Tag Archives: grandpa

Before anything and everything

I remember as a kid bugging my grandpa to no end: what was there before the Earth? Before the solar system? Before the gasses? Before…

I think my endless quest to find out about the moon and the stars and milky way too largely caused his hypertension. He finally caved in and let me use his 12 shiny, leather bound Encyclopedia books that were limited editions printed specially for his work. I loved how they looked and smelled. How heavy they were and how I could find everything I ever wanted to know about.

My son is not even four and a half. I really don’t know much about kids and milestones. But I sure am not prepared for the what was there before there was anything talk. Mostly because I got so distracted by all the information in the Encyclopedia I forgot to ever look up the definite answer.

Anyhow the kid is volcano mad. He watches a documentary every chance he gets. Which is really defeating the whole purpose of TV. Many women have said that they have come to terms with TV watching kids because it is in fact educational. I am calling it right here, right now. Bull! We plonk our kids in front of the tube so we can take a shower, have a cup of coffee while it is still warm and catch up on social media. So if my son is watching a documentary about underwater volcanos none of these happen. Because every two minutes he shouts over his shoulder: mommy, why does lava cool off when it touches the water? mommy, why is our gas in the house not making our stove erupt? mommy why can we not breath through ash? Mommy…

You get the picture. The worst part? I really don’t know most of these things! Have I forgotten? I must have known at some point in my life or I would not have graduated, right? And so I spend my time online googling volcano facts.

But this morning, out of the blue he asked me why people were not extinct if they die. Followed by where we all came from and the inevitable tracing all the way back to gasses and explosions and what was there before there was anything?

I am still recovering. I just wanted to write this to say sorry to my grandpa. You were everything to me and I know that as much as you wanted me to succeed, learn and be the best I can be, sometimes you just wanted to do your cross puzzle in peace and quiet. I miss you so much. And I wish you could be here to take over sometimes and teach Little J how to read those Encyclopedias. Fast!

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Something is fishy

I grew up with my grandparents.

They were older. Not the type of parents that run with you in the park or play frisbee. They were old school. The type that told me to play in my room while they did adult things. But they made up for it with love and attention that most children can only dream off.

We spend time together in the evenings and played lots of board games and chess. My grandpa was brilliant, my grandma… Well let’s just say the woman has a heart of gold. And luck with cards.

I must have been about my son’s age when they bought me a memory game. It had 50 pairs, they were made of hard plastic and came in a pretty blue box. The images were graphic design like and the other side was just plain white. My grandma and I played it almost every day. I always won. That was probably one of the reasons they thought I was a genius. Which I might be. But the reason I always won was because I cheated. Kind of. See the design that was printed on the squares was very colorful. And as they were printing them, tiny little specks of paint splattered here and there. I memorized the ones that had a splash of purple, a green dot or a silver line going across it. They were so hard to see but I would scan the squares as we laid them face down and knew where at least five pairs were. The rest was easy. I am sure children have better memory then women eligible for a free senior’s bus pass.

I never really came clean about that. As years went by I started winning chess games with grandpa, card games with them both and Risk. On my own merit. The funny thing is that even as an adult when visiting them, grandma would pull out the memory game and I would remember the splash of purple, green dot and the silver line. Perhaps I have good memory after all.

The other day Little J asked if I wanted to play Go fish. He laid all the carton fish down, set up a purple boat for me, a green one for Bruce the Shark, Orange one for Simmy Sim and blue one for him. He took turns for him and his imaginary friend and I helped the stuffed shark and fished for my own win. Our glass dinning table is by no means small, but Simmy Sim is rather clumsy it seems and he kept knocking the fish down, which Little J was kind enough to pick up from the floor. From under the table. Glass table. See through glass table…

My 4 year old won the game. A few times in a row. He might be a genius. Trust me, it takes one to know one.

Bruce the Shark trying hard not to eat the fish. Photo is from my Instagram.

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Gone today, back tomorrow

I was talking to a Russian lady I know yesterday.

She is beautiful and very sarcastic. I like her a lot, mostly because I can be myself and not offend her. I feel the same way about all the bloggers from the ZE BLOG BLOC too.

But Irina and Bill from Smells like Borscht are even cooler then cool. They also happen to like my blog and for some strange reason want me to come and visit. So I am guest posting today, sharing a story about my grandpa. Come away with me. CLICK HERE. Over and out.

I will link this post to ”Wednesday

Not that I am particularly wise, but my grandpa sure was. And since Theresa is a wonderful friend, I don’t think she will kick me out.

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