#grandparents
Back-to-School Bonding with the Grandbabes
According to a recent study, $27 billion will be spent this fall on back-to-school clothes, supplies, and accessories for students from kindergarten through 12th grade. I do my best to help the economy and society by spending money and time with my splendid granddaughters.
Going back to school in the fall remains my favorite childhood memory. I usually had a new outfit, complete with black-and-white saddle shoes and white socks. Some years, I had new eyeglasses with rhinestones in the frames. From 4th grade through my senior year, I proudly toted an alto saxophone in a blue case because I played in the band, confirming my identity as a nerd. I anticipated each year would be the best one ever; an aspiration usually crushed by October, but I never gave up hope.
I loved school and had perfect attendance from third grade through 12th grade. My family lived on a farm outside the village of Wendell, Idaho, population 1,000, and I knew from a young age that education was my ticket to adventure. I was correct.
After going into the world to seek self-reliance through the power of a regular paycheck, I married, had kids, and worked at various jobs. I continued the back-to-school celebration with my children, and shopping for new clothes became an important occasion, always ending at home with a festive fashion show. Our limited budget provided for a few sturdy outfits that were practical and big enough for “room to grow.” Fast forward another generation and I continue the tradition by taking my granddaughters on shopping dates to celebrate the new school year. The activity has become a favorite way to bond with each girl.
To arrange our shopping dates, we juggled schedules around soccer practices, gymnastics, craft projects, family vacations, and my appointments so I could enjoy several hours with each girl. We laughed and talked about school, friends, and where to shop. Each girl added a unique perspective, from the seven-year-old loudly singing “I Love Rock ‘n Roll” in a restaurant, to the pre-teen’s selection of an exotic, organic lotion, to the teen’s tales of a rambunctious slumber party with her soccer teammates.
This year, I had shopping dates with four of my granddaughters. Sweetie Pie, age seven, has an attention span of five seconds, so I quickly gathered five outfits, ushered us into a large dressing room, and cajoled her into trying on the clothes. We avoided any problems with the promise of at least one blouse with ruffles. She exited the store playing an imaginary air guitar.
Pumpkin, age 10, chose some cute outfits while seriously monitoring our budget. We have a running joke that she won’t like anything I choose, so I didn’t say yes or no. (Her mother had the same funny attitude at that age.) At lunch, she showed me how to download apps on my cell phone and create color-coded folders. She’s my personal IT assistant.
The 12-year-old is a gymnast with a lean body, so finding clothes can be a challenge. She was delighted with jeans so tiny my arm wouldn’t fit inside and a shirt with shinny lettering that read, “Find Your Wild.” I don’t know what that means. She found a magical pendant made from white crystals, held it to the sunlight, and made a wish. Of course, she now owns it.
The oldest grandbabe, age 15, still enjoys being with me. That’s probably because I have the credit card. But she’s delightful, articulate, and polite. She balances school activities, takes advanced placement courses, and maintains A grades. I think she should be cloned as a role model for teenage girls. And, I’ve never seen an eye-roll from her.
I became an irritated curmudgeon while inspecting the fashions for teenage girls. The styles included jeans that were ripped and torn, rompers that barely covered the butt, and high-heeled shoes appropriate for a street-walker. The ragged pants priced at $33 bothered me the most because the “poverty chic” style demeans those who are genuinely poor. As a girl, my mother and her sisters wore dresses their mother made from flour sacks. As a growing boy, my father’s family didn’t have enough money to buy him shoes that fit. I refused to buy anything with even a hint of damage. Fortunately, my teenage grandbabe agreed.
Grandparents know that the years fly by way too fast. I only have two more back-to-school shopping dates before the teenager graduates, and she probably won’t want me hanging around while she’s at college. In another generation, these splendid girls may take their own children shopping for school clothes. I hope the students, my great-grandchildren, believe it will be their best year ever.
How to Tell an Enchanting Story
“Please tell me a made-up story, Tutu,” my wee granddaughter begs as I close her picture book and tuck her into bed. I mentally scramble for an image and suddenly a little old lady pops into my imagination.
“Here’s one,” I say, much to her delight. Then I begin the spontaneous tale of a sad older lady who needs an adventure. I toss in the ability to fly and to find magical meadows with talking birds. It always helps to include at least one princess, a nasty troll, and a few immature bodily noises. For a successful story that pleases the most discerning child, I rely upon past experience: A flying princess, yes. Dead puppies, no.
I have a small collection of ceramic storytellers crafted in Peru and New Mexico. They represent the South American and Native American Indian tradition of using oral stories as a teaching tool for younger generations. The figurines depict a centered, nurturing, and powerful woman who inspires the children with lessons and stories about their culture. Back before the intrusion of electronics, I told stories to my children, and now it’s a privilege to do the same for my grandkids. Sometimes I need to think fast to create the story, but it works best if I make it enchanting.
For the novice entertainer, here are eight tips for how to tell an enchanting story.
1. Begin with a provocative set-up. One day a (pick one) little girl, puppy, mother, King woke up and discovered that no one was home.
2. Explain how something happens, either to the main character or the environment. She searched in all the rooms but no one was there. On the kitchen table, she saw a bright red arrow pointing to the back yard.
3. In one or two sentences, tell how the plot thickens. The stakes are raised when tension appears: She peeked out the window and saw a (pick one) fairy, pony, rainbow, salesman, monster.
4. Mentally analyze the reaction of the audience and adjust accordingly. If the listeners aren’t engaged by this time, strengthen the narrative. She was (pick one) afraid, surprised, happy, shy, vomiting.
5. Build a vision of a scene that involves the senses: sight, sound, taste, vision, and touch. The door creaked as she opened it and tiptoed barefoot in her calico gown into the cool grass. She felt a gentle breeze toss her red hair, and the air smelled of mint and oranges.
6. Weave a climax that produces an “aha” moment for the audience. Suddenly her family appeared with gifts for her surprise party. Or, if you’re feeling more creative, she followed a a cluster of chaotic clowns as they scampered over a rainbow into a secret castle full of toys and sugar cookies.
7. End when the story is resolved. It was the perfect surprise party. Or, she loved her imaginary friends and promised to join them again another day. Or, she scurried home to read adventure books and plan her next excursion.
8. Record your story. To improve your storytelling abilities, record yourself reciting an original fable. You may notice you speak too quickly or say “um” too many times. Also, a recording creates a fun gift to present to your children or grandchildren.
Some people are born to be storytellers, and their yarns and tall tales aren’t limited to children. They often regale adults with their creative narrations, and a friendly bar or boisterous camping trip only intensifies the renditions. Well-told narrations can enrich the imagination of children and entertain adults. As an added benefit, the regular practice keeps the brain energized so you’re ready any time a small voice begs, “Please, tell me a story.”
Published on The Huffington Post Aug. 4, 2015
Once Upon a Time: The Stories that Surround Us
Recently I was playing with a gaggle of giggling granddaughters. We were telling stories, and they squealed with delight at each silly suggestion in our creative plot as “Once upon a time….” encouraged them to imagine without restriction.
“And then the princess turned into a beautiful butterfly.”
“She waved her magic wand and poof! There was a purple horse with wings!”
“The little girl fell down a long tunnel and landed in a big meadow. She could understand what the animals were saying.”
Of course, the pretend princesses always survived their adventures and the endings always were happy, except for the conclusion in the Fable of the Farting Princess, but by then it was time to take a break. Such is storytelling with children.
Every day, we are surrounded by potential stories. Those of us who can still remember the 1960s can’t forget the lyrics of Simon and Garfunkel’s song “America” as the couple turns ordinary situations into imaginary stories:
“Laughing on the bus, playing games with the faces.
She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy.
I said, “Be careful his bowtie is really a camera.”
If you need inspiration to write, you should go sit in the park. Observe a happy family playing and laughing, and then allow your imagination to wander. Who is that dark stranger slowly driving around the park? Why is the woman yelling into her cell phone? Did you see the lonely custodian laughing as he went down the slide? Is the little boy really talking to a squirrel?
You can find story ideas while waiting at stop lights. The obnoxious guys in the noisy car next to you are certain to be smuggling something illegal. The old woman ahead of you must be on her way to her best friend’s funeral. That’s why she’s driving so slowly. Her friend’s name is Erma, and they used to process jars of pickles together in Erma’s farmhouse kitchen. The old woman craves a fresh tomato.
I also use newspaper headlines to create short stories. The Idahoan Who Speaks for U.S. Sheep Industry.” So, what do the sheep have her say? Do they have a meeting in the pasture and discuss issues over bowls of fresh grass and pitchers of water from the canal? N.Y. Pet Cemeteries Told to Stop Taking in Humans. Will Fifi really care? The old dog’s been dead for 20 years. And, what if those really aren’t Fifi’s ashes?
Every day presents an adventure waiting to be told. The real ending can’t be controlled, but with enough creativity and imagination, writers can add some festive, mysterious, tragic, inspirational, and amazing elements to make the journey less mundane. After all, it’s what we do. We are storytellers.
(Featured on NanaHood.com 10/1/2015)
Your Own Personal Circus
Remember that crazed clown at the circus? She was the one spinning a dozen flaming torches while peddling a unicycle on a high wire as the out-of-tune calliope wheezed out a medley of manic music. Young women today probably aren’t impressed with frenetic clown tricks because that vision represents their daily life – a never-ending juggle of family, job, home, community, and self.
In fact, the clown has an easier reality because her show ends at 10:00 pm and women still have two loads of laundry, a sink full of dirty dishes, The Spawn needs cupcakes for school in the morning, and Romeo wants to score tonight.
I’m here to remind you that all the dishes and laundry will never be done until you’re well into your fifties, and way too soon The Spawn will have a tart of his own and won’t need your culinary skills. That leaves Romeo. So turn off the lights (to add romance and hide the dust bunnies,) don something flimsy, and go for it while you’re still awake. Batteries optional.
I was a working mother back in the olden days when women were supposed to stay home, wear pearls with aprons, and make casseroles that included canned soup and frozen peas. I should have added crescent rolls but I could never get those damn cans to pop at the seams. They always exploded onto the ceiling so I just left the dough to hang and harden in mysterious clumps and called it art.
My kids would be positively giddy if I cooked the pasta first before serving their favorite macaroni and cheese dinner. But, I usually didn’t have time to boil water so I encouraged them to chew slowly and enjoy all the roughage. That was back during the early 1980s, before computers, cell phones, and Oprah. I had to find enlightenment and empowerment on my own while fighting the urge to run away and join the circus.
During the work week, I existed on five hours of sleep, fed the kids, took them to child care, worked nine hours, retrieved the little darlings, concocted something edible for dinner, gave them baths, read stories, and tucked them into bed. Then I did the housework while some clueless zealot chortled on television about bringing home the bacon, frying it in a pan, and then pleasing my man. Hell, in reality I wanted to throw some bologna in the microwave, serve it on paper plates, snuggle into my worn t-shirt, and tell the man of the house to bring me some wine and then take a rain check.
I want young mothers to know that the merry-go-round eventually stops and you can get off, maybe with the help of a sturdy cane. Age brings a certain freedom and wisdom that is elusive when you’re under age 40. My kids now are grown, married, and creating their own personal circuses at home. I enjoy grabbing some popcorn, taking my place in the bleachers, and cheering from the sidelines. And, by now I don’t have to clean up after the elephants.
How to Tell an Enchanting Story
“Please tell me a made-up story, Tutu,” my wee granddaughter begs as I close her picture book and tuck her into bed. I mentally scramble for an image and suddenly a little old lady pops into my imagination.
“Here’s one,” I say, much to her delight. Then I begin the spontaneous tale of a sad older lady who needs an adventure. I toss in the ability to fly and to find magical meadows full of talking birds. It always helps to include at least one princess, a nasty troll, and a few immature bodily noises. For a successful story that pleases the most discerning child, I rely upon past experience: A flying princess, yes. Dead puppies, no.
I have a small collection of ceramic storytellers crafted in Peru and New Mexico. They represent the South American and Native American Indian tradition of using oral stories as a teaching tool for younger generations. The figurines depict a centered, nurturing, and powerful woman who inspires children with lessons and stories about their culture. Back before the intrusion of electronics, women told stories to their children, and it was a privilege to do the same for my children and now my grandkids. Sometimes I need to think fast to create the story, but it works best if I make it enchanting.
For the novice entertainer, here are eight tips for how to tell an enchanting story.
- Begin with a provocative set-up. One day a (pick one) little girl, puppy, mother, King woke up and discovered that no one was home.
- Explain how something happens, either to the main character or the environment. She searched in all the rooms but no one was there. On the kitchen table, she saw a bright red arrow pointing to the back yard.
- In one or two sentences, tell how the plot thickens. The stakes are raised when tension appears: She peeked out the window and saw a (pick one) fairy, pony, rainbow, salesman, monster.
- Mentally analyze the reaction of the audience and adjust accordingly. If the listeners aren’t engaged by this time, strengthen the narrative. She was (pick one) afraid, surprised, happy, shy, vomiting.
- Build a vision of a scene that involves the senses: sight, sound, taste, vision, and touch. The door creaked as she opened it and tiptoed barefoot in her calico gown into the cool grass. She felt a gentle breeze toss her red hair, and the air smelled of mint and oranges.
- Weave a climax that produces an “aha” moment for the audience. Suddenly her family appeared with gifts for her surprise party. Or, if you’re feeling more creative, she followed a cluster of chaotic clowns as they scampered over a rainbow into a secret castle full of toys and sugar cookies.
- End when the story is resolved. It was the perfect surprise party. Or, she loved her imaginary friends and promised to join them again another day. Or, she scurried home to read adventure books and plan her next excursion.
- Record your story. To improve your storytelling abilities, record yourself reciting an original fable. You may notice you speak too quickly or say “um” too many times. Also, a recording creates a fun gift to present to your children or grandchildren.
Some people are born to be storytellers, and their yarns and tall tales aren’t limited to children. They often regale adults with their creative narrations, and a friendly bar or boisterous camping trip only intensifies the renditions. Well-told accounts can enrich the imagination of children and entertain adults. As an added benefit, the regular practice keeps the brain energized so you’re ready any time a small voice begs, “Please, tell me a story.”
