Breaking Records

It's too bad the Guinness World Records people were not here in the lake area last week to observe the phenomenon of record breaking in action. I can't help thinking even they would have been impressed. I say this because, for a glorious stretch of eight days, all seven grandkids were here at one time or another--and sometimes all at once. It is an understatement to call it a super-busy time at Googie's.

Because of the Covid-19 pandemic, our summer adventures have a unusual feel and demand a revamped routine. There are no daily trips to kids' enrichment camps or courses at our nearby college. There will be no carnival ride wristbands for the Missouri State Fair. No corn dogs or funnel cakes or snow cones either, and no visit to Otto, the talking patrol car. Virtually every event of our typical summer is cancelled or drastically modified.

And that is okay, because we have the lake. With the exception of baby Packee, the kids are just the right ages to enjoy swimming, tubing, fishing, and all the other activities our lake offers. They can walk along the Osage River down at the harbor and venture out across the swinging bridge toward any of several scenic hiking trails there. Before the summer is over, we hope to have a couple new water skiers in the family.

When four to five children between ages eight and thirteen stay with you day and night for a week, this is when the aforementioned record breaking occurs. Among new records established in our household last week were the following:

• Sheer amount of food consumption
• Number of trips to Walmart grocery pickup
• Rolls of toilet paper used
• Number of consecutive late nights spent watching Perry Mason
• Number of consecutive nights Googie sang "Little White Duck" at bedtime (Will I still be doing this when all of them are teenagers?)
• Number of wet towels on the floor of the laundry room
• Loads of laundry washed, dried, and folded
• Number of (very) ripe bananas converted into banana bread in a single evening.

Aided by the uncertainties and negative effects posed by the virus, I seem to have set a couple records of my own. For instance, this is my first post in "Googie's Attic" since March 25, nearly four months ago. That is my longest dry spell since I began the blog in March 2011. Most unforgivable, however, is the fact that Zoomie's eighth and Sooby's thirteenth birthdays scooted by on June 25 and 30 with no acknowledgment. Pa-pa and I were at their house for the celebrations, but I just didn't get around to recording them here. I will do my best to make up for that here and how. 

Thirteen, Sooby? How can that be? When I started the blog nine years ago, you were only four. At some point between then and now, you grew into a young lady who plays piano and cello, loves to bake, and is among seventeen finalists qualifying for the Kansas state champion spelling bee next weekend. You are an artistic and creative force to be reckoned with, Sooby, and whatever form eighth grade takes for you this fall, Pa-pa and I are sure you will rock it.

And you, Zoomie. You held the spot as the youngest kid in your family for over seven years, but you have relinquished that position with grace and (most of the time) maturity. You are old enough to entertain us with your jokes and antics, but not too old (yet) to give us some good snuggles. You have mastered the task of dealing with your allergies to dairy and tree nuts like a trooper, accepting that your brothers and sisters can sometimes have treats that you can't. Pa-pa and I can't wait to see what new things you learn in third grade.

Here you are about to open the present you asked me for several months ago. You may be the only eight-year-old in the Midwest to have his own . . . poker set. I imagine that you and your brother Pooh will be practicing the techniques needed to hold 'em, fold 'em, and do a fair amount of bluffing in the process.

As this record-breaking summer of 2020 continues to challenge us at every turn, I am reminded constantly that the closeness of our family makes it bearable. I have only to look at seven little faces to know that, in spite of it all, I am truly blessed.   

  

 

 

The Heliball

If I hadn't taken Pa-pa to Target with me to shop for a birthday present for Beenie, I might never have met the heliball. While I was perusing an adjoining aisle for durable boy toys like skateboards and such, Pa-pa spotted the heliball and pushed the button to start a demonstration video located near the display on the toy shelf.

"Come over here and look at this," he said. "This looks like fun."

Looking dubiously at the heliball in its package, I was not initially impressed. It appeared to be a small, fragile-looking hard plastic sphere, about the size of a baseball and topped with paper-thin plastic propellers. But at the same time, I was kind of fascinated by what I saw. So, wrestling down my better judgment, we made the purchase and headed home to try it. I wanted to have it figured out so that I could show Beenie how to work it.

The heliball, I learned, is an LED-lit ball that takes off into the air once it is fully charged and the "on" switch on the bottom is flipped. Equipped with sensors on top and bottom, it whirs around the room as the operator tries to control its movement with a hand just above or below it, or a foot just underneath. The sensors steer it in the opposite direction, saving it from crashing. Usually.

One of the first things I learned was to hold the heliball vertically straight with your fingers around it rather with your hand cupped on the bottom. If you don't, the bottom sensor will be confused, and the heliball will take off erratically and in a way that is impossible to control. As a result, it will crash, and that can be hard on its flimsy little propellers. Here, Beenie demonstrates the WRONG way to hold the heliball as you flip the "on" switch and prepare to release it.

If you hold the heliball correctly for takeoff, it will spin off into the air around you, where you can exercise the proper controls. Here, Beenie waves a hand underneath to keep the ball from going lower.

While the heliball is flying, watch carefully and follow it closely so that you can keep it in safe flying territory if possible.

The heliball will come down if it goes high enough for the top sensor to recognize the ceiling. But if your ceiling is extremely high, it is better to keep the ball in a position where you can get a hand above or below as needed.

If the heliball moves away from you, follow it so that you can be right on the scene if it decides to take a detour.

After a reasonable flight, both you and the heliball will be ready for a break. Catching it while in flight takes a little practice. Here, Beenie gets in position to make the catch.

Catch the heliball by gripping it with one hand as you would if you were preparing to unscrew a light bulb. Here, Beenie makes a perfect catch.

He is now ready to put the heliball back on its charger for a while. You can figure on five to seven minutes of play for every twenty or so minutes on the charger.

I honestly don't know if it was Beenie or I who had the most fun with the heliball, but it turned out to be a great addition to his eighth birthday celebration, In fact, the heliball is recommended for children eight years old and above, although Heero, who is six, had a couple pretty good flights with it, too.

It is better to turn a kid loose with the heliball after some explanation and demonstration. This keeps the kid from getting frustrated and the heliball from meeting an untimely demise, which I imagine sometimes happens.

The enclosed instructions explain a way to actually control the heliball with a TV remote, like some kind of colorful little living room drone. We didn't try this ourselves; that is for the more electronically capable than I. But Beenie, Pa-pa and I recommend the heliball if you need a creative gift idea that is just a little out of the ordinary for a kid who is quite extraordinary himself.

Sabotaged by a Monster

When baby Packee was born last fall, I had such plans.  I was going to be there for all those monthly baby milestones--the turning over, the giggling, the sitting up. I was going to see him often and use him as an excuse to spend more time with his brothers and sisters as well.

Packee arrived after a six-year lull in grandkid production. Since he might be the last one, I was going to pinch those fat thighs to my heart's content and once more perform my entire repertoire of silly noises. I would kiss those chubby cheeks and feel the sweet weight of that little head on my shoulder while he slept.

The first four months of my plan went by the playbook. But when I waved goodbye to him on Feb. 1, who would have dreamed it would be months before I would see him again? Worse yet, I don't know how many of these precious months this long wait will stretch out to consume. The monster COVID-19 has changed not only plans but normal daily routine.

That is all the whining I am going to do. I look around and see others affected so much more adversely than is this old lady who just wants to snuggle a grandbaby. Thousands of people are sick, and medical responders are caught up in a rat race. High school seniors are missing those last spring activities, and even graduation ceremonies look uncertain. Weddings and funerals, the rituals of life itself, are on hold. Senior adults in care facilities can't see their families. For many, this pandemic is so much more than a mere inconvenience.

But today, in the midst of all of this, I celebrate the day Packee turns six months old. The highlight of my day is when my daughter texts me pictures like these:

  

I like to think that, in this last one, the reason Packee looks so serious is because he is wondering where his Googie is. Thankfully, he is too little to know about monsters.

I am here, sweet baby, just waiting for the monster to relent so I can come see you again. Until then, stay healthy,  practice your skills of self defense, and warn your brothers and sisters. There are a lot of pent-up squeezes around here just waiting to be released.

Beenie's Birthday Puzzles

Question: What does the Rubik's Cube have in common with the coronavirus?

Answer: They have both been major shaping forces in the celebration of Beenie's birthday.

At first glance, this photo might look like any typical boy getting ready to blow out eight candles atop the red velvet cake his mama made (at his request).

But a closer look at the circumstances surrounding Beenie's eighth birthday reveals more unusual goings-on than meet the eye.

In recent weeks Beenie has been obsessed with the Rubik's Cube, to the point that YouTube videos showing solutions to the famous puzzle top his list of TV-watching preferences. He works patiently and relentlessly to figure out the standard 3 x 3 cube he already has, and has achieved solid color on two sides. His birthday brought him an assortment of other Rubik's-style puzzles, including a 2 x 2 and a triangular variation. The t-shirt Pa-pa and I contributed to his birthday stash says it all: "I make it look easy."

 
Interestingly, the Rubik's Cube is anything but easy. George Webster, writing for CNN in "The Little Cube That Changed the World," asserts that the various turns and twists of the puzzle offer 43 quintillion possible combinations. As a non-math person, I had to look up the term "quintillion." It is a thousand raised to the power of six, times ten to the eighteenth power. Now you know.

Even Erno Rubik, the puzzle's Hungarian inventor, took a month trying to figure out the solution after he concocted the rotating Cube from rubber bands and wood blocks. Intending it solely as a visual aid for his students in interior design, he never meant to create what some call the most popular toy in the world, selling more than 350 million since it was first mass-marketed in the early 1980's.

That was over forty years ago, before Pa-pa and I were even married. We celebrated our thirty-ninth anniversary on March 20, which is also Beenie's birthday. And, unlike most of his and his brother Heero's past birthday celebrations, this one was very small, consisting of only his immediate family and two sets of grandparents. No bounce house. No trip to Chuck E. Cheese. No lively gathering of fellow second-graders.

This is because Beenie's eighth birthday fell victim to the coronavirus and its current restrictions on large-group gatherings. As the number of positive cases continues to escalate daily, the virus is proving to be a puzzle of sorts itself. The countries of the world, like cubes of wood on a common axis, restructure data daily, turning and twisting to try to solve the puzzle the coronavirus imposes. We walk here on new ground. The game plan changes things.

Beenie and the other six grandkids remain insulated from the effects, implications, and what-ifs associated with the coronavirus pandemic of 2020. They are as safe as possible in the homes of caring parents who look out for their health, happiness, and safe-keeping. I am thankful beyond measure for these families, and I look forward to the day we are all together again with this outbreak behind us.

Until then, Beenie Boy, keep working at that Cube. Watch those experts, especially that guy with the record of 3.47 seconds. You might grow up to invent something spectacular or solve some bigger puzzle. Our world will always need people like you.
 

02-02-2020

Look at those numerals. Those eight digits, made entirely of 2's and 0's, form a palindrome reading the same forward and backward. How unusual is that? How fortuitous? How can a date like that bring anything other than memorable and amazing things?

It can't.

Last Sunday was destined for greatness in at least three ways, which I enumerate here from least to most important:

1. Punxsutawney Phil, the weather-predicting groundhog, did not see his shadow this year, thus predicting an early spring. On the typical 02-02, this hairy little meteorologist from Pennsylvania shows no sympathy for those of us suffering the usual icy, snowy Midwest winter. For whatever reason, he took pity on us and, if he did see his shadow, he had the decency to keep it to himself.

This is good news for people in our neck of the woods. We are tired of fighting cold winds, treacherous driving conditions, and unpredictable event cancellations. However, the temps last Sunday hovered around an unseasonable 70 degrees, giving us a big enough taste of spring to get us really excited.

2. The Kansas City Chiefs won the Super Bowl for the first time in fifty years. This is a big thing to Missourians, with the excitement multiplying logarithmically the closer you get to Kansas City. The game four nights ago capped off a season plagued by injuries and a post-season of dramatic comebacks. Super Bowl LIV itself brought a nail-biter which saw quarterback sensation Patrick Mahomes and company work their magic in the game's final six minutes to convert a 20-10 deficit to a 31-20 win.

3. Pooh celebrated his eleventh birthday, which he observed in grand style beginning with a visit from Pa-pa and me Thursday through Saturday. We took along a Chiefs AFC West Division Champ shirt for him and a dozen cupcakes with Chiefs decorations.

On Saturday he had a football-themed party with his friends, and on Sunday we traded text messages and photos as the big game came down to the wire. In our family, we will always remember that Pooh turned eleven years old on the day the Chiefs won the Super Bowl--02-02-2020. Pooh loves sports, especially football, so this makes both events extra special.

Over the past few days my Facebook "memories" have been popping up with pictures of Pooh on some of his previous birthdays. There was the one from ten years ago where he was sitting in his high chair with his face covered in chocolate icing. In another ten years, he will be a grown man of twenty-one. This is scary.

Years ago, I could never have imagined life with seven grandchildren. Now, I can't imagine it without them. Birthdays always seem to bring reflections on how fast the kids are growing up and how time is getting away.

But enough of that. Spring is coming, the Chiefs are champs, and Pooh has reached the fun age of eleven. It is a happy time for us, and this boy is a huge reason for that. 

Catching Up

As a kid growing up, I often heard adults around me talking about how "time flies." I couldn't imagine how they could think such a thing, when, clearly, an eternity seemed to stretch from Christmas to Christmas and from one of my birthdays to the next.

Now, however, I understand too well what they meant. Thanksgiving has already come and gone, baby Packee has made his first visit to Googie's house, and tomorrow I will turn the calendar to December. That will give me a frantic twenty-four days to finish shopping, wrap, send cards, and throw a tree into the corner of the living room. How did I ever have time to work? I remember the older adults of my childhood saying that, too.

Situated as I am here on the short track to Christmas, I can't see how in the world I will have the time to store away all the unrecorded "treasures" of the last several months here in "Googie's Attic." Yet, because these events are all momentous in their own ways, they merit at least a cursory mention to secure their place in this record the kids and I will want to look back at someday.

I have often noticed how newspapers, at year's end, will go back to review their top stories of the year. So, taking a cue from them, I am looking back over the past three months to consider several topics that I fully intended to write posts about but, for various reasons, didn't get to. Though each of them deserves its own spotlight, they will have to share the stage this time. So here is a little "collection," of sorts, that I wish to relegate to at least this small corner of Googie's attic.

Aunt Julie comes back. In August, Pa-pa and I were surprised and delighted when Julie, our AFS daughter from three years ago, made an impromptu two-week visit to the States. Of course, high on her list of priorities was a visit to Sooby, Bootsie, Zoomie (in front), and Pooh in Kansas. She even brought a little stuffed bunny, named "Miffy," for baby Packee, whose arrival was still a month away. She also brought us loads of stroopwafels and Dutch candy. Pa-pa and I look forward to traveling to the Netherlands in the spring to visit Julie and her family there.

Green Machine wins Zombie soccer tournament. In late October son Teebo (back left) entered this team of future soccer pros in tourney play at the end of a season that saw them go undefeated. True to form, they dribbled and shot their way through the tournament, winning all four of their post-season games and maintaining their perfect record. Both Heero (far left) and Beenie (second from right) played their hearts out and contributed goals to the team effort. Pa-pa and I didn't miss one exciting moment of tournament play, and we look forward to more Green Machine action next fall.

Moose, saucy wench, pioneer girl, and storm trooper rock Halloween night. Pa-pa and I made a quick overnight stay in Kansas Halloween night as these four candy-mongers took to the streets of Maple Hill. Next year, they may not be able to cover quite so much ground with little Packee toddling alongside. Hopefully, we will get to see him on his first trick-or-treating excursion and find out whether or not he has inherited the family penchant for chocolate.

Googie's "kiddie bus" gets totaled. No, November did not start out well, and I normally would not give such a disappointing event space in our "Attic." But over the past four years all six grandkids and I have traveled so many miles together that our gold van was like our good friend. There was nothing like tooling around with all of them in tow and giggling at the overhead antics of SpongeBob, the Ninja Turtles, Elmo's Potty Time, and the like.

I am thankful beyond words that none of them were with me the day I happened to be in an intersection when another driver ran through a red light. Despite the painful bumps and bruises and the seemingly  hopeless tangle of insurance issues, I know that I am very lucky that the outcome, whatever it may be, will not be as bad as it could have been.

Great-grandma Susie celebrates her ninety-fifth birthday. Just before Thanksgiving, my mom turned ninety-five. She is an integral factor in our family dynamic, and it has been a privilege to watch her enjoy her great-grandchildren (she has nine) and to see her develop a relationship with all of them. They will be quick to tell you that she bakes good cookies and sews pretty quilts.

So--that wasn't exactly a New Year's Eve countdown or anything, but you can see that some big events have affected our lives over the past several months. They are things that have made us laugh, cheer, feel sorrowful, and rejoice. This period of our lives is a microcosm of the whole of life itself, and, hopefully, you can see why I thought it needed to be remembered.

Looking at my calendar, I am afraid I may not make it back to the blog until after New Year's. But I'm sure there will be holiday stories to tell then and photos to share. For the moment, I feel reasonably "caught up." But in only a few short hours I will have to turn over the calendar page, and once again--already--December and I will step up to the starting line and the race will be on.

Heero's Knock-Out Party

There is just something special about turning six. In Heero's case, the past year marks his transformation from a little boy reluctant to climb ladders and sleep in the dark into a regular kid who swings a bat, dribbles a soccer ball, shoots hoops, and rocks kindergarten.

A short six months ago Pa-pa and I were attending his preschool graduation. It was during that ceremony that I got the first inkling of Heero's future plans. We listened as we heard from children who aspired to be police officers, fire fighters, and all the career positions you might expect from a group of four- and five-year-olds. Then, toward the end of the program, we heard our sixth grandchild tell the world what he wants to be when he grows up. Apparently, Heero wants to be . . . a boxer.

I thought of Muhammed Ali. I thought of Rocky Balboa. I imagined that sweet little boy standing up there on the stage sporting a designer mouth guard and wiping blood off his face with his forearm. In my mind I watched him dance around the ring, delivering his own well-placed punches while dodging those of his opponent. And, of course, since he is my grandson, I imagined the referee counting to ten, declaring the opponent OUT, and raising Heero's sweaty little arm up in victory amid the deafening cheers of an arena full of devoted fans.

So when his sixth birthday rolled around this past week, I could see my mission clearly. I must do my part to help this boy realize his career dream. Yes, this was a no-brainer. I must buy him boxing gloves. A tip from his mama clued me in on the color red. Even the casual observer will admit that he already looks the part.

The party where Heero acquired his gloves was a knock-out in its own right, building on a LEGO theme. There were LEGO favors for all his friends and cousins, as he models below.

Other prize-winning aspects of the party included a pinata shaped like the Number 6, a LEGO version of the Twister game, and a magic show performed by the birthday boy himself.

Rounding out the fun, in addition to all the candy treasures that flew out of the pinata, were pizza and, of course, the obligatory cake.

To cap off Heero's birthday week, I got to be his guest at his first school Grandparent's Day, where we wove a yarn spider web, combined our artistic efforts to "Draw a Grandma," and picked out two books for him at the school's book fair. (It is good, I suppose, that we are encouraging reading and other skills as a back-up plan just in case the boxing thing doesn't work out.)

And so, I close with a birthday wish for this amazing all-grown-up boy who, until just six weeks ago, was my youngest grandchild: I have loved every moment of my time with you this week. You seemed to jump into this world landing on both feet and have kept things interesting ever since. I hope you are always this ready to embrace new adventures and punch through any obstacles that try to get in your way. It won't be possible to win every fight that comes along, but I will always be among your biggest fans and you will always be Heero to me.