Birthday Wishes

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My mother, long ago

This is my mother, at about age two.

 

This is my youngest grandchild, Isa. She is one year’s old today.

I have only seen her one time, when this picture was taken. I am one of the legions of grandparents across this country who are not part of their grandchildren’s lives. I think about her, and her sister, Freya, every single day.

And it hurts.

I hope you are well, sweet baby. I hope you know that you have my blood coursing through your veins. I hope to hold you again….someday.

 

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You Capture “Mr. Adorable”

May I present… “Mr. Adorable!”

My grandson, Kole, is already two months old. We had him for a little Grammie and Pops time last Saturday night. He hung out with us in The Man Room and watched TV, sat in his swing for a while, enjoyed a few delicious warm bottles prepared for him by his Pops, took turns snuggling with each of us, and had a nice bath in his new tub before his photo session Sunday morning.

This poor kid is going to think his grandma is a photo lens, y’all. But who can resist a face like this one?

I’ve been trying to participate in a photo forum on Thursdays. Brought to us by I Should Be Folding Laundry (me too, by the way)  It’s called You Capture. Every week there is a new theme. This week’s was “FACES.” When I read, “Get up close and show us some cute, handsome, stubbly, soft-skinned, furry, adorable, beautiful faces!  Even yours, if you’d like!”….well, I knew which face I wanted to share!

However, laundry must be getting folded over there today, because as of right now, there isn’t a new You Capture for this week. Oh well, hopefully she’ll get around to it.

Click on the link here to read about how to play along. Then do your best to visit the other participants’ sites – everyone loves the traffic, the comments and the feedback (not just you!)

Six Words About My Adorable Grandson

There’s a new forum I’m posting in called Six Words Saturday. You post something about yourself or your life, or whatever is on your mind using only six words. Not only is this an interesting little concept, but it works out well for me, because I only have time to type about six words.

*Edited to cross out vampire words.

Woo-Hoo! I’m Babysitting Him Again Tonight!

The last time I participated in this forum, we had just had a baby shower. Well, here is the result we were waiting for! May I introduce my grandson, “Kole!”?

Now go post something in only six words! You know you want to, and you know you can find time!

A Grandmother’s Confession

spincyclesmallThis week’s Spin Cycle topic is Parental confessions. We are supposed to confess something about parenthood that we don’t like. And it’s not supposed to be serious.

Well.

I have to be serious, y’all. I mean, we’re talkin’ about the most important job I’ve ever done – raising younguns’. So, I don’t know how to not be serious.

So here’s my confession. What I hated most about being a parent?

THEY GROW.

Yep. You heard me right. They grow. They grow up. They grow out. They grow away.

And one day, that precious little bundle that you were so overjoyed to welcome into your life….is a grown man with a precious bundle of his own.

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That toddler that you are having to remind for the 100th time to brush his teeth….has a mortgage and a truck that needs tires.

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That young boy that liked to play video games all night long is a physics major.

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And you wonder – where did the time go? Why didn’t I savor every single second? Why didn’t I play that stupid game of Old Maids or Monopoly? Take the night off of work to go to the class play? Read the extra bedtime story? Help with the homework project? Go for more walks around the neighborhood? Bake more cookies? Take them to the library more often?

If you are reading this, and you have young children – cherish these moments. Even though you might be bone tired, and not feel like it, and just want to crawl into bed yourself – read the favorite story again. Play the second game. Sit down and watch the Disney movie with them. Because when they are gone, they’re gone.

If you are blessed with grandchildren, you have a chance to do these things again. Honestly, I think that’s why us grandparents are so damn mushy about our grand babies. It’s our second chance. And, Oh God, how we’ve waited for it.

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A Thousand Words Thursday #11

Thanks to my friend, Jan, over at Jan’s Sushi Bar, I’ve decided to give this here posting every day thing a try, y’all. It’s called NaBloPoMo,and I can’t believe how long it just took me to write that. Stands for “National Blog Posting Month”. You post something every day for a month.

It’s ridiculously hard ….damn near impossible….a monumental task on the weekends..the biggest challenge of my life so far….can we just say only seven days left?…almost over and I have really, really run out of things to say…become the bane of my existence.

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Today I was priveldged to go to the OB/GYN specialist with my oldest son and daughter-in-law for an ultra sound of their baby, which is due Jan 2nd. They are having a BOY, y’all! Since I am the mother of three sons, of course little boys hold a special place in my heart. I feel so blessed that I’m going to have grandson.

My middle son and his partner presented me with an adorable granddaughter this past May, and what a thrill it was to finally hold a girl, after years of trying and longing for one.

I think I might be the luckiest woman alive, to have a precious granddaughter and now, a grandson on the way. As I watched the tiny unborn male baby on the screen, I could not suppress the tears of joy. And I thought about his little cousin, Freya, who will surely enjoy having him to tease some day, as only little girls can get way with.

In this picture of her with my mom, her great grandmother Joy Joy, you can see the beginnings of a little mischievous grin. One that is already worth a thousand words.

ATWTWhich just happens to be the rules of another photography meme called A Thousand Words Thursday. It is hosted by Jen, at Cheaper that Therapy. I think she’s on to something, myself. The idea behind this one is to post a picture that is worth a thousand words. Be sure and click on the link above, and add your photo to the list. Then have fun visiting all the other blogs and viewing what they think is worth a thousand words!

I hope she’s in Papa’s arms now

This beautiful, magnificent woman, Gladys Green Parker, decided to go on home last night. I was lucky enough to be her oldest grandchild. She was a poet, an artist, and the Matriarch of our family. Right now, I hope she is reunited with Papa and Mama Green and listening to their stories again.

 The Story of Gladys

 Let me tell you about my family and my earliest recollections. There was Papa, Mama, six boys and me, the only girl. Two boys came along before I was born – Alvah, age 4, and Morris, age 2, who was called the “knee baby” because he was just walking good and after I was born, he was “next to the baby.” Four more boys came later.

My Papa, Baxter Council Green, was a wonderful, smart man. He was born and raised in an area known as “the green swamp” near Abbottsburg, N.C., a little old place outside of Bladenboro. Although he only had a fifth grade education, Papa was a smart man. He could do figures as well as anyone and read real well, too. His learning was all from experience. He and my brother Alvah invented a system for cement septic tanks that were eventually put down all over Myrtle Beach, S.C. Well known and respected in his time, everyone in Myrtle Beach called him “Plumber Green” – and a sign with those words written on it hung on his house, making him easy to locate. When he died, his funeral was a humongous affair – one of the most heavily attended in Myrtle Beach in those days.

He was the quiet type, a true Southern gentleman. With his light brown hair and clean cut appearance, he was handsome in a reserved way. He never had a moustache or a beard. I remember watching him was his face and how he would bale water up on it over and over again. The only remarkable feature he had were his outstanding and expressive blue eyes. When he smiled, his eyes would twinkle. For some reason, he was unable to laugh out loud, so instead of laughter, tears would shine in his eyes.

Sometimes he was rough and stern on the boys when they needed it, especially Morris, who was very witty and dry and seemed to have a knack for getting into trouble. But Mama, who never fussed about a thing, in her quiet way, knew just how to calm Papa. He always put Mama on a pedestal.

There has never been a woman born like Mama. Harriet Adrian Gladden Green, called “Hattie”, was a beautiful lady with soft brown eyes, dark brown wavy hair, a nice, almost olive complexion, a short curvy figure and a sweet smile. No wonder Papa decided to marry her the first time he met her. Papa said, “The first time I saw your mother, she and her Daddy were sitting on their porch, and my stomach did an upside-down.” They both talked to me separately and told me all about their courtship days. His talk was all about her. It seems as thought she was the “Belle of Masonboro Sound” and he had to ride his bike eight miles on an old oyster shell road when he went to see her. There was a lot of pushing pedals for him to woo her away from the Masonboro fellows.

The Courtship of Hattie and Baxter C.

by Gladys G. Parker (7/16/1968)

I always like to hear

Her tales of long ago

I’d draw my chair up near

Her voice was soft and low

Hattie talked the most

About her courtship days

Then she’d smile and boast

About her wiley ways.

The country boys had not a chance

For, coming up from town

Was “Dude”, her new romance,

Biking, ten miles down.

“Dude”, really not his name.

His name was Baxter C.

But, the fellows played the game

Of green-eyed jealousy.

Baxter C. had a friend

Who also lived in town.

One day Bill slipped away

And brought his surrey down.

Oh! She thought she was a duchess

Riding in a carriage.

She had forgotten Baxter C.

Who had his mind on marriage.

Little did she know

He was on his way right then

Suddenly, she saw him!

Cycling around the bend.

No, not a great big fight

But, oh the flurry flew

Alas! She knew that very night

Baxter C. would do.

Papa often smiled

While she talked about her beaus.

He really didn’t care

Because he loved her so.