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A Mothers’ Day Tribute

Posted by bettyscar on May 12, 2013 in Grammy Tales, Uncategorized

Mothers’ Day, a day set aside to let our mothers know how much we appreciate all that they are and all that they have done to help us along the sometimes bumpy road of becoming. While it is nice to be recognized on a special day, those of us who are mothers and grandmothers receive recognition every day of our lives.

This recognition has many forms: a brilliant smile when we arrive at our grandchildren’s homes; the hugs they so willingly give us; the miraculously cured aches and pains whenever we lift them into our arms; a simple phrase like “play with me, grandma” becomes a symphony to our ears; a drawing decorated with those “very special stickers” that their little hands so proudly made for us; an exchange of funny faces upon each departure, in order to ease the sadness we feel parting from one another; and the happy memories we hold onto until we are together once again. These are just a few of the ways in which our grandchildren enrich our otherwise ordinary lives.

We constantly receive recognition from our children. As much as we appreciate the card, small gift, email or phone call, our greatest present on Mothers’ Day is seeing our children blossom into the adults we always hoped they would become; young women and men who demonstrate a love for family and friends, possess strong values, display ethical behavior and are fair and open-minded. When our children display these strengths of character, our entire being swells with pride. The self-doubt that plagued us at times during our children’s developmental years disappears as both they and we age and grow wiser together.

When our children become parents, we receive further recognition upon seeing them pass their childhood memories onto their children: warm hugs after a trying day, Band-Aids covering phantom scrapes, kissing away tears of frustration, empathizing with hurt feelings, laughing over silly jokes that make little to no sense, making loud noises just for fun, blowing bubbles in tub water, playing pretend for hours on end, and always finding the time to listen, really listen.

Whenever I am thanked for babysitting, I want to say “Thank you!” Thank you for trusting me with your most precious gifts, your two beautiful daughters.  Thank you for reaffirming my belief that I was on the right track those many years ago, when I was riddled with self-doubt about my parenting skills. Thank you for enabling me to witness your exceptional devotion to each other and its affect upon your warm, loving children. As I observe you, I realize that you may be experiencing doubt over some of your decisions, but you should know that self-doubt is the sign of good parenting. It makes you think about your interactions in life, mull them over and reassess each situation. We don’t know all the answers, but we do our best when we think about the consequences of our actions.

So on this Mother’s Day, I want to let all mothers know that you have the most important job in life, far more important than any CEO of a big corporation. You are the CEOs of human development. You are the major shareholder in the values and ethics that will mold the future of this world. Your job is far from easy. It is often accompanied with tears, angst and frustration, but it is never dull, and its rewards are immeasurable. We, who have gone before you and generations to follow, place our trust in you. And from what I have witnessed through my limited involvement in the lives of my granddaughters, their friends and families, the future is in wonderful hands,

Happy Mother’s Day! This little phrase comes with deep appreciation and heartfelt thanks.

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An Invitation to Read

Posted by bettyscar on May 7, 2013 in Grammy Tales

Selecting the right book is one of the most important steps in generating excitement and developing young children’s interests in reading. The language should be on a level that is easily understood and the pictures should be vivid and engaging. It is a lesson I learned over and again during my teaching tenure and one that I apply as I peruse bookshelves when searching for a book for my grandchildren. So when our daughter Nancy asked us to read a story to May’s preschool classmates, Richard and I jumped at the chance. We had the perfect book!

 I first read Hey Little Ant by Phillip and Hannah Hoose to my grandniece Amanda’s first grade class and was delighted by how well it was received. The story is about a “kid” who is about to step on an ant, but his foot remains raised in midair as the ant pleads its case as to why it should live. The exchange of dialogue is entertaining, informative, written in verse, and illustrated from the perspectives of both the ant and the kid, all very appealing aspects for grabbing a child’s attention. What I particularly enjoy about the book is the way it ends by asking whether or not the kid should squash the ant.

On the day of our visit, May, upon seeing us enter her classroom, rushed to us with arms outstretched yelling, “Grammy, Grampy!” Music to our ears! As I held her close and felt her little arms wrap themselves around my neck, I became aware of how quickly this little love of our lives was growing and how fortunate we are to be a part of her ever-evolving world.

As visitors to the Land of the Lilliputians, Rich and I had to crouch down in order to enter the playhouse that served as the reading room. Once inside we sat, knees to nose, upon the tyke-sized chairs reserved for us, the honored guests.  Eleven bright-eyed, eager little bodies surrounded us waiting with high expectations to be entertained.

Ask children a question and an endless stream of answers is guaranteed to follow. It is a great icebreaker! So, we began our visit by asking May’s classmates how many of them had seen ants crawling on the ground and been tempted to step on them. Our simple question opened a flood of responses, each more fantastic than the previous one, as would be expected coming from the creative minds of uninhibited five-year-olds. Fact and fiction became intertwined as these budding biologists excitedly shared their limited knowledge of ants, bringing broad smiles to Richard’s and my faces. There is nothing as refreshing as the spontaneity of children when they are asked to offer their opinion on any subject.

Once everyone had the chance to speak, we began the story. Rich and I came equipped with two copies of the book with the intention of showing the illustrations while taking turns reading the text aloud, a very effective way to maintain young children’s interests in the story being read.

The book’s text increasingly leads its readers to feel compassion for this tiny speck of nature that lay at the mercy of the “kid’s” moral dilemma. By story’s end, when the question of squashing or not squashing the ant was raised to our enwrapped listeners, ten of the eleven children sympathized with the ant and yelled out a resounding “NO!” the exception being a free-spirited little boy who had no qualms about squashing ants. It is always refreshing to witness how preschoolers openly state what is on their minds without the weight of worrying about appearances, a benefit to being so very young.

As a memento of our visit, May gave miniature rubber ants and jumping beans to her friends.  While May’s classmates excitedly watched their jumping beans move about in their little hands, Rich and I feasted our eyes upon the happiness that radiated from our granddaughter’s small face. She was the star of the day and we felt profound joy that we were there to watch her shine.

May and her sister Eloise are our motivation to be all that they would want in grandparents. And so we continue…

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A Toddler’s World

Posted by bettyscar on November 13, 2012 in Activities for Children, Grammy Tales

Have you ever watched toddlers as they begin begin to discover their world?  Watched them as they pick up a leaf that had fallen from a tree and then look up towards the sky in wonder? Moments like these revive our senses to the boundless beauty that exists in our everyday lives. Thank heaven for little children!

Eloise is now one year and three months old, an age that is filled with discovery. Recently I had been asked to watch Eloise while her mother and father shared “special time” with her older sister, May.  Like most toddlers, Eloise was not one to sit idle and required a mega dose of stimulation to appease her budding curiosity. The morning threatened rain so we played lots of toddler games in the house

Playing with a toddler takes an exhaustive amount of energy. With a limited attention span and equally limited fine and gross motor coordination, planning activities for a toddler becomes a hit or miss situation, which is exactly what happened during Eloise and my rainy Sunday morning together. However, after many misses, I discovered much about my youngest granddaughter and what brings her enjoyment.

In life, there are carnivores, herbivores and omnivores, but there is also the additional classification that toddlers fall into; the category of  “all-else-avores.” This latest category is most troublesome for grown-ups, especially for this grammy. It is the category that requires constant vigilance, a discerning eye and anticipatory behavior. As I sat on the floor playing with Eloise, my eyes constantly scanned the room for areas that might lure her into potentially hazardous situations, because sure enough, if there is the tiniest particle of paper, bit of metal or piece of plastic to be found, it will find its way into Eloise’s mouth. Discovery through taste seems to dominate a toddler’s world. Especially a toddler like Eloise, a real chow-puss.

As I sat on the floor placing all kinds of “educational” toys in front of Eloise, the Sesame Street Busy Box, the chime ball that plays music when rolled across the floor, the toy cell phone, and the many “Lift and Look” books for toddlers, I discovered that her favorite thing to do was make noise. It made sense to me. Everyone under the age of responsibility likes noise. So we banged the plastic ball on the floor and tapped the coffee table with our hands and moved our bodies to the rhythms we created

With her limited attention span waning, it was time to switch activities and get our muscles moving. At my age, my muscles are inclined to rebel against sudden movements, but when it comes to my granddaughter, they can groan all they like. I am not about to let age stand in the way of doing things that will bring enjoyment to both her and me. So, we played “run and hide,” a simple game where I ran around the house hiding behind nooks and crannies and saying “Boo” as Eloise approached. Eloise in turn would run away and I would chase after her, grab her into my arms and swing her around. It was a game that she loved and one that I was able to modify so that she could take a lead.

Eloise never tired of this little activity, but I found that my breath was getting shorter and my muscles were beginning to ache under the stress of running and lifting. If I was to survive the remaining hour or so before the return of her parents, I had better come up with a less strenuous activity. I decided, drizzle or no, I would take Eloise for a walk in her stroller.

Fall happens to be my favorite time of the year. The colorful leaves that twirl through the air, propelled by autumn breezes, serve to reawaken my love of nature after the heat-filled, sluggish days of summer. We are all products of our environment and, as I step into leaf-filled yards and streets, I am constantly reminded of my father’s tremendous influence upon developing my love of nature.

As I walked Eloise around her neighborhood, I paused occasionally to pick up a leaf and put it into her little hand (again, keeping a watchful eye over her propensity to put things into her mouth). We stopped to watch a squirrel scurrying over branches of trees, and looked at the many fall decorations that adorned the various yards we passed. I pointed out the tiny asters and ferns that bordered the streets, in the event that she just might be capable of retaining some understanding of nature’s magnificence.

It began to drizzle a bit harder so we headed for home. When it was time to take Eloise out of her stroller, she began to yell. My husband thought her crying was due to her feet getting caught as we tried to lift her, but we quickly realized that Eloise, regardless of the changing weather, wanted to remain out-of-doors. So, I held her tiny hand in mine and we walked down the street.

It was at this point of our morning together that my emotions reached an all time high. Letting go of my hand, Eloise toddled about and I watched. I watched as she kicked the autumn leaves with her little feet over and again, discovering their rustling sounds. I watched as she plopped herself down on her neighbor’s lawn and gently touched the seeds that crowned the stem of a dandelion, taking each seed off, one by one, and watching it fly away into the wind. I watched as she looked towards the sky and laughed as leaves fell from trees swaying in the mild autumn breeze. And as I watched, I wondered, “What must she be thinking? What is it like to see the world with fresh, unbiased eyes?”

As Eloise sat, discovering her world, Jeremy, Nancy and May pulled up in their car and called out to her. Our morning had come to an end and Eloise was happily off to greet her family. As she toddled off to the arms of her sister and parents, I watched as a moment of quiet reflection became transformed into one of frenetic energy. Eloise was with her mom, dad, and sister, and all was right with her world.

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A-May-zing New York

Posted by bettyscar on November 4, 2012 in Activities for Children, Grammy Tales

“What must she be thinking?” I wonder, as I watch May’s sparkly eyes take in the frenetic pace of New York City.  The cacophony of sounds emanating from the many diverse cultures that hurry along crowded streets, creating a flurry of endless activity must seem overwhelming to such a small child. Or is it I, who is overwhelmed by what was once my home, and who tightly grasps the hand of this precious child in fear of losing her in the vast sea of feet, hands and bodies? All of a sudden, for the first time in my life, I see New York City in a different light.  After many years, I see the city where I grew up, was educated and worked, through the eyes of a child and I too am filled with awe.

After our sojourn to the Bronx Zoo, May was hungry and tired. So, we thought, what better place to eat than Chinatown? May was adept with chopsticks and we were guaranteed that she, a picky eater, would love the cuisine since her favorite things to eat are fried wontons and sesame noodles. Besides, the car ride through midtown Manhattan on the way would give May a bit more of an idea about the magnitude of New York City without its being too taxing on her already tired, little, body.

Chinatown is truly a unique experience, one of which I never tire. Shops spill over onto sidewalks with their many colorful wares, each holding special appeal to both grown-ups and children alike. May’s head was spinning with excitement as she took in the mechanical dog chasing after a ball, wind-up fish swimming in pools of water, brightly adorned fans, silk pajamas, wooden umbrellas, toy trucks and the innumerable objects that were being “hawked” by the proprietors of the various shops. Look first, we advised, then she could her get one special toy after dinner.

The Peking Duck House measured up to all expectations. Our waiter, aware of May’s disappointment over the restaurant’s lack of chopsticks for children, created a special pair with the aid of rubber bands, much to May’s delight.  We all watched in amazement as May adeptly used her chopsticks to slurp up each long strand of noodle, never once lifting her head from her task. Meal finished, toy bought, we headed for home gaily singing “Do, Re, Mi,” from the Sound of Music.

The next morning led us to brunch at the New York Athletic Club where May could once again enjoy the waffles that left a lasting impression from her last visit, and where grandpa could once again show his granddaughter off to his friends. Brunch completed, we set off for the Metropolitan Museum of Art for a bit of culture.

Immediately upon entering the museum, we found ourselves amid thousands of people who shared the same thought about how to pass a rainy Sunday afternoon. With May securely held in our arms, we bypassed the long lines  of people waiting to purchase tickets and made our way  into the ancient Egypt wing of the museum. Membership does have its privileges!

Richard and I had often been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art  when our daughters were little and we looked forward to sharing the experience with May. Not wanting to bear the responsibility of leaving their haunting images on May’s mind, we rushed her through the many sarcophagi and their mummified remains en route to The Temple of Dendur, a less crowded and open area where May could stretch her little body. I can’t say whether or not the temple made any impression on May, but it gave the rest of us a bit of a respite from the crowds.

Our continued search for open space led us to the modern art galleries. May stood mesmerized in front of an abstract wall hanging entitled Dusasa II, a huge sculpture made of aluminum, copper wire, and plastic disks that for some reason appealed to her creative nature. With the many shades of brown seemingly tossed haphazardly on canvas, perhaps she was thinking, “I could do that,” and perhaps she could. I never understood the lure of abstract art, but then again, I like art to give me a glimpse into the lives of the artists, their travels, and the people they met along their journey.  Perhaps the appeal of abstract art lies in its bold colors and seemingly haphazard approach, traits that are such a pronounced part of a child’s carefree early years. Just a thought!

After a final trip to the museum shop where she chose a small remembrance for herself and one for her sister Eloise, we carried an exhausted May to the car and headed for home. May’s New York adventure had come to its end until the next time she, and perhaps Eloise, can discover another small part of this huge city.  For grown-ups and children alike, the many wonder-filled facets of New York need to be enjoyed in small doses. How fortunate we are as grandparents to be able to once again appreciate its greatness through the eyes of our granddaughter. We Love NY!

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A Granddaughter’s New York Experience (Part One)

Posted by bettyscar on October 14, 2012 in Activities for Children, Children's Book Recommendations, Grammy Tales

“May at the Bronx Apartment” might not sound as elegant as Eloise at the Plaza, but for a four and a half-year old visiting New York, the experience is equally impressive, as witnessed by our granddaughter’s recent visit to The Big Apple.

I am a great one for planning, and plan I did! In two brief days, we visited the Bronx Zoo, Chinatown, the New York Athletic Club for Brunch, Dylan’s Candy Bar, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, and Liebman’s Kosher Deli in Riverdale, Bronx. Each venue had its own way of making May’s visit to New York City a memorable one for her and for us.

When we first arrived at the Bronx Zoo, my husband and I had the sinking feeling that perhaps we had made a mistake in our planning. As we walked towards the entrance, May clung to her mother’s body saying, “I don’t want to go to the zoo. I don’t want to see the tigers and elephants.” I couldn’t understand why she was so adamant over something that she was looking forward to for so long. Then it hit me!

I recalled one of those “tell me a story about mommy and Aunt Jessica” moments May and I had when she was three years old and getting ready for bed. I told her a “funny” story about how an elephant had sneezed all over her aunt when she was a toddler. At that time May thought this story to be funny so I went on to tell her about the cow that swung its food bucket towards Aunt Jessica’s head when we visited the Children’s Zoo. Then, as an added bonus, I told her the story about how a goat once started to eat her great-grandmother’s skirt when we visited a petting zoo. Once again, May and I laughed over all of the funny things that animals are capable of doing.

As I’ve stated before, never underestimate the brain of a small child. May held onto those stories and stored them in the recesses of her mind. Now these anecdotes had come back to haunt me.

Nancy, May’s mom, saved the day. As she carried May through the gates, she softly spoke reassuring words to her and advised that we start our tour at the Children’s Zoo section, whereas I, a senior who stresses over the lengthy lines that build as the day wears on, wanted to start our tour at Wild Asia, a major zoo attraction. Thankfully, Nancy won out and May loved feeling the tickle of the goats’ mouths as they fed from her hand, putting her head between sculptured rabbit ears, comparing her jumping distance with that of a frog, sliding down the huge tree slide, and playing the role of prairie dog as she peeked her head out from holes built into a makeshift mountain.

While I watched May participate in all of the attractions, I thought of how I could adapt the things that she found so enjoyable to games children could play in yards and playgrounds. It would be easy to mark off different distances of animals that leap (this information can be found on the internet) and have children compare their jumping skills to various animals. Children love to make comparisons.

Totally relaxed and ready for more adventure, May proclaimed, “I like the zoo!” Relief flooded over us and our steps led us to the Wild Asia where May was able to see and enjoy the beauty of the previously dreaded tiger within the safety of the monorail. Rhinos bathing in mud, elephants grazing in meadows and a red panda hanging from a tree enthralled our budding zoologist. We were on a roll! Now for the pièce de résistance; we were ready to move onto the prize exhibit, one that May was looking forward to ever since she heard how it was a favorite of Ella, our friend Joan’s three-year-old granddaughter.

I am constantly learning valuable lessons from observing the reactions of our granddaughter. I have learned how important it is to preview or, at the very least, be knowledgeable about planned excursions. I have also learned both through my teaching experience and observing May that what is enjoyable for one child is not necessarily enjoyable for another, as was the case with Ella’s reaction verses that of May.

Happily anticipating seeing Dora the Explorer, May patiently waited outside the theater, looking very grown-up in her 3D glasses. Nancy and I were a bit confused about the film being shown in 4D, never having heard the term before, but we knew Dora and hey, 3D is great, therefore seeing Dora’s adventures in 4D could only be better. We were soon to find out what 4D meant as we sat in the darkened theater.

With exit doors closed, we felt water splash over us and our seats vibrate as Dora travelled through the jungle on foot and by plane in pursuit of a robotic butterfly out to destroy the tropical rainforest. I was seated in another row and was unaware of May’s reaction to this incredible “journey,” but I was fully aware of the children about me; some crying, some screaming with excitement. “Which category would May fall into?” I wondered.

Upon exiting the theater, Nancy looked frazzled to the core and May had on her saddest face, the kind of face that breaks a grandmother’s heart.

“Did you hear her screaming and crying? It was awful. She wanted to leave, but the doors were shut and I had to try to calm her in the darkened theater while the vibrations of the seats exacerbated the noise of the movie. They should have a caveat posted, ‘Warning this movie is not for appropriate for all children,’” my  daughter exclaimed.

Nancy had a valid point. I remembered back to one of my classroom experiences when I was reading Roald Dahl’s book, The Witches to my second grade students, a book that I felt was sure to have universal appeal. Tentative about asking her teacher to stop reading a book that the rest of her classmates were enjoying, one little girl in my class held her fears in check until she was able to voice them to her parents. Fortunately, her mother called me to inform me about her anxiety and I was able to remedy the situation by having several copies of the book on hand and inviting any and all who were interested in finding out more about the story to borrow a copy and read it at home with their parents. Of course, I had to lay the groundwork before implementing my plan, but the results were favorable to all and my sensitive student was happy.

Not all children are the same. May is extremely proficient with her use of vocabulary and knowledgeable about a variety of subjects. Like many of today’s children, she has been exposed to a wider world through technology and asks limitless questions about what she sees and hears. Although May seems savvy beyond her years, her outward affectations belie her sensitive nature, a trait that I believe is common to many of today’s young children and one that we as grown-ups need to remember.

All in all May’s trip to the zoo was an adventure worth repeating. Perhaps the next time, she will be better able to handle all of the exhibits. Perhaps Eloise will be old enough to join us. In either case, I will do my homework and be more knowledgeable about what to expect so that I may better prepare our granddaughters for what might lie ahead.  We are never too old to learn from the young, something for all of us grandparents to keep in mind.

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Seeing the Extraordinary in the Seemingly Ordinary

Posted by bettyscar on September 21, 2012 in Grammy Tales

Summer ends and so begins the next chapter in our lives, as well as those of our grandchildren. Eloise has returned to Day Care and May has returned to nursery school and all of the scheduled activities that fill the days of an active toddler, soccer, swimming and play dates with friends. Each has left behind bits of themselves as mementos of a summer now past and waiting to be stored in my memory bank.

I carry down to the basement the remainder of toys left behind in our living room and sigh as I take inventory of all the “stuff” that has accumulated over the four and one-half years that May has been on this earth. Toys and games ranging from age six months to adulthood fill the shelves of the wall unit purchased at the Home Depot. That unit, which we bought with the intention of organizing the massive clutter that lies in small piles throughout our garage, is instead now used to systematize the many playthings handed down to our granddaughters through the kindness of relatives and friends.

The “Pack N Play” is closed and put aside to stay packed until the next time Eloise needs a place to rest her little head. Will Eloise be too big to fit into it the next time she comes to visit? Do I need to set up the crib? Time will tell.

There are the unfinished art projects in which May lost interest midway into their process; stickers, paint, and glitter giving a hint at what could have been.

There is the dollhouse that at one time occupied May for hours on end as she would tenderly tuck the mommy, daddy, May, baby and grandma into beds and cover them with fabric remnants purchased at a local quilt shop. The dollhouse remains in the condition left by May from the last time she played with it early in the summer. “You can let Eloise play with it now,” she announced one July day, and my heart-felt a pang of sadness over a four-year-old granddaughter who is growing up far too quickly for this grammy.

There are the innumerable snacks in the basement pantry, purchased to appeal to a child’s palate, but not necessarily to my husband’s and mine. Will they pass their expiration date by the time May and Eloise return?

My eyes scan the room and rest on a small stone lying in a corner. It is a conglomerate stone, with a thin white stripe running through its center. My thoughts travel to a summer of many rocks, smooth, layered, round, flat, and jagged; each one special, chosen by May, as we walked along the rocky shores of Falmouth Heights and Bristol beaches. Each holds a reason why May chose it; a pretty pattern of grey interspersed in its white mass, a purple tone, and a “baby” stone.

As I hold onto this image, I think back to those early days when May was a toddler, walking unsteadily in our driveway and pausing to bend down and pick up that special pebble to be added to the tiny bucket held in her small hand. Curiosity would drive me to carefully examine each stone. “Why this one?” I’d think. “Why did she pass over all the others only to stop for this particular stone?”

Then I would see the pebble as never seen before; its texture, its striations, its color, and, when all these characteristics were put together, I’d see its beauty through the eyes of a child. One who sees the world with unencumbered innocence, an innocence that often becomes eroded with advancing years. How fortunate I am to have May, and now Eloise, to reawaken in me the simple joys of life. That is the gift of a grandchild.

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Out of the Mouths of Babes

Posted by bettyscar on September 9, 2012 in Grammy Tales

A couple of weeks ago, we traveled to our daughter’s and son-in-law’s house to babysit May for the day. Rich and I awoke at 3 AM, after a fitful night’s sleep, in order to arrive in time for everyone to get to their destinations, Eloise to Day Care and Nancy and Jeremy to work, leaving May in our care.

The morning progressed beautifully. After walking Mr. Woo, the family pug, I put May in her stroller and walked down the extremely steep hill by her house towards the bakery for bagels and a special good morning treat for May. Needless to say, the good morning treat, a chocolate and M&M covered pretzel, would be frowned upon by her parents, but how could I say no to that little face looking longingly from the bakery case to me?

We sat by the water eating our bagels and watching moored boats bobbing on gentle waves, and seagulls picking over the remains of food scraps within the folds of a McDonald’s wrapper, before beginning the long incline towards home. It was only 9:00 AM. The day was just beginning for some people, but we were already into our third or fourth activity. “What’s next?” I thought, and I am sure that May shared the same thought. It can sometimes be hard work trying to be the grandmother I always hoped I’d be.

Once again, I climbed the long, steep hill leading back to her house. May and I chanted the refrain from the story The Little Engine That Could as I struggled to push her in her stroller, stopping from time to time to catch my breath. As a former math “maven,” I can honestly say that the hill has to be at a forty-five degree angle and is at least a sixth of a mile long, very much like the hills in San Francisco. It is a hill that Nancy totally avoids during snowstorms, but I digress.

Immediately after arriving back at the house, we put May in her car seat and drove to a toy store for yet again another special treat for her and her sister. These little treats provide a valuable service. Besides the warm hugs from May  that accompany each purchase, a new toy, however small, serves to  keep May busy for a short while, giving  my husband and me a little time to relax and put ourselves on pause (the method to our madness). May chose Calico Critters to add to her already extensive collection and a pull-toy for Eloise.

With purchases in hand, we headed towards Beer Works in Salem, May’s favorite place for lunch. While eating her pepperoni pizza, another of May’s favorites, we played with her Calico Critters and drew funny faces on the back of the place mat that seems to be a ubiquitous place-setting for kids.

Lunch ended and we headed to the Orange Leaf for dessert, a new and innovative frozen yogurt shop. When I first walked in, I was totally discombobulated by the scene before me. There were levers along the wall with a center counter filled with all kinds of  toppings imaginable, kind of like an Automat of the fifties, but with frozen yogurt. “Where is the frozen yogurt?” I thought, while I scanned the pristine room. Fortunately the store was relatively empty at the time and a saleswoman came to my rescue and walked me through the steps. Had she not been available to help, I am sure that May could have taken over. There are times when I truly feel my age.

Toy store, lunch and dessert behind us, it was time to visit the playground. As I was pushing May on the swing, a group of high school girls came running towards us, obviously in training for some sport or other. Upon seeing their approach, May quickly asked to be removed from the swing. May loves to swing so I found her request rather unusual and asked if anything was wrong. She replied, “No, I just want to get out.” I was to find out later from my daughter that May was embarrassed to be seen by the students while seated in a “baby swing.” Four years old and already cognizant of being in a situation that might seem “uncool.” I was flabbergasted!  I think that I was still in a crib at the age of four!

Playground checked off of our list of things to do, Rich and I felt the day was full enough and we all returned home to once again walk Mr. Woo and play with May’s Calico Critters. I am a master at make-believe and, if I must say so myself, I created all kinds of situations for imaginative play including one where I was a giant (once again my Brobdingnagian analogy-May is sure to be well ahead when she reads Gulliver’s Travels) resting near Calico Critter Town. I think I even asked May if she would mind if I closed my eyes for a few moments. You probably can guess what happened next. I fell asleep, a power nap, but sleep nonetheless. May never mentioned the fact that she was aware of my falling asleep so I convinced myself that it never happened.

A few days after  our marathon visit with May, my daughter called to relate an anecdote. She told me how when she, Jeremy, Eloise and May were in the car, May asked her mother if she would play Calico Critters with her when they arrived home, to which my daughter answered, “Sure!” May went on to say, “And will you stay awake and not fall asleep on the rug like grandma?” Jeremy and Nancy laughed until they cried. I guess she deserved more credit for her awareness than I gave her.

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