For the first time in forever (forty years) we didn’t spend Easter at home. Retirement gave us the freedom to travel to Dallas, Texas, to spend Holy Week and Easter Sunday with my son and his family.
Flights were expensive so we did the two day drive. After a longish first day and an easy second day, our four Texas grandchildren were waiting for us at the curb on Wednesday afternoon. It’s only been three months since we last saw them after Christmas, but they’ve grown so much!
Our Airbnb this time was a nice little townhome just five minutes away. We only need a comfortable place to sleep since we spend most of our time with family – and this week, at worship.
What a treat to worship at the church where my son has been pastor for over ten years. The sermons, special music, family, and people we’ve gotten to know there made Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter sunrise and Easter morning worship a joy. My son preached for the service of darkness on Friday and at sunrise on Sunday morning.
Flanked by singing, drawing, coloring, snacking, praying, and wiggling grandchildren, each worship occasion was especially meaningful. How I loved sharing the somberness of Good Friday and the joy of Easter morning with them!
In between worship, we made small resurrection gardens, visited the Fort Worth zoo, played lots of Lego, and ended the weekend with supper at our favorite Mexican place.
Easter on the road with family was especially good for our souls this year.
I believe my grandchildren ask themselves this question every time they come to our house. From the minute they walk in the door they are foraging for snacks. Immediately before and after supper, they stand and look in the pantry or refrigerator in search of a snack.
“Can I have a cheese stick?” Cheese sticks have always been a popular snack at our house. But you better have the right ones. If I offer them cheddar, they will want mozzarella. And vice-versa. The swirly combination cheese sticks are usually a safe bet.
In different seasons of life they have preferred different snacks. Mini Oreo cookies were popular for a while. Sometimes they wanted chocolate, other times vanilla. One granddaughter would eat the cream centers and leave the cookie shells behind.
Trail mix is another popular snack. It’s not as healthy as it sounds, since their version of trail mix was mini marshmallows, chocolate chips, and Craisins. Of course, they would eat the marshmallows and chocolate, and leave the dried fruit behind.
Fortunately, the grandchildren all liked fruit. They often choose an orange, apple, or banana. Apples used to be a good grab and go, but now it has to be peeled and sliced up for them. If the kids find out we have strawberries, they will consume them in a sitting.
Chewy fruit snacks have always been popular, too. The word fruit justifies eating a little bag full of sugar.
Me? More than anything else, I reach for nuts. Cashews, peanuts, or mixed nuts are often my snack of choice, especially in the evening watching television. During the day, apples and oranges are the first thing I see when I open the refrigerator, and I might reach for one of them. A few Christmas cookies are still calling my name from the garage freezer, and it’s only fair that I indulge them as well, right?
“Did you look in the back bedroom closet? What about up in the attic?”
“I looked everywhere I can think of. Are you sure we didn’t give them away?”
We were cleaning and sorting the grandkids’ toys on the back porch. Somehow, a little bit of everything ends up everywhere. A plastic hotdog is in with the dinosaurs. A plastic dinosaur is in the Candyland box. Pokemon characters are tucked into every nook and cranny. Parts of the play ice cream cones are out and around.
When we got it all arranged – Legos, puzzles, games, dinosaurs, play food, Pokemon and Minecraft figures, cars, dolls, hundreds of Minnie’s Bow-tique pieces, and Magnatiles, I wondered, “Where are the Tinkertoys?”
We had purchased a used box of Tinkertoys on eBay a few years ago. While our childhood Tinkertoys were wooden, the contemporary edition is plastic. They are made of the kind of plastic that dogs love to chew on, so we try to keep them in the box and out of reach.
Tinkertoys are as much fun as ever. We’ve built long fishing poles, robots, swords and light sabres, telescopes, windmills, monsters, cars, shark cages, and rocket ships. The possibilities are endless. We don’t play with them every time the grandkids are with us, but often enough that we wouldn’t get rid of them.
I looked everywhere. Under beds. In closets. I went through all the bins in the attic twice. In drawers. In the back of the toy cabinet.
Nothing. They had somehow disappeared.
What did we do? We bought more. We found another set on eBay and in a few days we were back in business. All was right in our toy world again.
Before we left for a birthday party yesterday, I loaded a bunch of tables and folding chairs into the back of our car. As I grabbed the last two folding chairs from the back of the back bedroom closet, something caught my eye. I went back and saw them. “There they are!” The Tinkertoys. Right where we had left them at some time in the past.
For a guy who is good at finding lost things, this was a rush. And best of all, we have even more Tinkertoys than ever! (Guess who else likes to play with Tinkertoys?)
I thoroughly enjoy every time we get to have some of our grandchildren for an overnight. I never had the chance to sleepover at a grandparent’s. I just didn’t get to spend much time with them or know them very well. But I get to see some of my nine grandchildren at least once a week.
This past Saturday, two of my grandsons (ages 8 and 5) stayed with us while their parents celebrated their anniversary. I think it’s interesting how we spent our time together.
First, we played a lot of basketball. On the way home from picking them up, we stopped at a craft fair not too far from our home. Not much for kids except for food. I was pretty excited about an outer perimeter of food trucks. Tacos, BBQ, fries, cajun, hoagies, kettle corn – and Chick-fil-A. Guess what they chose? Yep, chicken, waffle chips and Powerade from the Chick-fil-A trailer. (I got a 6″ hoagie. And I know what a “hoagie” is since I grew up in Philadelphia.)
When we got back home, it was basketball. I have a moveable hoop to set up in the driveway. The older guy has a season of rec league behind him, so he’s a pretty good shooter. The younger had to work hard to get an lighter ball through the hoop I set at eight foot. But they were out there for a couple of hours.
After that, snack time. Apples, Taki, and goldfish crackers tided them over until supper time. You’ll notice that food plays a major role in their lives at home and away. Don’t worry, they burn off all the calories.
After snack number whatever, I showed them a cool motorized engine we bought for our wooden train set. I helped them build a couple of loops and they sent long lines of cars around and around the inner, outer, and middle loops.
“Can we go outside?” Of course! Guess what kept them busy for the next hour? Pine needles. Our yard, flanked by two wooded lots, is full of them. The two boys spent the next hour raking and gathering pine needles to fill up the play fort and bury the younger grandson. My yard? Raked and looking nice!
Supper time! As I made my always delicious homemade pizza, they snacked on apple slices, Taki, grapes, and goldfish crackers. I was lucky to get a couple of slices of pizza. They doused their slices in red pepper flakes, Italian salad dressing, parmesan cheese, and ranch dressing. Yum.
Once that was gone, we got ready for the pre-bedtime movie. I gave the younger one a quick bubble bath and the older decided on thje 2018 edition of “The Grinch.” As soon as we started the movie, I heard fervent pleas for “popcorn.” Okay. I microwaved a large bowl for each, and we laughed through the movie.
Once the movie was over, we brushed teeth and fought over who would sleep in the top bunk. Younger had it last time, so it was Older’s turn. After brushing teeth, the two yawned through the Lord’s Prayer, and it was lights out (with a sound machine).
Whew. We were exhausted. And it was only 8 pm! These two grandsons only have two speeds: 100% or fast asleep. My wife and I knew we better turn in early. Before you know it, the sun would be up and they would be awake!
It wasn’t a game for these two. My five-year-old grandson and nearly five-year-old granddaughter took my Thanksgiving scavenger hunt seriously. With the picture list in hand, they were focused on the quest. No item would be left unfound.
This year’s scavenger hunt pictures
I started the scavenger hunt a few family gatherings ago to keep the kids busy while the grownups talked and ate appetizers before supper. (We celebrated our Thanksgiving the Sunday before this year, so that all the families could be with their other families.) These two grandchildren are still “pre-readers,” with a few sight words in their quiver. So I make a page of pictures of things to find in our home.
I originally set up the scavenger hunt for all four grandchildren who would be present, but the two-year-old and the eight-year-old weren’t interested. I collected four of everything on the page and “hid” them at preschool eye-level in our living room. I painted the yellow happy face rocks and folded the paper boats. Everything else was off the shelf in our home. A few things were in drawers, but the rest were in plain sight. I warned my wife ahead of time: “If you see anything unusual lying around the house, it’s for the scavenger hunt.”
Interestingly, they began by opening side table drawers and various cabinets. They quickly found a few that way. I had to give them some hints for the others. “Look by the television.” “Check by the front door.” “Did you look up high and down low?” “Oh, look, over there by the window – what’s that?”
The hunt kept them busy for a full fifteen minutes, which is a lot of time for a preschooler. They worked like a team on a mission. And were they ever proud when the found the twelfth item! They put many of their finds in the nine-ounce plastic cup, gathering up the extra quarters no one else wanted, and planned to take them home.
I also put together a clue-driven treasure hunt the eight-year-old. Each clue sent him in search of the next, hidden in a different place in the house. I thought I my clues were clever, but he reported, “It was easy.” Okay. Next time, we level up.
I think I have more fun preparing the scavenger hunt than the grandkids who take on the challenge! It’s a classic win-win. Keeps us all busy for a while.
My time with my son and family wasn’t all work. Their mom and dad took advantage of my presence to run a few errands, usually in the afternoon during nap/quiet time. Not everyone slept nor were they quiet, but no one forgot what come next.
Snack time.
I love being there for snack time. I love to serve them up and consume them myself. I watched carefully when my brother and his wife brought out the snacks. Lay out a snack charcuterie and let them nibble on what they’re most into at that moment.
It’s a good strategy. Fruit, cut up veggies, pretzels, cheese are popular. So much so the three of them consumed all of it. Every crumb.
I wasn’t done yet though. When I was rifling through the pantry, I happened upon the remaining stash of Easter candy. Jackpot. Everyone also had a couple little candy with the condition they didn’t need to mention it to their parents.
These grandchildren eat their sweets slowly and thoughtfully. Small, carefully planned bites. Fingers licked clean. Wrappers inspected for crumbs.
No matter how happy or sad, busy or bored, running or relaxing, the phrase guaranteed to get everyone’s attention is, “Do you want a snack?”
I went to watch my seven-year-old grandson’s baseball game last night. After two seasons of T-ball, he had advanced to a machine-pitch league. His team lost this game, but the coach awarded him the game ball for his efforts!
Watching this game made me think about my own youth baseball experience. I never played in an organized league while growing up. But on my block alone, I had enough friends my age to field two teams to play either on the street or the “ball field.”
The street game required little equipment. We played with a pink rubber ball and a bat. Bases were manhole covers, car bumpers, and sewer drains. We hit single-bounce pitches. The game’s added challenges included traffic, homes on each side of the street, and the unforgiving asphalt surface. When we could only round up eight or nine kids, this was the game we played.
When we had fifteen or more, we played at the ball field, a quick bike ride to a huge vacant lot behind the development where my family moved when I was eight years old. For this game we had gloves, baseballs, and wooden bats. Bases were flat rocks or pieces of wood we found lying around. We used pitchers, but no one threw very hard, so there were hardly any strikeouts. We played a lot of games, especially throughout the summer.
The challenges of this game included a pretty rough field surface. You had to have very quick reactions when ball bounced off holes and rocks in the dirt and grass that wasn’t cut very often. A foul ball into the woods might mean the end of the game if we couldn’t find it. Every once in a while, someone would tag one and it would reach one of the bordering homes. I don’t think we ever caught a window, but we bounced a few off the roof. A few of my friends were pretty good. Only one of them played Little League, beyond the means of most of our families.
It was a good place to hone some skills. Enough that I could later play some college intramural and later, church league softball. I also remember the names of most of the kids and adults I played with. Baseball was really good for developing friendships. Plus, once you’ve played, baseball is much more entertaining to watch, from the major leagues to a local machine-pitch rec league.
My four-year-old grandson and I have a new craft for those days he spends with us: rock painting.
We got the idea when we purchased a cheap rock painting kit at Hobby Lobby. The kit came with a bunch of rocks, but hardly any paint, and one lousy brush. There is no way we could paint rocks to look like the ones on the box. But we wanted to.
So I got to work. We had a nice assortment of craft paint brushes here at home. We had some paint mixing trays, too. I ordered a rainbow selection of craft acrylic paints on Amazon. I went to Hobby Lobby and found 40% off bags of rocks. I bought two bags (about a dozen rocks each) for $4. Now we’re ready to do this right.
I spread out the plastic craft tablecloth on the dining room table and we got to work. We used every single color to paint every single rock. We used a different brush for each color, and when they all had paint on them, I rinsed them out and we got back to work. He did mostly solid colors. I painted a few rocks al one color, and when they dried, added a sea creature. That’s what we originally wanted to do. I painted a sea turtle, a jellyfish, an angel fish, a flamingo, and a dolphin.
The next week, his older brother got involved and we painted rainbows and Roblox characters (Barry the Prison Guard and Papa Pizza). We didn’t have to buy more rocks. You can paint them over and over again.
So what is so fascinating and satisfying about painting rocks? For a while it was a very popular medium. Our public library has a rock garden out front where you can leave or paint rocks. A rock is a small enough canvas that it doesn’t take long to finish a project. It dries quickly and you can just stick it in your pocket to take home. For a preschooler, it’s all about quantity, not quality. Rocks are cheap and you and put a whole lot of paint on a whole bunch of rocks in a short amount of time.
We store up all our rocks in used egg cartons. They are ready to go the next time we are inspired to paint!
My two year old granddaughter bend down to pick up a small twig, adding it to a fistful she would add to the fire pit at our campsite.
As we wandered down the path, past trailers, fifth-wheels, RVs, and a few tents, we happened by a guy sitting on a stump, playing a banjo. Nothing recognizable, but his notes that made us stop and watch and listen for a moment.
He nodded, smiled, and asked, “Is that your daughter or granddaughter?”
I chuckled. “Granddaughter.”
“You never know. My brother’s sixty-three; he and his girl just had a baby.”
I chuckled again. (I’m sixty-three.) I wondered out loud, “Can you imagine starting out at that age?”
This time, he shook his head, smiled and said, “Y’all enjoy.”
“There’s one.” She grabbed it and we headed back to our campsite. Almost time to kindle our fire.
Waite for it... 