

and when she started getting in my way

 (and spooking me when she'd stare at me with those stone cold piercing greenish eyes),

we sold her on ebay. 

I guess there comes a time in our lives

when we must just move on. 

Oh Poop!

Blogger has been a real pain lately and has kept me from visiting and commenting on blogs.  Yesterday it moved at a snails pace and wouldn't let me visit my own blog with much success either.  Today is a new day, and so far... so good.

Yesterday while Gary and I was walking Gracie, Gary commented on her # of poops.  

Gary:  Look at her.  I can't believe she's pooping again.  She just pooped in the yard before we left the house.  

Me:  She just wants to give me something to pick up.  

 *stooping down with my black poopy bag and 

scooping up a tiny, hard bm*

Gary:  Gracie, you're something!  

*We walk a few more yards.

Gary: Look!  There she goes again!!  Gracie, you don't even have to go.  And of course you have to try to squeeze one out right here in somebody's yard.  You're something!!

*Gracie throws Gary a dirty look... then continues her walk with her nose to the pavement*

Gary:  Unbelievable!  She's going again!!  

*Gracie crouches, trying hard...*

Me:  Gracie.  Really!!!  

*by now... I'm on my 3rd and last doggie bag.  It's obvious that she doesn't have to go...  she's just adding to the smell of others along the way*

*Her back legs are trembling as she tries hard to push one out.  Then... I think...  there must be something wrong*

Me:  Gary!  Look!!  There's something wrong.  

*I bend down and get a closer look and she looks pitifully at me as she tries hard to produce something.  But what I see is a tiny pencil thin bm along with a huge red oval shaped... something that had just come out of her.  My poor baby!!*

Dear Diary,
Mom says the leaves are pretty this time of year.  Maybe that's why her and dad took me for a walk tonight.  I didn't have to go (I'd already went... if you know what I mean) (as sophie would say... wink, wink!)  Anyways...  getting on with my story...  Mom says the leaves are pretty this time of year, but not when the big red ones are stuck to my butt.  She say's Amber de-weenie would appreciate this story.  

* FYI - Don't feel too sorry for the dog.  It was just a leaf stuck to her butt from her constant crouching.  She's fine*

Gracie:  Easy for you to say..  can we say...  humiliated?!?...