wake me when it's over!. . .

My usual thoughts at this time of year are, ‘I wish that I could stay in a closet until February!’. . . like a bear, I want to hibernate and forget about all the hoopla that goes along with this season. . .just wake me when it’s over.  I’m pretty much a ‘Bah Humbug’ kind of person, and yet, I just finished 72 handmade Christmas cards, go figure.   I come into the holidays kicking, screaming, and complaining.  But then I think, who do we have to blame for all of it?  Who do we blame for all the decorations, all the gifts, all the baking and cooking, and all the wrapping, all that wrapping?  Who?..the retailers?  Yes, they do bombard us with Christmas way back in October. . .whatever happened to starting the Christmas season AFTER Thanksgiving??  Well, my conclusion is that us women are to blame!!!  Yes, we did it all. . .are we such gluttons for punishment, or are we just so into celebrating???  I know that I’m not into all of this,  but we’ve been programmed by our mothers. . .we grew up with all of the so called ‘Hoopla’, and we just keep it going. . .year. . . after year. . . after year!!!   Be honest, if it was left to the men, there wouldn’t be ANY celebrations!!!   It’s not that I don’t like Christmas, but there’s just so much to do for just one day. . .and why is there so much to do?   Why do we buy so much, cook so much, bake so much, and wrap so much?  

I always did it for my sons, they love Christmas, and I always made sure that they would, but now, I’m at a point in my life where I want to cut down on everything.  When the boys were younger, we always cut down our Christmas tree, I actually loved that, my husband, Jerry, not so much.  We have a lot of photos of his ass sticking out from under numerous trees, looking for the best place to cut. . .when you’ve seen one of those photos, you’ve pretty much seen them all!  When we had the room, we would get an 11’ tree. . .ask Jerry how easy that was to straighten.  That tree that goes up, sooner or later comes down. . .that’s always a chore, and many a time I contemplated putting Easter eggs on it.

In the Polish tradition, our big celebration is on Christmas Eve, Wigilia, pronounced Vee-geel-ia, which literally means vigil, and supposed to be a fast from meat.  When I was little, it was always at my paternal Grandmother’s house, where we lived, and was always a meatless meal, which consisted of mushroom soup, and cheese or sweet cabbage pierogi, and a breaded baked fish.  Over the years, my kids and my cousins kids were not all that happy with meatless, so kielbasa, chicken fingers, & ham were added, along with an array of salads.

Wigilia 1965

                                

 After dinner, the 3 of us, myself, and my cousins Alan and Sharon, would wait for Santa to come.  There we sat, in our best Christmas outfits, velvet or taffeta dresses, and Alan with his hair all slicked back.  We always opened our gifts on Christmas Eve, and ‘Santa’ always made an appearance. . .usually an uncle or family friend who for that evening took on the ‘Santa’ persona.  He was driven to each relatives house by yet another uncle.  Our house was always the last stop, and by the time ’Santa’ got there, he was pretty well hammered.  After the gifts were distributed to us,  ’Santa’ always made his way to the kitchen, where a shot of so-called ‘celebration’ was waiting for him.   Hmmm, so that’s why ‘Santa’ always smelled like booze!!

My cousins Alan and Sharon waiting for Santa.

  
           
On Christmas Day, we visited my maternal Grandmother’s house, and since she had 10 children of her own, there were a lot of us cousins.   This ‘Santa’, and I use the term ‘Santa’ loosely, was the most scary-ass Santa that you’d ever want to meet.  He came in ringing his bells, and snapping his ‘pida’ (spelling???), leather straps, that we were always threatened with if we were ‘BAD’!!  He wore a horsehair mask, and a satin baseball jacket that was all shredded. . .SHREDDED!!!!!. . .what the hell kind of a Santa figure was this guy!!!!!  Of course we stood silently, afraid to make a move for fear that he would whack us with his strap.  Before he gave us a present he asked if we were good all year, of course we said we were.  Except for one time when we were a little older.  He made his rounds to all of us, and then got to my cousin Jimmy. . .Santa asked Jimmy if he was good, and Jimmy looked him right in the eye and said “NO”. . .OH MY GOD!! he said “NO!”. . .what would happen to him?????  Well, I don’t remember a thing about what came next, and I’m pretty sure that was the last time Santa visited.  When I think of that now, I wish I had that horsehair mask, it’s a pricey collectible item.

SANTA????????????

                                                         

When Jerry and I were first married, we got such a great deal on a real Christmas tree.  We bought it at the Bailey Market, a local farmers market in our neighborhood at that time.  The tree was all tied up with twine, and it was frozen. . . and it cost $1.00!!!   We were so excited about the deal that we got, but I figured that once we got it home, and cut the twine, the tree would probably look like crap.  But that wasn’t the case, it was beautiful, the perfect shape.  What we didn’t expect was that every time we passed it by, you could hear needles fall.  More and more needles kept falling, and before we knew it, the tree was just about bare. . .didn’t even make it to Christmas. . .a Charlie Brown tree for sure!!

And so it goes, Christmas after Christmas. . Traditions passed on. . .stories to tell. . .memories to look back on.  And for as much as I hate this time of year, we have something very special this Christmas, our first Grandchild, our Grandson, Henrik Finn.  He’ll make this a most wonderful time for us. . .a time to make new memories. . .who knows, maybe Henrik will show me that there is a good side to all the hoopla.

Sweet, Gentle Puppy. . .

The first time that I met Traveler, a strapping, young Alaskan Malamute, was 10 years ago.  My son Eric was working at a Kennel and had absolutely fallen in love with this handsome dog.  Traveler was being fostered by the kennel after being rescued from Alabama, a long journey to say the least.

                                            

Eric had been telling us about Traveler for quite sometime, and I knew that his heart had melted for this dog.  It was time to meet him.  Once we arrived at the kennel, Eric took me upstairs to a huge room that was used as an indoor run for the dogs that were boarding there.  He took me by both arms, moved me to the wall, and said ‘you wait here’. . .when he came back he had Traveler with him.  He let Traveler off the leash, and this gorgeous wolf-like creature ran full speed all the way across the room, turned around...and came directly to me, put both of his paws on my shoulders, and gave me an amazing ‘Welcome”!  I was in awe!!!  He was just beautiful. . Full of life, and ready to go.   It was then that I knew he would become part of our family. . . and so he did.

Not long afterwards, Eric & Sarah formally adopted him. 

Eric had a huge run installed in his garage, so that Traveler would not have to be crated at first when no one was at home.  On one occasion I can remember that Eric put him in the run, and we went out for awhile . . .when we returned, Traveler was in the garage, out of the run, just looking at us, almost to say ‘where’ve you been?’.   Somehow he had squeezed under the gate.  Another time, Eric and I went to an estate sale right in the neighborhood, Traveler was in the house now, since Eric felt he was now used to things.  When we returned a short time later, there, in the driveway,  was Traveler to greet us!  Eric said, very nonchalantly, ‘hey, look, it’s Traveler’...then, ‘OMG, how did he get out?’!!!!!  We jumped out of the car, and Traveler just walked right up to Eric, like nothing had happened….once again, ‘hey, where’ve you been?’!!  This time getting out through the bathroom window that was open. 

One incident was very scary and pretty much laid the groundwork for  Travelers life.  I was at work when I got a call from Sarah, she was in a complete panic.  She said that there was blood all over the house and that Traveler was hurt.  I rushed over there, and when I walked in, Sarah was white as a ghost…...I couldn’t believe my eyes….the living room had blood spattered all over.  When I walked into the bedroom, the site was unbelievable!!!  There wasn’t a surface in that room that wasn’t covered in blood!  It was pooled on the bed….smeared on the furniture and walls…..’My GOD, what happened here?!!’.   If I was law enforcement, I would have come to the conclusion that a murder had taken place.  Sarah said that when she walked in, she thought that Traveler had killed her cat, but she soon found out that wasn’t the case at all.  The window in the bedroom was broken from the inside.  We figured that Traveler must have seen something outside, and not realizing his own strength, landed his paws on the window and broke it.  The glass sliced his paw and cut his tongue...he panicked, and began to run all over the house…..hence, all the blood!  Before we cleaned up, Sarah and I took Traveler to the vet, but there wasn’t much that they could do for him, he had to just heal.

It was clear at this point that Traveler had anxiety issues. 

Eric needed someone to watch Traveler everyday. . .that’s where my Mother comes in.  At first, she was totally opposed to the idea, since she was never an animal person.  I never had a pet as a child, aside from gold fish that I assume got flushed at some point.  But once she met Traveler, and she saw just how gentle and sweet he was, it was instant love.  Traveler loved her just as much.  I honestly think that Traveler was my Dad reincarnated. . .they had the same gentle ways. . .the same ‘widow’s peak’ hairline. . .and I truly think that he was here to take care of my Mom (I even asked Traveler one time, looking him straight in his beautiful brown eyes, if he was my Dad). 

Traveler came to our house almost everyday for 10 years. . .and for 10 years. My Mom took wonderful care of him…..always thinking that he needed more to eat...and of course more treats.  It was an ongoing discussion between her and Eric about how he was getting exactly what he should eat.   

Traveler now had two homes . . .and all of us loved him dearly.  He loved when all of us were together. . .he would ‘Roo’ in delight!!. . .WE, were his pack!   

As the years went by, Traveler slowed down. . .as we all did.  My Mom was now in her 90’s, and getting around became more difficult for both she and Traveler.   

Recently, it became obvious that Traveler was having issues with his hind quarters.  Eric said that it was a nerve problem.  He was put on pain medication and Eric even tried laser treatments, but to no avail. . .Traveler was getting worse.  Even relieving himself was almost impossible.

We all knew what the inevitable was, but we all tried to put it out of our minds, after all, this was Traveler, our sweet and gentle puppy, he would always be with us. 

But, one day just two weeks ago, right after Eric and Sarah brought their new baby son, Henrik, home from the hospital, Eric had made the difficult decision to euthanize Traveler.  It was probably one of the hardest things that he ever had to do.  The next day was full of tears for us all, even though we knew it was right.  That night, Eric brought Traveler to our house to say 'Goodbye'. . .between the tears we gave him as many hugs and kisses that we could, not to mention treats.  Before they left, Eric told Traveler to say 'I Love You'.....and in his heartwarming way, Traveler lifted his head up and gave us 3 wonderful 'Roo's'. . .an 'I Love You' that we'll never forget. 

Eric made arrangements for his friend Mari, a veterinarian, to come to their house.  With his head in Eric’s lap, Traveler went to sleep.  Eric called me, and simple said ‘he’s gone’. 

Eric chose a beautiful spot for Traveler…..next to a tree, in their front park like yard.  Jerry and Eric readied the spot.  I gave an embroidered white sheet to wrap Traveler in; my Mom gave a bag of his favorite treats; Jerry put in a hat that he wore; Sarah gave an autumn flower; and Eric put down hay, added his stuffed hedgehog to go with him, a little bit of cheese too (his very favorite),  then wrote a note to Traveler to take on his final journey.

. . .he then laid his beloved friend to rest.

Traveler

2011

'Always Remembered. . .Always with us.'

Remembering 9/11. . .

On September 11, 2001, I arrived at work just before 9am. I walked through the waiting room, (I worked at a car dealership), and quickly glanced at the TV…..I saw a building in flames and asked the customers that were waiting, what had happened….they told me that a plane had hit a building in New York City. I raced upstairs to my office, and then went to the business office because they had a TV. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing…..the girls filled me in on what was going on, and then I ran back to my office, this time in a panic because I knew that my son Todd, who lives in NYC, took the train to work that passed directly under the World Trade Center. I had no idea what time he left for work. I called him immediately, and just prayed that he answered, ‘Please God, let him answer, please God, let him answer’…...he did, “I Mom, what’s up?” he asked in a calm voice. My God, I was so happy to hear his voice. . .I said, “Todd, do you know what’s happening outside?”...he said that he didn’t, and I told him what had happened, he couldn’t believe what I was telling him. He went to turn on the TV. 

I then ran back to the business office.. . As we stood watching in horror as the second plane hit, we all gasped! One of the girls said that the pilot must have been blinded by the smoke…..I looked at her and told her that this was no accident, it was a terror attack. This was so surreal…...could we actually be watching this happen? It didn’t seem to register for any of us that this was indeed really happening. And then, we watched as the first building fell. . . .dear God, how could this happen???? 

I went back to my office once again to call Todd. He lived in Brooklyn then, in D.U.M.B.O. to be exact, which was directly across the river from South Street Seaport, and a block away from the Brooklyn Bridge. He said that when the building fell, he lost all TV connections, and that he was taking his camera to the end of the street and that he’d call me later. 

Again, I went to the business office…..by this time, we watched the second building fall. . .we were all in shock. I couldn’t seem to get my insides to calm down, I was still worried about Todd, even though I knew he wasn’t in Manhattan, no one knew what would happen next. I decided to go home. 

Once I home, I was glued to the TV. Todd called at one point to tell me what he had witnessed. He said that what he thought was paper falling from the second building, were actually people jumping. He also said that the people that were running on the Brooklyn Bridge looked like they were on a conveyor belt, moving across the bridge to the other side, and that the air smelled of concrete and ash. I told him to try and get out of the city if he could, but that was almost impossible to do. Later in the day, he did get out through Brooklyn, and went to say with friends.. . .I was very relieved knowing that, and I told him to check in with me later on. 

For the rest of the day, I sat in utter disbelief in front of the TV, watching as events unfolded. . I kept the phone in my hand. . .and just cried.

House Hunters. . .

Our very first house was a two family, front and back flats, that we purchased before we got married.  It was in Kaisertown, where we grew up, and we lived there for 5 years before we moved to the suburbs.  Being landlords was not for us.  When we move in, I had to raise the rent to $100 for the front tenant, and it just killed me, because she was an elderly woman, but this was an investment for us and I had no choice.

Over the years, house hunting became a major weekend past time.  Even though we were already in our second home, which was beautiful, and in a neighborhood that the boys loved, it was in a sub-division, and we always had visions of living in the country, and thus pursued that perfect home of our dreams. 

On the way to this ‘perfection’. We did have a few eye openers. . .or perhaps a better word would be misadventures.

When Eric, my youngest son, was only a year old, we looked at a home that was completely out of our comfort zone.  It was in a rural area along Lake Ontario, and the house was in pristine condition. . that is, if it was 1930.  The wallpaper was all original, and this home had no kitchen cabinets, instead it had a butlers pantry, which was very common during that time period.  It had a back staircase, as well as a beautiful one in the front foyer.  This had always been something that I loved, back stairs, since my Aunt Kitty had them in her house, and I used to visit there a lot when I was a child (by the way, Aunt Kitty’s house is my all time favorite home).  The foyer was huge, and the staircase was gorgeous...all wood, and wonderful!!  When I first saw it, my jaw dropped, Jerry told me not to show so much positive enthusiasm as it might drive the price up. The bedrooms had no closets, which was also very common for homes built during the early 1900’s. 

In the basement was a cistern, which is a place to catch rain water.  I was also told that there were snakes in the basement...ok, I wasn’t going down there.  The property was on 5 acres, and included a barn, a chicken coop, and a couple other small out buildings.  It also had a front porch, which is also something that I’ve loved since childhood. 

The only neighbors at that time were chickens on one side and corn on the other, like I said, very rural.  This house would not be ’the one’, and I’m very glad that it wasn’t because my life would be very different now, and some of the people that I hold very dear would not be in it.  So we move on. . .

A few years later, we decided to check out a new area of homes. . yes, it was in a sub-division, but it couldn’t hurt to look. It had been raining for a few days prior, and the area was very muddy around all of the model homes. We proceeded to check each one out. By the time we got to the last one, our shoes were covered in mud. We walked in the last home and I told the kids to wipe off their mud caked feet in the front hall before we took the tour. . "Make sure you get all that mud off". At that point, something happened that was an absolute shock to us. . .we looked up, and in the kitchen, a family was eating dinner. . . "UHHHHHHH, HELLO?". . .talk about embarrassed. There we were, wiping our filthy feet on their front hall rug, thinking this was a model home. With a very ‘tail between our legs’ apology, we turned and got as far away from that house as possible. . .and then you just know we laughed our asses off!! Dare we move on?

The next house was also in the country, but not quite as rural as the Lake Ontario home, a bit closer to civilization. By this time, Eric was 10 and Todd was in his last year of high school.

This particular house was being sold by the owners, an elderly couple. He was very articulate, and we later found out that he was a handwriting expert and banker. They seemed very friendly and I think that they really liked us. The property was also 5 acres, mostly wooded, and the home was a small ranch, on a hill, and in perfect condition. The woman had a lot of beautiful antiques, and it was immaculate. I have to mention that Eric was not at all happy about even thinking about moving, in fact he pretty much decided he wasn’t going, no matter what!

This house seemed perfect for us, so we decided to put a bid in. Our bid was accepted and we put our house on the market and scheduled an ‘Open House’. A couple of weeks went by when I got a phone call from the woman. . .she was frantic, absolutely hysterical. . .I thought that her husband must have died. Uh, NO. . .he just packed up his stuff and left for a commune in Lake Tahoe...alrighty then!!!! I could not calm her down. She was very upset, but she seemed more upset that there was no one there to cut the grass. So, being the ‘NICE’ people that we are, we decided to go over there and Jerry would cut her grass.

When we arrived at the house, the woman was working in the garden….’HOLY SHIT, JERRY, SHE KILLED HIM AND IS BURYING HIS BODY IN THE GARDEN!!!!!!’!! I expected to see a hand in the soil!!

Oh My GOD!!!! We didn’t know these people, who knows if she was capable of something like that!!!! I could just see us on the news. Anyway, she proceeded to give Jerry his grass cutting instructions, and believe me, they’re were a lot...and they were very precise as to how she wanted that grass cut. I got to sit on the porch with her while we waited. She began to tell me a very strange, and twisted story. She said that her husband had a relationship with their daughter that was way too close. . .inappropriately close (OMG!! I don’t want to hear this stuff!!). . .she also hauled out a garbage bag full of his books regarding commune living in Lake Tahoe, with various passages highlighted. Apparently this was a place that he went often, and alone...but I don’t think that she realized that his intentions were to go there and stay once the house was sold, I think that these were his plans all along. 

Jerry finished the grass, and the woman gave his work a critique, it wasn’t quite up to her standards. . .I’m not sure that she even said ‘Thank You’. She brought out something for Jerry to drink and at that point told us that she had the locks changed. . .but that the locksmith was chasing her around the basement, so she had to tell him to leave. . .(look in the G-A-R-D-E-N!!!). Thank God I came with Jerry or he might have been accused of chasing her with the lawn mower.

When we left, I told Jerry that I didn’t want anything to do with this house at all!!!! BAD JuJu!!! As soon as we got home, I called the realtor who was handling our sale and cancelled the Open House. We would wait for the contract to expire, and hope that our home didn’t sell until then.

That evening, I got a call from the ‘husband’…..’Well, hello’. He was calling from Lake Tahoe to assure us that even though he had left, nothing would change and that the deal would all be the same. I told him that his wife was devastated, and that he would have been better off dropping dead than leaving her high and dry, and that he should have at least waited until the process was complete.  Luckily, there was no interest in our house, and the contract did expire. . .and that was the last we ever heard of either one of them.

And so, we move on?

Another house that caught our eye was actually on the street that we now live on. It was a small refurbished farmhouse, with a big, beautiful barn on the property. The house itself was just so small, so small that the bathroom was directly off the dining room. It was remodeled, but not really to our liking, but it was that great barn that had us hooked. Jerry and I went to check it out, and then I decided to take the kids to see the property. So, Todd, Eric, & myself took a ride. I don’t remember if we went in, but we did walk around the property and of course into the massive barn. . .which both guys liked.

When we were ready to leave. we got in the car, and something smelled like shit...’ Check your shoes guys, one of you must have stepped in dog shit’!! They checked, and said nothing was on their shoes. . ‘one of you stepped in shit and it stinks!!!’ I kept at them because the odor was getting worse!! I looked down at my feet, and there, all over my sandal clad feet. . Oozing and gushing up between my toes. . spread all over the floor, and covering the car pedals was a mushy, red, you guessed it...DOG SHIT!!! Lots of it!!! Needless to say, the three of us started to laugh so hard that we literally cried. . .I had to pull over because we were laughing so hard. There was nothing to be done at that point, just hold our breaths and head for home. I don’t know how we got there because this kind of ‘funny’ doesn’t go away very fast!! When we did get home, I jumped out of the car, got the hose and just cleaned my feet and sandals. . .then I had to clean the car...OMG!!! It was so gross!!! And of course the kids were still laughing!

We pass that house all the time now because it’s just a few doors away...and every time, I can’t help but think of the red dog shit!!!!

We had made an appointment to see a house that was just down the street from the small farmhouse. We got there on time and waited for the agent to show up. That never happened, so we decided to take a ride down the street since we really loved this area, (On our first date, Jerry and I took a ride down this street and got lost in the fog...at least that’s what he told me), so you can see why we were drawn here. As we checked out the area, we saw another house for sale. . .our current house. My first thoughts were ‘UGLY!!’, and I really had no interest in seeing the interior.

When we got home, I did call about the house, and was really surprised to learn how large it was.  They called it a split level, so I expected a small stairs off the living room.  We made an appointment.  The front entry had double doors and when I walked into the huge foyer, once again my jaw dropped.  This was not your average split level home.  It was actually a tri-level, with a full staircase to the upstairs. . .not what I had pictured at all. 

Probably the weirdest thing about this house was the basement.  They had closed off half of it and made it into an apartment...an awful apartment.  How anyone lived there is beyond me.  Jerry assured me that it could be reversed.  The yard was beautiful and there was an in-ground pool to boot.  We fell in love with this house. . .it went from ‘UGLY’ to ‘GORGEOUS’ in one fell swoop!

Needless to say, we bought the house.  By this time Todd was already in college, and Eric was ready to start high school, so moving was no problem. 

On the evening before we were to move, we went to the house to take some smaller items.  When we walked into the family room, the owners son and a friend of his were there (he lived in the house). . .the entire room smelled like pot...I guess they were celebrating.

Once we were moved in, Jerry took on the major task of the basement, which was separated into two basements.  He took down the wall in between….and then started to clean...and clean...and clean.

Todd was home from school at one point and helped Jerry.  They found a few very interesting items down there.  Hidden in the rafters was a rifle, and an array of snapshots taken in our yard of a naked woman...OK...into the fireplace they went!!! (Todd wanted to take them back to school with him. . .I don’t think so!)!!  They also found a floor safe that they had to pry open.  In this safe was a bottle, in the bottle was a rolled up small plastic bag, tightly wound with rubber bands...in that was a cigarette pack, also rolled up...in the cigarette pack were a few very large white pills.  Now call me crazy, but I doubt if that’s where they stored their vitamins.  We contemplated having them analyzed, but had no idea what they were and didn’t want to be caught with this unknown substance, so they got flushed...what a lovely housewarming!!!

So, here we are 20 years later. . .in our beautiful remodeled house, with my new gourmet kitchen that Jerry did for me. . .and contemplating if it’s time to move on yet again. 

“So Jerry, what do you think, are you up for another adventure?”

Just Call Me 'Grandma'!!!! ????

Now that I’m finally going to have my first Grandchild, since Eric and Sarah are expecting their first baby in October.. (even saying that gives me chills and makes me want to cry...and I‘ve been on a cloud since I found out)....I started to think about what I want to be called. ‘Grandma’ is probably the easiest, but do I really want to be called ‘Grandma’?


There’s a lot to consider here, since this is what I will always be to all of my Grandchildren.  I was never much of a fan of ‘Nana’, and my apologies to those of you who are called Nana, but it reminds me of ’Nanny’ way too much. I could go the Italian route and choose ‘Nonni’, but that just doesn’t seem like a good fit, maybe because I’m not Italian. Of course, there’s always the Polish version, ‘Babcia’ (pronounced ‘bop-cha’) is Fathers mother, and ‘Busha’ (pronounced ‘boo-sha’) is mothers mother……I guess that would make me Babcia...but that steers me to a black dress and babushka...not exactly where I want to go.

If I were to choose the international ‘grandma’...maybe German, ‘Oma’...or Dutch, ‘Grootmoeder’...or perhaps Spanish, ‘Abuela’ or Portuguese, Avó.  The French Grandma sounds rather beautiful, ‘Grand Mere’...and there’s something nice about Grandma in Slovenia, ‘Babica’.   Oh, I don’t know, “Abuela, play with me…Grootmoeder, read me a story”….. just doesn’t do it for me.

I guess ‘Grandma Kancar’ would work, but that is my husbands Mom to all of us. But, when my boys were little, in order to distinguish their two grandma's, they called my mom, 'Grandma with the Big Hair', and Jerry's mom, 'Smokey's Grandma' (she had a basset hound named Smokey)! Those were names that they chose, and of course as they got older that changed to Grandma Kancar and Grandma Bielat.

What about ‘Grandma K’ or even ‘Grandma Carole’? Now that would be good, except that Sarah’s Mom is also Carol and that could get confusing. She already has two grandsons that call her grandma.

My son Todd’s Mother-in-law told me that when they have children, she wants to be called ‘Mimi’, so that’s out.  There’s always ‘Grand Mother’ or ‘Grand Mummy’...uh, way too formal!!...and I’m not the Queen!!  One version I rather like is ‘Grandmom’ sounds more modern. There's always 'Gram', 'Grams', or even 'Grammy'...way too cutsie for me. What about 'Granny'..yeah, right! That's a bit too 'Beverly Hillbillies'!!!

I've been thinking about this a lot and something that I did come up with that I really like is 'Gia'....I love the sound of it.

Anyway, I have a few months to decide on a perfect fit. Regardless of what I’ll be called, this is a dream come true for me and I’m absolutely thrilled!!!! So for now, just call me ‘Grandma’!!!!!!