Children's Literature: Kid Stuff

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Free Range Granny V 2.0

Prologue - 2013

For not-yet-born baby

I haven't seen your face

Nor can I guess the color of your hair - or even if you have any.

I had no idea you were being conceived

Nor was I there for your birth

So how are you different from the other millions - unknown

affecting our universe with every flutter

As the proverbial butterfly?

——————-

Phase Two:

Free-Range Granny - 2017

I feel like a free range grandma:

If I wake up on time,

I help baby get ready for preschool

Sometimes I help with breakfast.

It works so much better

If I tell her that playing with food

Is allowed only with me.

I make smiley faces with cut up bananas,

A kid-friendly activity that’s always a hit.

It could be a man or a fish

Or even a toucan

With a long beak

sometimes with raspberry eyes

Or dollops of jelly.

But bananas are the most versatile

Sometimes my limited repertoire

Extends to the same tricks

With peanut butter and jam

On the bread of her choice.

Sometimes it helps to close my eyes

shut tight

with fists over the orbs

as she demands

additional bouts

of privacy,

while she dresses herself -

under the dining room table.

I have yet to do

the long brown tresses

slippery as silk.

Braids? One, two, or three?

A ponytail - or two: braided or not?

How to keep all that free-flying,

static-loving hair

away from her face and open mouth

full of peanuts (where she has just discovered

she can make her own peanut butter)

- to keep contamination

from the pb-free zone of school.

So much better to just watch mom struggle

with all that hair. She is the expert!

After all, I recall her having taught herself

to braid hair at three.  Her own hair nearly non-existent,

she practiced on her father's hair: bald in front, yet

long-enough at the neck to provide solid grounds

for practice.

Meanwhile I dream of finishing

her leftover breakfast

and jumping back into bed,

to await their return

late afternoon

Into early evening:

The time slot I've negotiated

for bad tempers and tantrums.

So much easier to handle then

than the same crises before school

or at bedtime!  

It's only been a week;

maybe we can make it stick!

But I'm wise enough

not to guarantee success.

Just like doctors

with their prophylactic pills:

buying time

until the divine

chooses to take over the reins,

leading us into newer unknown trails.

I'm trying to teach her the magic

of watching herself fall asleep:

"It takes time and focus.

And a lot of practice -

just like your other magic trick

shows!" I tell her.

She needs to gently,

very gently,

close her eyes

and focus looking through them

from the inside of her eyelids.

Can she see the dark turn white

and gently observe the layers

and layers of fog

give to light

as she sinks into a deep sleep?

It worked for me

so many moons, half moons,

and moonless nights ago.

And I hold on to the dream

that it may help her

conquer the fear

of letting go

to just let it Be.

All day I rest and snooze

read, eat, and play -

carefree, grown-up days

of no world-shaking consequence.

None required on this easy street

on Capitol Hill, where

just a few minutes' walk

downhill could lead me  

to fancy celebrations.

Lectures.

Seminars.

Important people. Ignoble stations.

Do I want to attend the final day's tributes

to the resident poet laureate consultant

preparing to leave the Library of Congress?

Or shall I forage in the fridge and pantry

and make another gourmet meal

instead?

With a cup of hot cocoa made from scratch -

a treat with organic maple syrup  

from Coomb's Family Farm?

Topped with homemade whipped cream?

(I could go out if the mood strikes:

No motherly or grandmotherly constraints

to observe!)

Instead, I crawl back into a warm bed

Blessedly free-ranging grandmotherhood  

On optional hiatus.  

Those options, all mine!

Thanks, mommy!

When you were a tot of your baby's demeanor

You would say to me: "...and when I'm the mommy

And you're the baby..."

Thanks for keeping your promise!

Here are a few verses from the Alphabet Jam book I created with my granddaughter, filled with children's poetry: Most of the wording was mine, and most of the artwork is from her.  

A grandma is for Always: always thinking about gcc, mommy, and daddy. Also, Always Asking, Arguing (though sometimes Agreeable!), Annoying, Anxious, Antsy, Artsy.  

B grandma is for Butter and butter in her Belly. gd’s Belly is nice and squishy and fluffy because of all the butter she loves to eat. Good for taking a nap on when she’s already asleep. But even when she is awake, she lets me play drums on her buttery belly—such a fun, kid-friendly activity!  

C gd is a cat lover, cookie baker, cantankerous crone who comes to visit gcc and her cats Ehu and Ula. C, of course, is also for Che who loves gd. Cheshmei made this card just for gc to show her there are no hard feelings, even when each of them finds a good reason to Cry!  

D is the sound we picked for gd because her name starts with the letter d. Then as she got older, we thought she could also be grandma P for Pew, Smelly, so you can read all about that when we explore the reasons for calling her GP.  

E GrandmaE is well-Educated for an ancient granny. She can also be Emotional, Evocative, Extraordinary—but hardly ever Energetic! Mostly, she is just lolling around or napping like our cats!  

GF is for freezing cold Grandma. She is mostly floppy under her blankets. GF is also for feathers. She likes to share the feathers she collects. I love feathers of all colors, shapes, and sizes. I made this feather birthday card for my daddy with a design of my own when GF sent me a bag full of feathers to play with.  

J is for jelly. gd is the best jelly spreader on my breakfast waffles, and my favorite jelly is mixed berries. J is also for jolly—right around Christmas time, when she puts on a big red outfit over her big squishy belly, gd is ready to spread good cheer. But we will read about squish when we get to S, and anyways, I’m just making up this tall tale for a bedtime story for just before Christmas time. Maybe dg Santa will bring me some more jelly or juju berries or a jug of jam or a jigger of juice?  

K is first of all for my mommy, Kakuti. gd says she is the best one we will ever find, so we better hang on tight!  

L. GrandmaL is for love. And that goes double for GCL for Love!  

M is for memories. Mine are sharp sharp, but gd sometimes forgets.  

M is also for mumble mumbly when I want to ask gd for a special favor, but I won’t say it loud enough for her to hear! Of course, gd is a bit hard of hearing, so I think that’s why she makes me say the same thing many many times!  

For example, gd is always forgetting that all of last year I was only five years old! She thinks by now I should be at least six or maybe even seven or eight! What I remember is her warm pool in Hawaii in the middle of winter. I remember her two cats: Goush and Ntaki. I also remember to brush my teeth every day and to wash my hands before I eat a snack. Everyone loves it when I remember to say "please!" when I ask for something and to say "thank you!" when I get what I asked for. This is a picture of gd drawing a map of her city: the parts she remembers and the other parts she doesn’t quite remember as much. But that’s OK because she can always ask people who do remember!  

N is not for grandma or even for me. N is for NOTHING except playing with NEON colors all day long.  

O O is for OPEN. GrandmaO is always open to suggestions. O like the fishes going “O” to take in some Oxygen. Keeping Options Open is the best advice she can give without telling people what to do.  

Etc. on to Z:-)