Sad songs make me cry...

...especially when they are like this one...

Inch by inch, row by row

Gonna make this garden grow

All it takes is a rake and a hoe

And a piece of fertile ground

That song would make you cry, too.

Right?

(sniff, sniff, sniff)

The lady sitting by me at Mo's Kindergarten graduation thought I was funny.

Mr. Jenny thought I was funny.

My daughter-in-law thought I was funny.

But I was sad.

Mo.

My little, serious, lovely little Mo...

...is going to be a first grader.

And if that wasn't bad enough, all the little five year olds had to sing that ridiculously sad song during

the graduation ceremony.

Inch by inch, row by row

Someone bless these seeds I sow

Someone warm them from below

'Til the rain comes tumbling down

Of course I had to cry.

Pulling weeds and pickin' stones

Man is made from dreams and bones

Feel the need to grow my own

'Cause the time is close at hand

Grain for grain, sun and rain

Find my way in nature's chain

To my body and my brain

To the music from the land*

After the graduates filed out, the lady next to me asked me if I was always so emotional.

She said it nicely when she asked me, so I answered her.

I said, "No.  I must be tired."

She just smiled and started to leave.

I touched her arm, and she turned back.

"I lied," I said, "I am always so emotional...but, really, don't you think that's a sad song?"

She just smiled, again, and walked away.

*this song was written by folk singer David Mallett in 1975.  It is called "The Garden Song".

 

I lost Morgan's heart...

...and I was totally sad because there was a great story about it that I wanted to share with you.

So I asked my daughter-in-law to see if she could find the heart.

But she couldn't.

And I went out to the garage and looked in my car thinking the heart might be there.

But it wasn't.

And then I thought to myself, "Hey, you can kinda/sorta make a heart like that so you can still tell the story."

So I did.

And now.

Tada.

Here's the story.

Ahem.

This past Wednesday afternoon I went to pick the Grandlittles up from school.

The little one, Morgan, always gets out about ten minutes before her sisters because she's in Kindergarten. She's always happy and skipping and full of joyous energy.

But this past Wednesday she came outside really subdued and really, really quiet.

"Hey, Mo! Are you okay?"

She didn't answer me. Instead she handed me a paper heart.

It looked kinda/sorta like this one, but it was much, much sweeter.


"This is cute, Mo. But why was your day so bad?"

"Grandma? I made this heart for everybody but then all the kids started making fun of my nickname."

"Morgan, what do you mean your nickname?"

"Grandma! My nickname! You know? Momo?"


"Morgan? I'm sorry. What do you mean they were making fun of you?"

"Grandma! See that hole up there on my heart? That's from a tear. A tear from when they were making fun of my nickname!"

"Morgan? I'm sorry. I didn't know that hole was from a tear. Do you want to tell me what they were saying about your nickname?"

"Grandma! Are you listening to me? They were making fun of my nickname, MoMo!"

I am pretty dense about some things, but I'm pretty quick to recognize when I'm on the losing end of a conversation, so I tried changing the subject.

"Well, Mo! It's really a pretty heart. So what do these letters down here mean?" I pointed to the FVBD.

She signed in disgust. "Grandma! You aren't listening to me! I told you I made the heart for For eVeryBoDy? See? Can you read that? For eVeryBoDy!"

Sigh.

Sigh.

I took her to the car and hugged the stuffing out of her until her sisters got out of school.

A hole from a tear?

Awwwww...

And how could anybody make fun of my sweet little MoMo?

Sigh...

Child Labor and Chicks

Mr. Jenny says this is why we had Grandchildren.

He hates putting up Christmas lights.

Thank heavens our middle Grandlittle thinks its swell fun!




All the grands thought it was fun that our neighbors bought a chicken tractor. They had a great time playing with the chicks!

Grandma! Beware!

So...

If you've been reading my blog for awhile you've seen this little girl a time or two...



Our youngest Grandlittle who started to Kindergarden in August.

She and her sisters were off school for Veterans Day and spent the day and overnight with us.

Those three Grandlittles are the best medicine anyone in the world could hope for...

...especially when they hug and kiss you and write you notes!

Late in the afternoon, Miss Mo went into my office and spent a l o o o o o n n n g time in there.

Every time I walked by the door she shouted, "Don't come in Grandma! It's a surprise!"

Finally she surfaced when I was just finishing up cooking dinner.

"Grandma, please sit down, I have a letter for you," she told me in a very serious voice.

I sat at the kitchen table and she handed me a folded up piece of paper.

I picked her up and sat her on my lap and said, "Wow, you wrote me a letter, Mo! That's really cool."

"Welllll, Grandma, I did write you a letter BUT I don't know what it says."

"Okay, Mo," I replied, "How did you write me a letter if you don't know what it says?"

"Grandma! I put down a whole bunch of letters and numbers and then I signed my name!"

"Well, that sounds neat," and I started to unfold the note.

"Wait! Wait! Grandma! Beware! Beware!!!!"

"Beware?" I inquired, "Beware?"

"Yes, Grandma! Beware! There are a lot of periods and commas in the note, too!"

And I carefully unfolded the note and, by golly, there were a lot of periods and commas in there, too.


Thank heavens she warned me to beware!

Sigh...

"Hi! I'm Julia...

...I am nine years old and I want to volunteer here."

Our oldest Grandlittle shyly uttered these words at a little pet store earlier this week.

We had been at Build-a-Bear and afterwards had become enchanted with a little beagle puppy that tipped his head very beguilingly at us.

After we played with the beagle puppy for a long time, Julia said, "I wish I could volunteer here. Nobody will ever let me volunteer because they say I'm too young BUT I'm nine now Grandma! And Grandma! If I can't volunteer I really, really need you and Grandpa to get a puppy. Or maybe two puppies." Hmmm....ummmm...yeah...no.

(Over the past several years we've tried shelters, vet offices, and other pet stores to no avail)

I told her to ask. "You never know unless you try, Jules. If you want something you have to go for it!"

"But Grandma. I'm shy. You ask."

Firmly I told her, "I know you're only nine but you need to be able to ask for what you want, Julia, and stand up for what you don't. If you want to see if they'll let you help with the puppies, YOU have to ask!"

"They'll just say no," she said, defeated before she even started.

"Well, maybe they will," I encouraged her, "But you won't know until you ask."

So she did.

In a sweet little voice.

And she about fell over when the clerk told her that as long as she brought an adult in she could come in and help play with the puppies.

And she's been doing it now almost all week.

There was a huskie and a pug and a maltese and something else and a little bug-eyed terrier.

Julia has been so sweet about it. She excitedly calls it 'going to work' each day. "I think I need to get to work," she says, and then scrambles around helping with whatever needs done.

It's really neat to see her so excited.

She favors her broken arm, just a tiny bit and only seems uncomfortable when she hits her elbow where the metal rods from the repair protrude a bit.

Here's a few pics so you can tag along with us.





I love that the store is letting her do this!

And I love laughing at the antics of all the sweet puppies.

I think the thing I might love the most, though, has been watching one of her dreams come true.

Without actually having to buy a puppy! or two!

Happy News...

Breath held, no sound…
just the beating of your heart
Waiting now, spellbound…
just the beating of your heart
Slow and steady cadence,
Slow and steady rhyme
And then…
And then…
A moment of awareness,
frozen now in time.
Breath held, no sound…
the beat of another heart,
fast and steady, joined with yours
in a harmony sublime
Your life is blessed forever now…
Your heartbeats are entwined.

Mr. Jenny and I have a new Grandlittle on the way. We're a tiny bit sad because this tiny one is growing rapidly up in Oregon...which is close to a million miles away. And April seems far, far away as well.

Wild Friday Nights...

...

Yup.

We're all about the wild times here at the Matlock house.

Friday afternoon it got down to a brisk 101 degrees and things got crazy.

Our youngest and middle Grandlittle came to visit after school and promptly said, "Wow, it's not too hot out! We should ride our bikes!"

Mr. Jenny dragged out the new (to them! I love garage sales!) Green Machine...and they were off!






Stuffed animals, a pogo stick and neighbor kids joined in the fun...





And our sweet Grandlittles enjoyed a gourmet meal of hardboiled eggs, turkey and peaches on their vehicles of choice...





And we were all exhausted.

4D is kind of Difficult...

...or maybe it's just me.

Perhaps I am incapable of using Aroma-Scope correctly while juggling a giant tub of popcorn, opening bottle lids that are on too tight, ripping open cellophane candy wrappers with my teeth and reassuring two of three Grandlittles accompanying me that, "No, the little kids are not going to die. Yes, the dog is going to be funny when he talks! I'm sure we'll know when to use our Aroma-Scope cards!"

The three girls got out of school early on Wednesday and were anxious to go see the Smurfs...

However...

Mr. Jenny ended up unable to leave his office and was soooo disappointed that he didn't get to see the Smurfs with us, that I had to take the girls to see 'Spy Kids...All the Time in the World', instead.

When we arrived we were given 'Amazing Aroma-Scope Cards' so we could watch the movie in 4-D.

Obviously I live too sheltered of a life because I've never heard of 4D. The ticket guy told us there would be instructions on the screen before the movie, so I dumped the cards in my purse and we headed to the bathroom, the snackbar and then into the theatre.

After I finally got all the Grandlittles settled with enough food to last for approximately 13 days, we waited for the movie to start.


Some directions came onto the screen instructing us to rub off numbers 1-8 one at a time whenever we saw each specific number flash onto the screen.

The girls wanted to hold their own cards, but I quickly figured out that little girls are incapable of holding onto a small cardboard card while eating and drinking simultaneously .

Yeah.

Every time Morgan saw any number on the screen, be it a car license plate or someone wearing a football jersey, she would let out a very, very loud squeal!

But finally the 'Number 1' flashed on the screen. Popcorn spilled, soda spilled, little kids were screeching all over the theater.

I quickly handed out the cards and we all rubbed and rubbed and smelled 'Number 1' on the card. None of us could figure out what it smelled like. Everyone had to pass their cards around to see if someone elses card smelled different.

They didn't.

Then I had to hold them all again.

Eating and drinking resumed.

Until 'Number 2' flashed on the screen.

Chaos and more squealing commenced accompanied by spilling and typical little kid's 'Number 2' humor. There was more passing of cards because apparently little kids think it would be very cool to smell a babies dirty diaper. Been there. Done that. Didn't think the smell was cool at all.

As then the numbers progressed through a blue cheese bomb and three numbers for smells from a candy store.

Repeat all the stuff I already said each time a new number flashed onto the screen.

Etc. Etc. Etc.

All the numbers smelled alike.

Finally, by the time we had to scratch off 'Number 6', the Grandlittles had lost interest.

Oh sure...

We scratched...

...and sniffed...

...and passed the cards all around...

...but since they all smelled pretty much the same things got a lot calmer.

By the time the movie was over, I'm not actually sure what it was about.

The oldest Grandlittle was fussy becasue she was 'covered in sticky' from spilling her drink so many times...

The youngest Grandlittle was fussy because her 'smeller thing was a piece of junk'...

...and I was just plain, old fussy.

...gosh...

...that was a very, very long movie...

...although...

I'm actually pretty happy they didn't get the smell of baby diapers or dog 'stinkers' correct.

4D movies...

I highly, highly do NOT recommend them!

But maybe you'll be lucky and go to one where your 'smeller thing is NOT a piece of junk' and then you will be able to sniff and gag through an entire movie.

Wow.

Wouldn't that be a special time?

Sigh...

Buh, buh, buh...Pay Attention Grandma!

So...

On Wednesday I picked up our Grandlittles after school.

The littlest Grandlittle gets out of Kindergarten almost ten minutes before the medium and large Grandlittle.

We spent the first five minutes just hugging the stuffing out of each other, and then the next few minutes having this conversation.

Mo: Grandma?

Me: Yes, sweetie pie?

Mo: Grandma? You remember, right?

Me: Remember what?

Mo: You know? Remember?

Me: Mo? I'm sorry but Grandma doesn't know what you mean.

Mo: Oh Grandma. Are you kidding me? You remember right?

Me: Mo? I really don't know what I'm supposed to remember. Can you give me a hint?

Mo: Hint? Oh, yeah. How about this? B! Buh, Buh, Buh! B! That's a good hint. Now do you remember Grandma?

Me: Buh, buh, buh? Buh, buh, buh... gosh...no...sorry sweetie.

Mo: Grandma! Listen! B! Buh, buh, buh! B!

Me: Holy criminy Mo. I think the heat has fried my brains. You're going to just have to tell me, okay?

Mo: (reluctantly and with a very hurt look on her face) Ooookkkaaay...but Grandma, you promised you'd remember. It's my volleyball game tomorrow.

Me: Volleyball? Of course I remember your volleyball game tomorrow. Grandpa and I are both coming, but Mo? Volleyball starts with the letter "V". V is vuh, vuh, vuh NOT buh, buh, buh.

Mo: Grandma! Are you kidding me? That's what I just said!

Acccckkkk!

And since you actually read all that, I thought I'd show you some pictures of her playing... B! Buh, buh, buh! Bolleyball! With her sisters. All three of them are on the same team.






Sigh...

Small Complications...

So...

The last time I picked up my Grandlittles from school, the little one was pretty anxious to talk to me.

I knew this because she squirmed and wiggled and kept telling me, "I need to talk to you Grandma!"

I told her to go ahead, but she informed me it was a private conversation.

After I got them home and got her sisters settled, we finally got a little bit of time alone.

She climbed into my lap.

"Grandma?" she asked in her squeaky little voice.

"Yes?"

"I have some things I need."

Hmmmm..."Ooookay," I queried, "What is it that you need?"

"Well. Grandma. I have a list."

"Oooookay, sweetie pie, what's on the list?"

"Well. Hmmm...let me think what's on my list. Grandma. I need some of that little kid body wash that doesn't smell like boys body wash," she stated.


"I think I can do that, is there anything else on your list?"

"Well. Grandma. I need some toothpaste that isn't spicy. And I lost one of my pink socks. And you know those things that are like fruit rolls ups but they aren't fruit rolls ups? Those are on my list, too."

I was puzzled. "Do you mean toothpaste that isn't minty? And maybe you should ask your Mom where your pink sock is. And do you mean fruit bits? Like those Sponge Bob shaped things?"

"Nooo...Grandma! You know. The fruit roll up things that aren't fruit roll ups!"


"Well, Morgan," I replied, "I think I'm going to have a hard time remembering all this. Maybe you should go get your list."

"What list, Grandma?" she said, looking all kinds of puzzled.

"Your list. The list where you have all these things written down. Can you go to your backpack and get your list?"

"Grandma! You're joking me, right?"

I was confused. "Huh? I'm not kidding. I won't remember all that, can you go get your list?"

"Grandma! Seriously. I don't have a list. I'm just a little kid. I don't know how to write!"

"But Momo. You told me you had a list."

"Grandma! I do have a list. But it's inside my head."

Hmmm...

Seriously.

And now that I've actually written a list on paper, the only big task that remains is finding out what the thing is that is like a fruit roll up but isn't a fruit roll up.

Geez.

Sigh...

Quick! Call the National Enquirer!

Are they still in business, anyway?

Well if they are...I have a story.

A big story.

Bigger than aliens abducting my weiner dog, Oskar!

Bigger than a 93 year old woman giving birth to quadruplets!

Bigger, I tell ya.

Okay.

Brace yourself.

Are you ready?

Babies can now e-mail!


I'm not kidding.

Today I opened my e-mail and there was a message from this little, tiny baby...


How could this have happened?

How could this teensy little grandlittle crawled to her Ipod, poked the correct buttons AND sent her Grandma an e-mail?

Seriously?

It is such an improbability that this could ever happen, I'm certain the Enquirer is gonna pay big for this story!

Because I'm totally sure that this little girl was just born...

It can't possibly have been over nine years and three months ago that she was a baby...

Can it?

E-mails from Grandlittles?!?!?

Almost as believable as Oskar getting abducted by aliens.


Sigh...