Tag: Grandchildren

St’ehcaytion (Staycation…..)

St’ehcaytion (Staycation…..)

No opportunity for a vacation in the near future, perhaps a one day ‘stay’cation is in order. Seeing as it’s the Canada Day holiday here in Canuck land, and 150th no less, perhaps it would best be called a ‘St’eh’cation. This is obviously my inept attempt at some Canadian humour.

Madden, Mason, and Ivy - hooked on electronicsAs our childcare responsibilities have been frequent it seems that the ‘me’ time or ‘our’ time has been somewhat restricted. We have had the g-kids almost every day and in fact we filled in for the closed daycare on both Thur. and Friday. On Friday we even hung out with our g-nephew Mason, he likes to chum with Madden and Ivy.

Saturday was also a day off, sans children,  so I did take the time to catch up on a couple nagging home tasks. Don’t kid yourself I did relax a titch too. So today (Sun) when the opportunity came to leave town I took the opportunity. Unfortunately my wife is sick again so I had to go solo. It was only a quick trip to Salmon Arm to sit in on a private showing of Despicable Me 3 but I thought the road trip might be nice and it may provide me with the time to take a few photos. I did get a couple, maybe if they meet my high standards I’ll post them.

I’m winding up the afternoon with a beer and some lunch at one of my favourite haunts, Brandt’s Pub. It’s a short walk from my house and I like to come here to write. And if I have a bit too much libation I can stagger home. When I think about it I don’t think any of it really improves my writing but it’s a nice excuse to get away, and have a couple beer, and I can kid myself about my blogging.

Oh, My lil’Buddy

Oh, My lil’Buddy

Oh my lil’Buddy, how my heart aches, for you! You are struggling and we are struggling with you.

Our pain is for my grandson, Madden. He was recently diagnosed with ADHD and was prescribed medication for it. I know nothing about the various drug therapies but of course we all hoped this would be put him well on the way to having a somewhat ‘normal’ life, without the angst and stresses associated with the disease. He showed signs of calmness almost immediately and steadily improved to the point where he was ready for the next step, an increase in his meds. That’s where the train came off the tracks.

While he took his meds easily and without question when it was 1 pill it quickly became a problem when there was 2. The issue wasn’t the swallowing it seemed but more that he just decided he wasn’t going to do it anymore. So, it stopped.

Now most people ask “well, how does he get to decide?”, and they are correct, In a way. When you have a child with a strong will though, as he certainly does, you don’t just easily tell him what to do. If he decides he doesn’t want to take the pill(s) there is little you can do. You can’t really force it down his throat, you can’t hold him and put it in his mouth. You can try to mix with food or drink etc. but due to the slow release nature of this medication you can’t crush or otherwise change the form of the pill. In essence you are stuck. And striking or spanking is not a solution.

This has of course caused, or contributed to, a significant deterioration of his behaviour. Where he was much calmer before and relating to other kids he has now become somewhat aggressive and is frequently bouncing off the walls. His relationship to his parents, to me, and even to his Gram is strained, and his Gram has always been someone who has always been in his court unwaveringly. She now struggles against (what seems to her) to be the giving up of all those around Madden. While we haven’t given up we all have our limits, and mine in particular has been breached.

It has gotten to the point where even at daycare he is becoming unwelcome. Sally, the daycare provider, has also been one of his staunch supporters and even she is reaching her limits. The other day he was given a time-out due to his actions, so he sat there alone while other kids were being taken home. If I had to guess I’d say it was not only embarrassing but perhaps even humiliating, but then I know nothing of a 5 year old’s psyche.

Oh, my lil’buddy! My heart aches.

Pay Attention, To the Attention

Pay Attention, To the Attention

Pay attention, to the attention. A catchy phrase if I do say so myself.

I’ve taken to journalling for/to each of my grandkids, an idea that came up from a YouTube video I inadvertently came across one night. In the video, which was oriented toward journals, the creator mentioned he has kept journals for each of his grandkids and I thought it was a great idea! Nuf said, I’ve done it.

As I wrote to my grand-daughter Ivy today I was reminiscing over the many times she has run lovingly into my arms, or spontaneously yelled out (literally) Poppa!, as she charges towards me. It melts me, as it should, and the challenge for me is to recognize and appreciate it. I have to ‘pay attention’ to it. I must Pay Attention to HER Attention. Paying attention, or acknowledging the attention paid to me, must be a priority. The kids need to know that I am appreciative of their love. And really it should apply to everyone.

 

Home Again

Home Again

I am Home again, and while catching up on some communications I received a ‘pingback’ from another blogsite called “Beyond The Baby Book“. For those that don’t know a pingback is a notification that someone else has posted a link back to your website or blog on their site. In this case it happened to be a previous post of mine for a Photo Challenge of “Home”. The post is below:
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Home is Where the Hearth Is
Home….., home is where the hearth is. That’s my take on a popular quote:

Home is Where the Heart Is – Pliny the Elder
Now I honestly have no idea who Pliny the Elder is but I’m sure a quick search on Google or Wikipedia would answer that question. Home, is where you are most comfortable, perhaps the happiest. It can be in your own home or somewhere else with a loved one. It’s where you feel content, no false front required or desired. Hopefully home is with those you love most, your family, a wife, your children or your grandchildren.

Family, Loved Ones
Home, where the cares of the world ease, where you can be at peace and problems outside your world evaporate. It’s a place to care, and be cared for, to love and be loved. Home ….. is Home.

I also feel at home outside, in my yard. I can be in my garden or just sitting under the maple tree with a book, perhaps a beer or coffee at my side and thoughts of relaxation and calmness washing over me. Not a care, nor a concern, a oneness with life and nature ….. hold on, maybe that’s the beer talking. Better take it easy……

Holy Place
I call that place under the maple tree and surrounded by cedars my ‘Holy Place‘, and I look forward to visiting it again soon, when the spring sun comes and the warmth takes the snow away. It will be one of my outside homes.

Another area I like to call home is sitting on the deck. It’s a place to catch the morning rays of sun and perhaps the cool breezes as they wash over the space. I’ll likely hear the wind chimes playing their rich tones, like so many church bells tolling their virtues. I’ll be reading there too, or perhaps posting to the blog, or journaling my morning pages. I’ll feel the peace, the warmth of the sun and the calmness. I will be ok there, in any of those places I call home. I can recognize my fortune and acknowledge my gratitude. It’s good to be home.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Up

Weekly Photo Challenge: Up

Ok, I had to do it. Pictures of grandchildren are at some point mandatory. In this case he, my grandson Madden, is standing “Up”. This is not the first time but certainly one of the first. He looks like such a little man.

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Also where I thought I might have some difficulty finding something else “Up”ish, in fact I found a number of shots that could be tied to the “Up” concept (albeit loosely in some cases). Enjoy.

This weeks photo challenge is “Up”. As always to see additional posts please go here, to the Weekly Photo Challenge page.

Dad says: “I’m a Little Short of Money”

Dad says: “I’m a Little Short of Money”

I just got a call from Dad.  I was out (am out) for my walk so he left me a voicemail.

“I’m a little short of money”, he said.

Of course there was more but this is the jist of it.  Now I don’t know what that means, does he have no money in his wallet, or did he go to the bank and think there was no money there?  Shouldn’t be the latter because I just went online (from my phone, cuz I can) and checked his balance. Inquiring minds need to know.  I’m confused.  I’ll call him shortly to get the lowdown.

I still feel frustration when I talk to him. That alone pisses me off, that I get frustrated, never mind whatever he calls about.  And it’s not like he’s always calling, but typically when he does there’s some issue that needs resolving.  Often it isn’t even an issue but more like a situation where he has something confused.

Look at me, who’s the whiner in this story?  I should be grateful he’s still around. I AM grateful.  We never know what we’ve got until after its gone, that’s a for sure.  He ALWAYS tells me he appreciates me, and whatever small things I can do for him ARE small in the big picture.  Next time I whine slap me upside the head, k?

Tic Tac Toe
Tic Tac Toe (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As I’m sitting here in the coffee shop, smelling the fresh brew and warm pastries, I love to watch the people.  I think I could study them all day, trying to figure out their stories. Right now there’s a man and small child across from me playing tic-tac-toe.

I think he must be the grandpa, the boy his grandson.  He’s appears to be about my age (old) but you never know these days, it could be a second relationship for him.  What you can tell is that he’s thoroughly enjoying the toddler, and trying to teach him the game.  They chatter back and forth and occasionally I hear a giggle from the boy, or a guffaw from the elder.  There’s pride in the grandpa’s eyes.

These scenes warm my heart.  I think of the future with my grandson, perhaps I’ll teach him tic-tac-toe as well.  Maybe we’ll go for coffee when he gets older.  I hope so.

These situations makes me feel somewhat in limbo land.  I think of my Dad and his needs.  I think of his care, and what his future may hold.  I think of my connection with him, our past.

I also think of my kids, I ponder what could have been with my son Shawn had he not died.  What would we have done together?  How would we have bonded? This makes me sad.

And I think of my grandson, and what our future might look like.  How many things we can do together.  This makes me optimistic and happy.

So it’s about life isn’t it, the past, present, and future.  They are all so important.  How do I connect them?

The Cycle of Life

The Cycle of Life

So today (technically Mar.10) I’m officially a grandfather.  Whether I’ll be Grandpa, Gramps, or I’m thinking Poppa, I am still very happy and can’t wait to meet the new addition.  His name is Madden, 9 pounds 5 ounces, and he is cute as a button.  Officially it happened last night around 8 pm and while we couldn’t be there we were with our daughter in spirit.

Read More Read More

Am I Afraid to Die?

Am I Afraid to Die?

“Am I afraid to die?” my wife asks me over lunch the other day.  Not your typical table-side conversation topic, but timely nonetheless.  And the question didn’t come out of the blue, but rather as an extension of an ongoing conversation on my mental state and well being.  I have been mentioning to her that I’ve been feeling more anxiety lately, that it seldom seems to leave me and it’s particularly acute when I think about work and having to continue at my present employ for some time yet.  Anxiety I can’t seem to shake, a fear and trepidation of some significant event about to engulf me, perhaps not dying but death itself.

She is well aware of my depression, and even dealt with it herself as a result of the PTSD she suffered after the death of our son.  “Are you afraid to die?” she said, “because I’m not, I will see Shawn.” (our son).  Just the thought of that conversation brings tears to my eyes and a heaviness to my heart.  The thought of our son and seeing him again in the hereafter is emotional to say the least.  I would relish that time, but do I desire death to achieve it, No.  I can’t say I want to die, nor do I think she “wants” to die, but am I afraid of dying? Perhaps……., of death, more so.

I don’t think I ever really thought about my death in any depth before.  Of course we all probably consider that it might happen to us one day (joke), and I wonder if we are ever really prepared.  That, I think, is the crux of it for me.  I do not feel prepared.  I feel like my life is being wasted in its present use, I want so much more and yet feel trapped in my circumstances, held captive by my lifestyle and material wants, incapable of breaking free and shaking off the chains that bind me.  Saddened by my weakness, overpowered by my grief.

One of our daughters is pregnant, due in March 2012, gender unknown.  It is a sign of rebirth, an indication of life and how life should be.  The future incarnate.  It is maybe one more reason I am afraid of death, I want to meet my grandchild and live my life so as to see it grow and learn.  To be part of that learning, to teach much as I’ve taught my other children, to learn how much more I can love.

I have so much to live for.  Such a life we have in this great country, so many freedoms and opportunities, perhaps I am overwhelmed by my fortune.  I realize I am afraid, and worried I won’t be able to fulfill the destiny I’ve envisioned, of living with and loving my family.  I have also come to understand It’s not death I’m afraid of, it’s not having life.

Picture these Words

Picture these Words

A picture’s worth a thousand words, or so they say.  I try incorporate that axiom in my postings and where I personally find it effective I can only assume others do too.  Inserting a picture or two can compliment the word and provide some context.  Photography is a powerful medium, the use of it can be amazing.  Art in any form can be equally effective in capturing a moment, an idea, and often an emotion.

law bunch crazy photography write write write love writing I’ve often thought I should get back into photography, it was a passion 15 or more years ago, maybe 20 or 25 when I add it up.  My medium of choice was black and white, and film of course not digital.  It was where one could focus on the shapes, figures, and positioning rather than relying on colour.  My subjects were primarily my children, then only toddlers.

it was a means for me to express myself, a time well before my writing and blogging wasn’t even a concept as far as I know.  It was a way for me to chill and commune with nature or spend time with loved ones.  It was release and relaxation, awe and awesome, beauty and certainly beneficial.

I’ll have to get another camera, or perhaps do as others have done here and used only the camera in their phone.  That would add to the challenge and require me to put my thinking cap on so as to frame shots appropriately and capture the essence of the moment.

It could only help me, it would inspire me to be optimistic and think good thoughts.  It should bring me out of the darkness and into the light.  It will help me spell those thousand words.