I watch Jim Cramer whenever I can and I listen to him. I do not buy stocks based on his recommendations BUT I listen to his advice. I am a teacher, like him. He tells us to get kids interested in stocks at an early age. And the way to do it is by asking them what products they know and like. Well, after a sloppy explanation of what a stock is, and even I cannot wrap my head around what a stock actually is, I asked my grandson if he would be interested in the Walt Disney Company. He said he did not like Frozen, so he would pass on that hypothetical stock. But then he said he would like Netflix. Now why didn’t I ask him 2 years ago, when Netflix was still affordable? Then he thought: What about a company that makes…you guessed it: CHOCOLATE?
My grandson is learning about Wayne Thiebaud IN KINDERGARTEN! I found an exhibit of Wayne Thiebaud’s work at the Morgan Museum at the Morgan Library so I took my grandson in to the city to see the originals. Of course we had to head to the cafe after going through the exhibit twice, and of course , we had to eat dessert first! My grandson got the milkshake complete with whipped cream and I ordered the sorbet.
IF the Morgan Library was less stuffy, they might have considered calling their desserts the Wayne Thiebaud specials. That would have lightened the mood and connected the cafe to the exhibit.
They also had a Medieval Monsters exhibit, that unfortunately was closed to the public when we happened to be there. Wouldn’t a Medieval Monster Costume Ball in the cafe be a fun thing to offer? Wouldn’t that lighten the mood, make the museum more inviting and fun? In fact, the Medieval Monsters remind me of Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are. Wouldn’t that have been a blast to have his illustrations on exhibit at the same time?
My book is light enough to read on a plane or at the beach but hits on every concern you have about aging – with humor and self reflection, you don’t have to age alone. AGE WITH ME!
I have come to the conclusion that there is a narcissist inside each and every one of us. My granddaughter— well, she looks like me. Even though she has her dad’s nose and his mother’s round face, she looks like me. Even though she is built a little chunky and she has sturdy legs and feet, and I have thin legs and high arches, she looks like me. She does not have my blue eyes. But she has my hair. Her hair is curly and wavy. It has a wildness to it. It needs work. But after a bit of detangler and after someone runs a comb through it, and after someone twists a little piece and puts a ribbon in, she is striking.
She has my look, my expressions, my feistiness. She is charming and likes to laugh. She likes to make others laugh. She is engaging and she can hold a conversation.
I had plucked a wild chin hair and it left a mark. June noticed it when I was changing her diaper.
“What’s that boo-boo?” she asked with sweet compassion. She reached up and gently pulled my face down and said:
“I want to kiss that boo-boo.” And she did.
Then she squirmed off the bed with an intent look on her face. She has something to do and somewhere she has to be. She is two and a half.
Dare to cross her, and she will give you a piece of her mind. On occasion, she is knows to scream:
“Get out of here! I didn’t ask for YOU!”
I cannot help it.
“Give me back my face,” I say mildly amused. She laughs and pretends to rip her face off and put it on my head.
“Give me back my hair,” I continue in awe that my looks and possibly my personality skipped a generation. She is undeniably a part of me. She pretends to pull her hair out and puts it on me. But in a split second she takes back both her face and her hair.
I look at her and I see a little me. And I can’t help but be a little narcissistic and ever so proud!
My not quite-three-year-old granddaughter wanted her mother, my daughter, to read her a book, but my daughter was busy with my grandson. “Ask Grandma to read to you,” suggested my daughter. My granddaughter put her hands on her hip, opened her mouth and in a very Queens accent, said: “I don’t want FAKE mommy. I want my REAL momma!”
I got to sit in Johanna Hurwitz’s study and chat with her for almost two hours. Johanna Hurwitz, author of CLASS CLOWN, ALI BABA BERNSTEIN, ALDO APPLESAUCE AND MORE THAN 70 OTHER BOOKS, is my hero. This invite came via mutual friends who read my book. I had taken a workshop with Johanna years ago.
Anyway, my daughter sent the principal of my grandson’s school Johanna’s proposal. I am praying that Johanna Hurwitz, who is one of my daughter’s beloved authors, and is now my grandson’s and granddaughter’s beloved author, will be a guest speaker at my my grandson’s school. I will post when this will actually happen.
IF YOU HAVE GRANDKIDS, GO TO AMAZON.COM AND PURCHASE HER BOOKS AS GIFTS. YOUR OWN KIDS WILL THANK YOU FOR REMINDING THEM OF SOME OF THEIR CHILDHOOD FAVORITES.