If it's in my mouth, it's mine.

When I started this blog, I wanted to capture the feelings and funny things that my grandson said or did. That was back in 2008. I tried to post about once every two months. Then I failed to keep up with it. Then a beautiful baby girl was added to our family, Ella. My grand daughter, Ella, is about 15 months old.I created a post in January 2011 about how beautiful she is and how blessed we are to have her in our lives.

Then I got busy again. I failed to document her first year. I feel really bad about that. I certainly didn't lose interest in her, just lost interest in blogging in general.

This past week, I began to get one of "those" feelings. A feeling that I must capture her funny moments in writing. Perhaps it was having Ella this past weekend that brought up these "I must continue this" feeling. I think the responsibility for those thoughts must be put on the batteries. Yes, a battery is responsible for my desire to document funny Miss Ella Bella.

We had Ella and Mason this weekend. While Dennis was in the living room, watching "one more" Land Before Time DVD, I was sitting in the kitchen. Yes, doing what I always do. Catching up on my favorite blogs' recent posts. Ella came running by me, looked at me and grin, with some odd looking, shiny item protruding out of her mouth. She began to laugh and run past, but she was not quick enough. I grabbed her. She didn't want to give up what she had.As far as she was concerned, she found the item, it belonged to her. She clenched her little mouth shut, I pried a bit harder and out popped a double A battery. Yes, a battery.

Grabbing Ella and a baby wipe, I immediately began to clean out her mouth, as my husband checked to be sure the battery didn't have any leakage or bite marks. I asked him "Where in hell did she get the batteries?" It's not as if we leave them lying around normally. Knowing the kids were going to around this weekend, we took precautions as usual.

Even though the battery was still intact, the grandma in me decided I needed to clean her mouth. After doing a cleaning of Ella's mouth, she decide since the baby wipe was in her mouth, it also belonged to her. I don't' think so, Ella. Anyway, we began the search for the source of batteries.

As we were searching the living room, Dennis suddenly picked up the remote, and sure enough that was the source. That little squirt had opened up the back of remote and helped herself to a battery.

Ella spend the remainder of her weekend searching for items that she could claim as hers. The content of the kitchen drawers, magazines from the basket, clothing from her suitcase and laundry baskets, and items that resided in other rooms, all joined together to create one interesting looking pile of items.

As it was time to return the kids home to their mama and daddy, I began to pick up a few toys to return them to their designated space. As I picked up a book, Ella latched onto it and the tug of war began. "Please give grandma the book, Ella." Ella glared at me and screeched something that sounded like "No. No." I guess she was under the presumption that since she found it and brought it to the living room, that made it hers.

I wonder if that works both ways. I found Ella in the living room, does that make her mine?

Welcome Ella

Ella. What a beautiful name for the baby my daughter Amy, her husband Matt and their son, Mason welcomed into their family a few weeks ago. I hardly know where to start to explain my joy at the health of this child and the happiness I see in Amy and her family's eyes.

I stayed with Mason while his mama and daddy went to the hospital so the "doctors could get Ella for them" as they explained it to Mason. Mason is going through some normal two year old behavior, such as now wanting to leave his mama and daddy. so, he shed a few tears, well big ones actually, when mama left. It was all I could do to keep from crying also as my oldest, baby girl was leaving to have her own baby girl. Such excitement, but yet the normal feelings of nervousness that only a mom can experience when her own child is having a baby.

It took them many hours for Ella to arrive and we were lucky enough to be there when Matt came out with pictures. This time there were tears of joy, not fear, as little miss Ella was healthy, and well, just perfect.

I was blessed to stay with Amy in the hospital a few nights while Matt stayed at night with Mason. Little Mason missed his daddy and it was best/good for Mason to spend some special time with him. I always consider myself lucky to spend time with Mason, and it was no different as I would be spending time rocking/holding Ella the first few days of her life.

Ah, the joy of seeing your daughter holding her newborn baby with tears of happiness in her eyes. Although there will be many more events of pure happiness, I think there will always be three special memories I will always have of Amy with happiness in her eyes: the day she married her love, Matt, the week her beautiful, baby boy Mason came home from the hospital, and the moment I watched her as she held her beautiful girl.

Just knowing that this child was healthy, perfect, and coming home was one of he best gift I have received, right up there with Amy having Mason. I have been known to thank her for giving me two grandchildren to love. How nice of her to think of me.

A grandma just has to rock her babies, doesn't she? So, when Amy wasn't holding Ella, and when I figured Ella had enough time to be on her own in the bassinet, I scooped that baby up and rocked.

As I held Ella, I remembered the feeling of holding Mason the first time. He was six weeks, still in the NICU, although scheduled to come home in a few days. I remembered holding him and doing my very best not to cry in front of Amy that day. I had shed many tears during that six weeks at the helplessness I felt for Mason's medical situation. I cried because I could not, no matter what I did, make this any better for my daughter. It is one of my difficult feelings in the world not to be able to make something better for your child. I thank God, still to this day, that Amy and Matt are strong, educated, compassionate individuals who deeply love one another and their child and are stronger for this experience.

The tears I had when Ella was born were happy ones. Happy that she was healthy, that we knew she was coming home when Amy did. Happy to see the love her husband has for their new addition, for his entire family. Ir was an exciting time seeing Mason hold his baby sister. He gazed at her with such wonder and excitement. Such good memories.


Let me tell you about Ella. Oh, she is pretty. She is absolutely beautiful. She weighed 7 lb 7 oz at birth, and has chubby little cheeks. Cheeks made for smooching on. Her hair is dark and so soft. She smells wonderful. I have seen her give a few smiles, although they really were not directed at me. Her mama said she is just starting to give some smiles while they talk with her, she gazes directly at them and smiles. She is so alert, just like her mama was when she was a newborn. Even the pediatrician said she was an extremely alert newborn.

Ella looks just like her big brother, who looks like his daddy. Although I do see a bit of Amy in her, I try not to kid myself. She is a Langlois at this point, though and through at this point.

Amy says she is starting to make those wonderful first sounds, a bit of a "cooing." This naturally makes me want to run right down there, sit by her side and wait for the story she has to tell. I have lots of time for you, Ella. I have nothing else worthwhile to do anyway.

I haven't seen her in a week and it is killing me. I think I am going to have to go down this week, Saturday morning at the latest. I am beginning to get antsy at not seeing her for a week, and then there is my little guy, Mason. How I miss him, my little Mr. Personality and Mr. Attitude rolled up in one sweet package. He sets out to entertain us, with either his funny two year old behavior, or his mini meltdowns at not getting his way. While these meltdowns are really not funny to his parents, sometimes I just have to turn away and try not to laugh. Been there done that moment.

Yes, I must see the kids this weeky may need groceries in their house, don't you think? After all, Amy does have to grocery shop at some point, doesn't she? Look out little ones, Grandma is coming to your house and mama is going to Meijers.

I Get the Door

I haven't posted in months. Think about it. Meant to do it. Where have these past months gone? Looking at how quickly Mason has become a little boy is proof that time flies.

Mason has rapidly grown into quite the charming, little guy. I spent the weekend with Amy and him while his daddy was at deer camp. We planned to do some baking and prepare a few dishes for Amy to freeze for the first week after Ella is born. Ok, well I played with (I meant occupied) Mason while she prepared the meals, but I did help bake. Honestly. I'm helpful as I did bring the Kitchen Aid mixer! See, I did my part.

Mason did his part also. He is quite the little baker. Amy has spent a lot of time baking snacks and cookies for Mason over the past year and involves him in the measuring and mixing. Of course, his favorite contribution to the baking process is licking the beaters. It was quite funny to watch Mason try to lick the Kitchen Aid mixer beater clean. That thing is huge! It covered his entire face and he had cookie dough everywhere, as he licked and sucked on that beater, occasionally dipping it back into the bowl to get more. Oh wait, I'm the one that did that so he could eat more. Never mind. Once the beaters are clean, he is done with baking. The rest is up to us, if we want a finished project.

The second game plan was to get all the bedding and new clothes for the baby girl washed and ready to go. Mission accomplished. I am paranoid about like colors and clothes being washed together. Do you know how many bright pink things there are for babies? How many little white things there is also? Then you have the darks, the flannel things, etc. all which require separate washings the first time. Geez. My butt should be toned and in Miss America shape as I made several trips up and down the steps washing all those little loads.

Believe me, I'm not complaining. I loved every minute of helping to prepare for the arrival of baby Ella. I loved folding those little clothes, just as much as I did preparing for Mason's arrival.

I think that Amy's favorite part this weekend was watching me struggle to figure out how to assemble the bedding: especially the bedskirt. You have to heist that mattress out of there, shove that bedskirt down into that tiny crack, put the mattress back in. Tying on the bumper pad? So many ties. What did you say Amy? "We have to take this apart, mama." "What?" I responded. "We forgot to move the bed up to the highest point" she said. I said, "Are you kidding me?" "No?" "Okay." Back out came everything.

Now I am sure that Amy was laughing her little butt off as she watched me struggle to heist up that mattress. I am sure she was snicking inside as she watched me figure out (hey, it's been years) how to re-assemble a crib. Now my upper half of my body should be Miss America toned also.

Soon it was time to go home. I packed up my things and headed towards the door. Amy told Mason that grandma was leaving to go home. Mason, always being the helper, yells, "I get the door. I get the door." He so graciously held the door for me while I loaded up my things and came back in to get just one more kiss and hug. After wrestling a hug, I told him I had to go. "I get the door." "I get the door." He runs to hold the door for me as I make my exit. Thanks, Mason, I'm thinking, my Miss America body, while toned of course, hasn't the strength to hold it myself. Mason, can you come home with Grandma and open my doors too? I'll bake you cookies and let you lick the beater.

Two Years

I haven't posted any letters to my blog in a while and realized that I must get back at it. I have discovered how much I miss writing about my little guy.

So much has happened this early summer. Mason has spent quite a few days with me, both at his home and at ours. I went down last week and spent a few days with him, pre-planned for weeks, but he became ill with a virus and ran a fever. So, my idea of spending large amounts of time "sight seeing" and "park hopping" did not materialize. Oh well, that is ok. Just being with my grandson is enough. After all, how often is it that a grandma is given the opportunity to provide much needed comfort to her grandchild? I am sure there are many grandma's that would love this gift.

Wow! Mason has changed so quickly these past few months and continue to do so. It is hard to know where to begin. So, I thought I would share a bit of my time with Mason from last week.

Mason loves his binkie, a.k.a. his pacifier. His parents have been great about allowing him to have it as needed. However, they also have decided it is time to take it away from him. Easier said than done. He is now down to having it at nap time and bedtime. This is not to say that he doesn't try to sneak it or ask for it at other times. What a perfect time to ask for it when Grandma is around and the parents are not?

As with most toddlers, when Mason is ill he wants his mama or daddy. Since they were not to be found, Grandma would have to do. Mason was recently moved into a twin size bed, which he loves, and like to go "night night" often and invites you to join him. He brags about his blankets, his pillows, and his music box. He "invites" you (also known as tells you) where to lay at, which pillow you can have. He then proceeds to pretend to sleep, all the while making these cute little snoring sounds, which sound something like: "ker chew" over and over again. One would think he is sleeping until a glimpse of the smiling face is seen. Well, he did invite me to enter his domain and I did. Of course, you know what was laying there? You got it. His binkie. Well, he wanted it. I said, "No, it's for night night time only." He started the crying, "Binkie, night night, blankie" and proceeded to lay down in his bed, trying to cover himself up with his blanket, placing that binkie in his little mouth and just lying there, fever and all. Well, I can't have that. I had to pick him up and rock with him. Is that rule not in the Grandma handbook? I'm sure it is on page 1, rule #1: Must rock the baby.

So, Mason got his binkie. Not that he had it in his mouth the entire time of course, but occasionally he wanted the comfort. Then daddy came home. Daddy: "Mason, give daddy to binkie." Mason gave it to up, knowing the days of the binkie are numbered. He was quite cheerful after that. After all, his daddy was home.

I later confessed my sin of allowing Mason to have his pacifier, (after Mason busted me) justifying it with "He was sick and it brings him comfort." They don't care of course, they want what is best for him, Amy agreeing that yes, he probably did need it, graciously easing me over my guilt at "breaking the rules."

Jana watched Mason a day later and did the same thing. He was fussy, rather out of sorts and wanted his binkie. Jana actually said, "He is whining and won't shut up until he gets his binkie!" So, his binkie he received. When Matt came home, Mason forked his binkie over to daddy. After several minutes of the normal whining that an almost two year old is famous for, Matt said to Jana, "Geez, I see why you gave him is binkie. He's cranky." while laughing.

Amy sends me a text of a conversation she had with Mason a few days later. Mason: "Want binkie." Amy: "No, Mason, you don't need it. No Binkie." Mason: "Want Binkie!. Wa Wa Wa." Amy: "No Mason. You can't have your binkie, it's not bedtime." Mason: "Gamma do it." Amy: "Gamma isn't here buddy." Mason: "I want gamma!"

That's ok, little guy. Gamma wants you too! Only next time I have you, we are going to the park and going shopping. I think it has been a few weeks since you have had a surprise. Nothing big or elaborate is needed. Sometimes all it takes to get a huge smile is a piece of licorice or a juice box. Sometimes it is a small toy, found at a garage sale for a few bucks. Then there are time that all it takes is a binkie!

Trickery...You'd Think I Would Know Better.

OK. I admit it. I was tricked. Taken in. Conned. Fooled. All this by a 19 month old. This kid apparently is pretty good at this. It all started out quite nicely. After my adventure to take Mason out for lunch today, (which didn't work and I'll write about that later) it was time to return home and take a nap. For Mason that is, even though Grandma could use one herself.

The little darling only ran once from me when I told him it was nap time. So, I decided a little trickery was in order. I said, "Mason, were is your be be?' His be be is his fluffy, fleece blanket, which he must have for his naps. He ran to get it and I scooped him up the second he bent to retrieve it off the ground. Off to his bedroom we went. I pulled down the shade, laid him in bed, covered him up with his be be and turned on the Sea Horse Glow creature.

No sounds were heard for several minute. Then he became to jabber and screech something that sounded an lot like "Ga mmmaaa." "Come." This went on for several minutes. All was quite. Again, he began to jabber as I could hear him running around in his crib. I heard a few bouncing sounds, a few that sounded like he wa taken a kick or two at the wooden slats, then a very large thud. Oh my God. The kid fell out of his crib. I knew it. I just knew he would be able to get out on my watch. Wouldn't you know it? This stuff always happens to the Grandmas. Why can't he do this when his mama and daddy are here? They can be the ones to witness this first time feat? Why me?

My heart starts instantly pounding, while my stomach has that white/hot feeling when you are scared. Know what I'm talking about? That I would like to vomit after I faint feeling? There are no sounds after the thud. I go running in there. The little master of trickery is standing up in his crib, and begins laughing and jabbering, while pointing to the floor. He had thrown his Sea Horse creature out so far and hard, that it landed beside his changing table. Apparently he now wants it. "Geez, wasn't this funny grandma?" I swear that is what Mason said. No, kid. This is not funny.

As I handed him back his Sea Horse creature, he grabs my clothes and literally climbs up on me, sideways. As I turn around to retrieve him back to the front of me to put him back into his crib, he slides down, kicking and is off running for the hallway. Laughing. Yes, he is laughing at me. I have been tricked by a 19 month old. The humiliation is still setting in. Lord, I admit it. I fell into the trap. I chased him into the kitchen. "Mason it's nap time." "Time to go night night." "NO." he yells and runs to the corner by the baby gate, and I swear, he is trying to hide on me! Seriously.

Back to bed he goes. No sounds have been heard since I started writing this post. No screeching, no laughing, and best of all: no thudding. I think it's safe to say he is out like a light. I'd look to see. However, as my luck would have it, the little squirt would be laying there awake, ready with one more trick up his sleeve to get out of his crib.

Fooled by a 19 month old. History in the making.

Mr. Personality: Meet Mr. Attitude

I don't know what happened. Neither do his parents. No one is accepting responsibility for this Mr. Personality meet Mr. Attitude individual who calls himself my grandson, Mason.

His mama claims she put him to bed the evening he turned 18 months old, a charming, obedient, eager to please toddler. He woke up the next day, with a few things on his mind, that he apparently had been trying to get out for a while now. The year and half age must have been the key that turned the lock. He woke up, as usual. It didn't take him long, Amy tells me, to enter into the new world of Independence. "NO. STOP IT. MINE. STOP, STOP."

"Mason, time to eat," as I put him in his chair and set the food in front of him. He just stares at it. You would think I was offering him a plate of snails, for goodness sake. "Here, Mason. Grandma made you oatmeal and a banana. The banana went to the floor very quickly. "No." he yells. Hmm. Well, OK, let's try this one: Mason, here is your other half of the banana. "NO," he yells as he flings it.

He is busy jabbering, apparently not pleased with his breakfast, is all I can think of? Maybe I should help him a bit. These kids need coaxing sometimes, right? Not. I pick up his spoon. "STOP IT." he yells at me. OK. I put the spoon down. He picks it up. He looks at me and it too, hits the floor. OK.

Let's try another around of banana. Now, Aunt Jana (na na) is home for the weekend. This is HER weekend with the baby. So, technically she was in charge, however, she also was told to STOP IT an awful lot that day. To continue..."Mama, Mason is smashing that banana into his ear." "WHAT?" I look over and the kids has a huge, I mean so huge that it covered his entire outer ear, chunk of banana that he has ground INTO his ear, and it guarding its removal by placing his hand over his ear. As I fish it out, Mason is yelling "NO, STOP IT" while Jana, who is suppose to be in charge, is laughing her butt off.

In the meantime, oatmeal is being flung about. What oatmeal did enter his mouth, apparently never made its way down his throat. No, he looks at me and slowly lets the oatmeal ooze out the side of his mouth, down his chin, and onto his tray, all while he looks at me and gives me that "I know you think I am cute, grandma," look. Then he grins, that little mouth showing his pearly white teeth. Damn it. I wasn't going to. I was determined in my most experienced, been there, done that life, that I wouldn't. Damn it. I did it. I laughed. I couldn't help it! There is just something about that grin, with those little, razor sharp pearlies gleaming, looking at me in pure delight with those beautiful eyes. I am sucker. A sucker for that grin. A sucker for those big eyes, just like his mama's eyes when she was that age. Oh, God help me when he is older and ask for toys at the store.

He wants to do everything by himself now. Or he decides he doesn't want to do it. Let's change your diaper. "NO." He runs off. Mason, time for a ba ba. "No." He runs off. Mason, let's take a bath. "No." "Play with me?" I ask, as I pick up some of his toys to help him. "STOP." he tells me. He is entering his own world of learning to entertain himself, trying to figure out how to make his toys do what HE wants them to do.

He climbs, he runs, he chases, he plays, he jabbers. He has no fear. What kid likes to go to time out? He does. He decides to put himself in there, because it must be cool in his mind to sit on the floor for 30 seconds or so with nothing to do. Amy said he just sits there like a good little boy, beaming at what a wonderful thing this is. His I can do it attitude is wonderful, and wonderfully funny at the same time.

Ok. I admit it. I had a blast. I think it is rather funny all this independence. The no's, stop and stop it that he has been known to mention a time or two. I loved just sitting back and watching how he interacts with his world on his terms. They need to do this. A necessary stage in their development. Trying to assert some control of their lives. I know these stages developmentally. But, this is funny! Really, really funny! His mama and daddy are in for the run of their lives with this one. I think I also may have met my match with this kid. Mr. Attitude has arrived and has met Mr. Personality. The two will now be tag teaming the parents and grandparents alike. We are done for. Toast. Totally screwed! It's so hard not to laugh when Mr. Personality meets Mr. Attitude.

It's those teeth. I know it.

I Think He Likes this Going to the Relative's House

Mason is up to spend the night. Jana hasn't seen him for about 8 weeks and she sent a verbal request that Mason come join her at Grandma and Grandpa's house for the night. Jana is in extreme baby fixation mode. Basically, I was told not to "get in her way." She needs a Mason fix.

I let Jana go in first to pick up Mason, as I knew she wanted to have that moment of seeing if Mason would recognize her. It had been a while. However, they webcam as often as they can, 2-3 a week. Clearly Mason remembered his Nana. When I came into the house, Mason was sitting on Amy's lap, giggling, smiling and flirting with her. That makes me feel so good.

As we were driving up, I glanced in the back seat. The sun is shining in the window, just a few small strands, striking the top of Mason's eyes, forehead and head. As he has a grin of delight on his face, Mason's head is tilted back, eyes closed, clearly enjoying his moment of basking in the sun.

As this moment reminded me of how it feels to have the warmth of the sun on your face, my mind immediately jumped to summer. Then, the grandma mode set in quickly, the plotting began. I began to think of all the things that I would now be able to do with Mason that was not do-able last year. This summer there is no reason he cannot come up and spend the night much more often. He is eating well and growing like a weed. I have so much vacation time that I had saved just for this purpose. I am hoping to have him one day a week or one day every week and a half.

Now, I know this may be a feat that I will have to maneuver carefully. You see, he is at the age where every day is joyful, as they are so much fun as they head towards two. I know his mama and daddy are not going to want to miss a moment either. Hmm. It's a good thing I don't mind driving down there to watch him. Perhaps we can work something out...one night at Grandma's house, then the next "babysitting" will be at Masons. Yes, that will be a good plan.

Although Mason has only been here for a few hours, and is now taking a nap, one thing I have enjoyed the most is the look of delight on his face when he saw his Grandpa. He just stopped playing when he saw Grandpa enter the room. He stared and broke out into this huge grin and pointed at him. Then both Mason and Grandpa broke out into a large laugh at the same time. These two were clearly pleased to see one another.

Mason got grandpa's attention to follow him. Mason drifted towards the front closet, as if he knew something was over there he needed, but wasn't quite sure. So, grandpa opened the closet and Mason was in business. Out came the talking Tonka trucks, out came the little dog he pulls on the string, and out came the blocks. After a few minutes of admiring these, he set off to see the rest of the house. He would wander to a few rooms, check them out, appear to have found satisfaction with them, nod his little head and off to the next room. When it was time to check out the kitchen, Mason wasted no time. He wanted the pantry opened and the drawer were his sippy cups were. When all drawer had been emptied and a snack was had, Mason seemed approved of his time here. He smiled, squealed and off he went. I think he likes this relatives house.

Mason is developing a rather independent attitude. I got him a pair of Sketchers, the light up kind. A SWAT, Police style of shoe where the lights are red/blue like a cop car and they have little headlights. He has had them for a few weeks and I think he gets "it" now. He stomps his little feet as he walks so he can see them light up. So, when were were in the car, I noticed he was admiring his shoes. I reached over and grab his foot and said, "What do your shoes do, Mason?" "Do they light up?" as I began to gently wiggle his foot and swat at the bottom with my hand to get them to light up. "NO!" Mason yells. I laughed and said, "Stop it." Grandma is playing with you. To which Mr. Independent yells, yells mind you,"STOP IT." Wow-wa. What attitude. Don't touch his shoes, I guess.

My what fun is that attitude going to be? What fun will it be if I buy all the cool toys and you won't let me play with them? What fun will it be if I get you a swing set and you won't let me play on it with you? What fun will it be if we get a sandbox and you won't let grandma sit in it with you? We will need to work on this attitude. Grandma wants to have fun too!

Well,the little guy will be up soon and I had better sweep the floor again. How on earth the Cheerios managed to get smashed from one end of the kitchen to another, I will never figure it out. I couldn't figure it out when his mama was little either. So, I'm not holding out much hope for figuring it out now. No wisdom has come to this grandma yet. I swear these is banana on the floor also.

I should hurry. He will be up soon and I want to play with the Playdough we bought him. He had better share.