I’ve watched him grow up, but it caught me by surprise

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I’ve watched him grow up, but it caught me by surprise

My daughter Julie has an app on her phone that makes it simple to create a digital collage. So I am used to getting photos from her, which juxtapose images of last summer with images of this summer or that show her children at multiple ages on multiple first days of school. She recreates poses, too, driving to a spot where a picture was shot and taking a photo of the same people in the same pose, from the same angle a year or two later.

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With Each Paper Crane, a Child’s Love Takes Flight

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With Each Paper Crane, a Child’s Love Takes Flight

I keep looking at them. They arrived in a 12-by-16-inch manila envelope, addressed to my husband. So, technically they are not mine.

“I hope 73 brings you joy and happiness!” Megan, who is 11 and our son’s oldest child, wrote on a card she made for her grandfather. “For your birthday,” she continued, “I made you 73 paper cranes. Each one represents one year of your life.” My husband spreads them out on the couch. They are colorful things…

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The Out-of-Touch Grandma

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The Out-of-Touch Grandma

Ah, for the good old days — just a few short years ago — when the grandkids were one, two, and three. Christmas shopping was a breeze! I couldn't make a bad choice.  Everything I picked out and brought home was perfect.

"Mom, I love the matching dresses!" one daughter gushed. “I love the Frosty hat and mittens," said the other.

I love the toys! I love the books! I love everything! That’s all I heard.

I was in Grandparent Heaven. I bought a Fisher-Price zoo, a farm, even the Christmas manger. I bought extra little people. I bought a tea set and a tractor. I bought…

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In music and lyrics, a link from her childhood to theirs

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"Tammy" was the favorite song of my best friend, Rosemary, and me. But after singing it at the Policeman's Ball in 1957, I set it aside for over 40 years. Then one night, it reappeared out of the blue when I couldn't get my granddaughter to sleep.

They fall asleep to "Tammy." It's their lullaby of choice.

"Want me to sing you a song?" I ask whenever they are mine for a night and every one of them, every time, says, "Yes, Mimi. Will you sing 'Tammy?' "

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Oh, to be a kid once again in the summer

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Oh, to be a kid once again in the summer

Kids have no lists. No calendars. No scraps of paper with scribbled ­reminders to pay bills, get dental floss. No baby sitters to call. No appointments to keep. No shopping to do, no places to go and things to buy. Spreadsheets? Quicken? "Where's the coupon for ­Jiffy Lube?" and "Has anyone seen the laundry receipt?" "Thank you for contacting me, but I'm away on vacation and will not be checking my e-mail. If you need immediate assistance, please contact. . . All these things are in the future.

Childhood is a paper boat borne along by a lazy breeze on a summer day.

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She met the Cookie Monster, and found it was she

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I ate the kids' cookies.

My neighbor, Katherine, who lives across the street and bakes all the time, yummy things like cakes layered with raspberries and cakes dripping with chocolate, put two freshly baked chocolate chip cookies in two baggies last Tuesday, then handed them to me because it was nearly 5 p.m. and too close to dinner time for cookies. That's what the children's mothers repeated three times before they left their daughters with me: ``Don't feed them anything, Mimi. Not even if they beg. It will spoil their dinner.''

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Her `Tammy' still sings true

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I was such a goofy kid that I actually believed that when you grew up, life turned into a musical. I was raised on musicals - Judy Garland, Doris Day, and Gene Kelly singing and dancing on the small TV in our living room, ``The King and I,'' ``Annie Get Your Gun,'' ``South Pacific'' - blaring from a record player when the TV wasn't on.

Music filled our little house. My mother sang. I sang. My father tried to sing.

I thought everyone sang.

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T-ball is a hit for adults, too

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I took more than 200 pictures last Saturday morning. A few are OK. You take pictures of little kids in baseball uniforms and you're sure to get some decent shots. But not one of them comes close to capturing all that was really happening at Devoll Field in Canton last week.

It was opening day for Little League. T-ball division, the smallest players in town. The field swarmed with them, 5- and 6-year-olds in uniforms, sponsored by some of the town's businesses.

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A new baby brings a song to her heart

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Lucy is my first grandbaby, and her song just came. I didn't expect it, so I didn't go looking for it. It found me.

I was singing all the time back then, when my first daughter was pregnant. "You Are The Sunshine of My Life" and "My Special Angel." "You'll Never Know Just How Much I Love You" and, of course, "Baby Love."

The baby wasn't even close to being born, but I was already head over heels in love. And people in love are known to do some strange things, like walk on clouds and burst into song.

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FEARING THE BAD WHEN LIFE IS GOOD

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FEARING THE BAD WHEN LIFE IS GOOD

You try to teach them the eternals, that life is good, and people are kind, and nothing is so bad that you can't get through it. And most days you believe this. But then you replay history, or you watch the news, or you pick up a paper and see the face of yet another person maimed, killed, robbed, blown up, beaten, kidnapped, raped, sick and dying, and you think you're selling your kids a pack of lies.

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IN DUE TIME, BIG BOY PANTS WILL WIN

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IN DUE TIME, BIG BOY PANTS WILL WIN

With the puppy, it was simply a matter of carrying her outside, plunking her on the grass, and letting her do her thing. She was 6 weeks old when we got her and was house-trained in a few weeks. No "how-to" books. No "Ten steps to housebreaking your pooch." And absolutely no guilt that she was too young to introduce to the backyard, or that our approach might cause her irreparable psychological harm.

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