Generations

CableDad has been working ridiculously late hours recently. I find it a bit demoralizing. He goes to work at 8 am and frequently has to work straight through until 2 or 3 am. Hell, last week he didn’t come home until 7 am and then had to leave again an hour later. To give myself a baby-break every now and then I have invited myself to spend Tuesday dinners with my mother and step-father at their house. My mother gets home from work around 3 pm and my step-father is home most days. MJ and I arrive on Tuesdays anywhere between 2 and 4 pm (depending on naps) so we can get there before the horrific traffic begins and stay until it’s time to get MJ jammyed-up (yes, it’s a word… at least in my house) and in the car where she passes out on the way home.

That’s one day a week. This past week I decided to take another diverting side trip and combine it with a family visit. I took MJ to spend the afternoon with her great grandmother. My grandmother lives about a 2 1/2 hour drive north of us. I won’t go into details about the excruciatingly painful drive up there in which MJ decided that napping wasn’t necessary but screaming certainly was. I also will skim over the discussion of the horrific rain storms that plagued us the entire drive back home guaranteeing me a tension headache by the time I got out of the car.

Instead I will post some pictures of MJ hanging out with her Great Grandmother and I will tell a short anecdote about how they became friends.

When we first arrived MJ was not in top form (understatement of the year here, folks). In fact, she was in a down right grumpy mood (see my above comment about the drive) and therefore was not really too interested in hanging with her Great Grandmother, whom she did not remember from their one encounter back in May. In fact, she did all she could to stay away… at first. Luckily Great Grandma had a bird cage. I say ‘luckily’ because at present MJ’s all time favorite toy is a little plush birdhouse with a roof and door that open. It has four plush birds that she loves to take in and out of the birdhouse. When I put the birds in front of her I am usually guaranteed at least 10 minutes of free time (read time to clean the kitchen, etc) in which she repeatedly first puts the birds in the house and then takes them out. However, aside from the evil monsters blue jays that nest in the tree outside her bedroom window and wake her every morning , she has never seen real birds. So, when I sat her on the floor in front of the cage and said, “MJ do you see the birdies?” (By the way, can someone please explain to me why every animal I point out to MJ has to end in a ‘y’? Why can’t I just call them birds? or cats? or dogs? No, now they have miraculously morphed into birdies and kitties and doggies.) she got VERY excited. She immediately stood up and tried to stick her hands in the cage to get the birdies out so she could then put them back in, because that is, of course, what ones does with birdies. Luckily my grandmother’s cockatiels do not nip. The birds provided a good distractions while my grandmother set about repairing MJ’s favorite blankie (there I go again with the ‘y’ endings…. blanket. It’s called a blanket, damnit!)

Of course, MJ was NOT AT ALL thrilled when she discovered that this strange woman, whom Mamma expected her to like, was in possession of said favorite blanket. In fact, she gave me a look that clearly stated that she thought me a traitor and promptly abandoned her bird viewing to investigate the situation up close. Excuse, me, I believe you have my stapler, I mean blanket!” (This, of course, is my interpretation of a series of babbles that sounded remarkably like, “Ta bfpt ma thththack mmmbiff!”) She crawled resolutely across the floor towards where my grandmother sat patiently reattaching the blanket edging, which MJ had just as patiently torn off the first week she had it. “No, seriously. I want that back please.” ( I love to imagine that my daughter is polite and uses words like please and thank you… even if I know that there is a snowball’s chance in hell that she will simply because her mother has a mouth like a trucker.)

Of course, since at the time that MJ demanded the return of the cotton hostage my grandmother still had a crochet hook embedded in its edging, no amount of pulling on MJ’s part could get the blanket safely back in her possession. This was when we discovered the game of tug-o-war. Although she kept looking over at me as if to say, “Mamma fix it!“, once she saw what a useless accomplice I was going to be, what with the camera in my hand and the laughter directed at her, MJ held her own and resolutely fought with her Great Grandmother over who was actually the rightful owner of the blankie (oops, blanket). Once Grandma finished the edging and safely stowed the crochet hook she allowed MJ to win the match, which was of course funny. Nearly everything is funny to MJ these days, especially when she wins whatever it is. Then her Great Grandma ceased to be the evil blanket stealing lady and because that cool lady who plays tug-o-war and peek-a-boo with Blankie (ok, I’ll just use it as a proper noun then).

When all was said and done, the cool lady deserved some MJ snuggles, which let me tell you, are few and far between for my incredibly independent little girl (you can’t hold a good girl back). The day was a success. MJ and Great Grandma decided that they get along and that a two generation gap is not so hard to overcome. It just takes a little time and a game or two.

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~ by CableGirl on Sunday, October 7, 2007.

8 Responses to “Generations”

  1. I know what cable dad might be going through, no it does not feel good.
    Good to see MJ bonding 🙂

  2. Wow. Am I ever ignorant. I always thought Blankie, doggie, kittie, and birdy WERE real words. Like “chippers” for the chipmunks in our back yard. I’m getting out my dictionary to prove my point. Also, wonderful pics of MJ and GG. Those photos will be family treasures someday!

  3. “JAMMIED UP”…well “jahmees” at my house is a real word and being “jahmeed up” is perfectly acceptable in my book. Most people call them “jaymies” and that is just *wrong*. It’s pahJAHmas therefore JAHmees.

    Details.

    Glad you have some time with the grandfolks for the young one to enjoy – no doubt the older generation finds everything she does aDOHrable.

  4. Blankie = blanket = “dahtchie (short “a” like jaaaahmies).”

    Object not to f*cked with.

    Hell hath no fury like a toddler separated from her Transitional Object.

    {shuddering at the memories}

  5. I believe you have my swingline stapler…funny comparison. Cool post! Take Care.

  6. love the pictures- wish there were more- hint- hint

  7. What an absolutely adorable story. I hope Cabledad (and YOU) gets a break soon!

  8. What sort of job does your husband do to keep such insane hours?!!

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