Monday, September 3, 2012
Picher Perfect: Raising Grandma
Picher Perfect: Raising Grandma: Those of you who know me, know how much I love to write. Those of you who know me well, know how hard it is for me to make myself do so. I...
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Raising Grandma
Those of you who know me, know how much I love to write. Those of you who know me well, know how hard it is for me to make myself do so. It's not that I dread it or don't think that I will have anything to say. It's just that, sometimes, my days fly by and before I know it, it's gone. Not that I can pinpoint what took it up all those hours, it's just done and no writing has taken place.
So, please take this as an explanation as to the major length of time that has elapsed between this blog and the last one I wrote, which incidentally, just happened to be about my dear Grandma Rosie and what she meant to me, how she helped me become the person that I am today, and how I hope to be as good a grandmother to my grandchildren as she was to me. (And, as easy as it sounds, it proves daily to be harder than it seems!)
This past week, I had the opportunity to keep two of my grandchildren while their mother was out of town for several days. Her trip happened to coincide with the starting of school for these two wonder kids and added, yet, another dimension to the learning curve for this grandma.
Now, let me begin by saying that it's been a long, long time since I traversed the intricacies of the school drop off/pick up maneuver and, admittedly, my first attempt in this millennium was not all that successful or without challenges. In my defense though, the only instructions I received concerning this very important part of the educational process prior to my first assignment were to "just follow the car in front of you and do what they do."
Seemed simple enough. So, after arriving at school a few minutes early on that very first day and noticing other parents parked on the south side of the circle drive, I snagged the next available slot in line. I then focused most of my attention on the car directly ahead of me. The rest of my attention was focused on what I deemed to be "the pickup portico"where my beautiful six year old granddaughter and her teacher (a lovely woman whom I had met the night before at the "complete the paperwork/school supply drop off" event) were suppose to meet up with me.
Unfortunately, it wasn't long until my sight line to the aforementioned portico became completely obstructed by all of the SUVs and pickup-driving parents who were in the lane to the left of me. They then parked their vehicles in the designated spaces and walked over to the pickup portico to wait for their children. I was slightly baffled at this new development but still, for the most part, committed to sticking with the plan previously discussed that involved following the car in front of me. It was evident that the "parkers" weren't going to employ that strategy. Just as well since the parking lot was beginning to become a bit congested and movement had virtually come to a standstill.
The situation became further complicated when I noticed that another line had formed leading up to the portico made up of vehicles entering from the street. This line could have been the tail end of the line that I was already in and that circled counterclockwise back behind me. Or it could have been a new line that had formed while I was focusing on the car in front of me. Who knows? To add to the confusion, there was yet another line that formed to the east of the school in a smaller parking lot merging at a right angle with the line coming in off the street. By now, the choice of lines that I could have possibly been in grew to three not counting the line of cars who were jockeying for the few remaining parking places in the main lot and were certain to become part of the now growing "parkers" movement.
Doubt began to creep into my mind as to whether I had misunderstood the only instruction that I had received (just follow the car in front of you and do what they do). Now instead of the one and only option that I thought I had of driving through and picking up my granddaughter (kinda like the drive through window at Burger King), I now, it seemed, had a second option of parking the Jeep, and walking over and retrieving my grandchild by hand (akin to the dine-in option at McDonald's). Made me start to wonder if I waited long enough, maybe a Sonic option might become available and I could just push a button and a carhop would deliver my granddaughter to me curbside. As you can see, my confusion and impending fear that somehow I was gonna mess this up big time was beginning to take hold.
At this point, I couldn't tell due to all the cars now blocking my sight line as to what the procedure was going to be. I did know that things were becoming complicated. Questions begin to pop into my mind that made me wonder whether I was competent enough to be charged with this responsibility. Questions like "How do I ascertain if I am in the right line?" What's the criteria? After all, there were no guide signs evident, no painted symbols in each lane designating the lane for either the parkers or the drivers, no "you are here" maps to check my location against. What's a confused and directionally challenged Grandma to do?
And then, the plot thickened. The vehicle in front of me who had all the power according to my instructions and, unbeknownst to them, was in charge of me, did something totally unscripted. They broke rank, pulled out of the line up, and went rogue, skirting between the parking lot and the parked circle of cars towards an unknown destination. I was worried yet intrigued. Wasn't I suppose to "just follow the car in front of me and do what they did"? Did I have a choice? So I did something, I took the bull by its horn and made a decision. And, as is always the case when the decision involves changing lines/lanes, I made the wrong one.
Faced once again with a moment of crisis and indecision, I reverted back to what has become second nature to me, I let my foot do the talking. My right foot to be more explicit. You know the one that was on the brake that is now on the gas. Yeah, that one. I followed the car in front of me. And in doing so, I felt confident it was the right thing to do. After all, this parent obviously knew what she was doing, had done it before, and probably was an expert at it. All I had to do was draft her and I'd be right where I was suppose to be - at the pickup portico retrieving my granddaughter at just the right time/spot. (For those of you who have picked up a child from school, you know that timing is everything!)
As we passed the other parents still patiently waiting in the circle drive line, I was hoping no one would think that I was "cutting" and would understand that it was my destiny to follow the car in front of me. Basically, I was just following orders. But even before I finished mentally apologizing to the other folks in line, the car in front of me abruptly and deftly turned left into an opening in the drive-through pick up lane that materialized when another car heading up the "entering from the street" line stopped short to visit with a pedestrian. Voila! Magically, the car in front of me moved to the right hand lane where she needed to be under the pickup portico. A kind and helpful staff member opened the rear passenger door, helped the driver's child into the waiting vehicle, and it was done. I saw it with my own eyes. The process works!
Now I was re-energized. I can do this! I am an intelligent woman with years of driving experience, most of which was legal and enables me to maintain insurability. I am ready! There's my granddaughter. There's her lovely teacher. The time is now. Just do it.
Even though I knew I had my work cut out for me after witnessing the slick maneuver performed by "the car in front of me", all I had to do was mimic her strategy and I will have conquered this demon known as the school parking lot. Hopefully, it would go as smoothly for me as it did for my mentor. (Spoiler alert: well it didn't.)
I look to the right and my lane is open. I look ahead and the vehicle from the "entering from the street" line is still stopped short and there is a space that I can turn left into and move over to the right lane and retrieve my grandchild. Yes, yes! I signal left hand turn and am just about to make my move over to the far right lane when the vehicle in the "entering from the street" line starts to move up. Oh no! There's no place for me to move over to the right "pick up your child here" lane now. I am trapped. There's no place to go but forward and there's no line to move into. I am my own line. Evidently, it's the line to nowhere because no one else is in it. This is just wrong in so many ways but mainly because I have no car in front of me to follow now. It's decision time again. Crunch time. Usually not the time that I make my best decisions. Especially decisions involving lane changes. But I do what must be done. I stop. Completely. As in not moving at all.
The lovely teacher spots me now mainly because my granddaughter jumps up and announces loudly "There's my Bella!" I can see the teacher is in a quandary. She recognizes me from our introduction the night before but also recognizes that I am not in the right lane (figuratively or literally) to safely pick up a student. However, I truly believe she sensed the hopelessness I was experiencing and felt compassionate toward me in my present situation. Here I was, stopped in the middle of the "pickup portico no parking area" in a state of parked-ness with a look of total ineptitude on my face. Surely, it was a sad sight indeed. So she did what most first grade teachers would do in that situation. She took my granddaughter with her right hand, stopped traffic with her left hand, made her way to me across a lane of traffic, opened the rear passenger door, placed my granddaughter safely in my Jeep, and left me with these parting words, "You can't pick her up from this lane again."
Thanks and point noted. God Bless You, Mrs. Judd! Tomorrow I will do better...
Wait a minute! Oh no! I have to do this again tomorrow?
So, please take this as an explanation as to the major length of time that has elapsed between this blog and the last one I wrote, which incidentally, just happened to be about my dear Grandma Rosie and what she meant to me, how she helped me become the person that I am today, and how I hope to be as good a grandmother to my grandchildren as she was to me. (And, as easy as it sounds, it proves daily to be harder than it seems!)
This past week, I had the opportunity to keep two of my grandchildren while their mother was out of town for several days. Her trip happened to coincide with the starting of school for these two wonder kids and added, yet, another dimension to the learning curve for this grandma.
Now, let me begin by saying that it's been a long, long time since I traversed the intricacies of the school drop off/pick up maneuver and, admittedly, my first attempt in this millennium was not all that successful or without challenges. In my defense though, the only instructions I received concerning this very important part of the educational process prior to my first assignment were to "just follow the car in front of you and do what they do."
Seemed simple enough. So, after arriving at school a few minutes early on that very first day and noticing other parents parked on the south side of the circle drive, I snagged the next available slot in line. I then focused most of my attention on the car directly ahead of me. The rest of my attention was focused on what I deemed to be "the pickup portico"where my beautiful six year old granddaughter and her teacher (a lovely woman whom I had met the night before at the "complete the paperwork/school supply drop off" event) were suppose to meet up with me.
Unfortunately, it wasn't long until my sight line to the aforementioned portico became completely obstructed by all of the SUVs and pickup-driving parents who were in the lane to the left of me. They then parked their vehicles in the designated spaces and walked over to the pickup portico to wait for their children. I was slightly baffled at this new development but still, for the most part, committed to sticking with the plan previously discussed that involved following the car in front of me. It was evident that the "parkers" weren't going to employ that strategy. Just as well since the parking lot was beginning to become a bit congested and movement had virtually come to a standstill.
The situation became further complicated when I noticed that another line had formed leading up to the portico made up of vehicles entering from the street. This line could have been the tail end of the line that I was already in and that circled counterclockwise back behind me. Or it could have been a new line that had formed while I was focusing on the car in front of me. Who knows? To add to the confusion, there was yet another line that formed to the east of the school in a smaller parking lot merging at a right angle with the line coming in off the street. By now, the choice of lines that I could have possibly been in grew to three not counting the line of cars who were jockeying for the few remaining parking places in the main lot and were certain to become part of the now growing "parkers" movement.
Doubt began to creep into my mind as to whether I had misunderstood the only instruction that I had received (just follow the car in front of you and do what they do). Now instead of the one and only option that I thought I had of driving through and picking up my granddaughter (kinda like the drive through window at Burger King), I now, it seemed, had a second option of parking the Jeep, and walking over and retrieving my grandchild by hand (akin to the dine-in option at McDonald's). Made me start to wonder if I waited long enough, maybe a Sonic option might become available and I could just push a button and a carhop would deliver my granddaughter to me curbside. As you can see, my confusion and impending fear that somehow I was gonna mess this up big time was beginning to take hold.
At this point, I couldn't tell due to all the cars now blocking my sight line as to what the procedure was going to be. I did know that things were becoming complicated. Questions begin to pop into my mind that made me wonder whether I was competent enough to be charged with this responsibility. Questions like "How do I ascertain if I am in the right line?" What's the criteria? After all, there were no guide signs evident, no painted symbols in each lane designating the lane for either the parkers or the drivers, no "you are here" maps to check my location against. What's a confused and directionally challenged Grandma to do?
And then, the plot thickened. The vehicle in front of me who had all the power according to my instructions and, unbeknownst to them, was in charge of me, did something totally unscripted. They broke rank, pulled out of the line up, and went rogue, skirting between the parking lot and the parked circle of cars towards an unknown destination. I was worried yet intrigued. Wasn't I suppose to "just follow the car in front of me and do what they did"? Did I have a choice? So I did something, I took the bull by its horn and made a decision. And, as is always the case when the decision involves changing lines/lanes, I made the wrong one.
Faced once again with a moment of crisis and indecision, I reverted back to what has become second nature to me, I let my foot do the talking. My right foot to be more explicit. You know the one that was on the brake that is now on the gas. Yeah, that one. I followed the car in front of me. And in doing so, I felt confident it was the right thing to do. After all, this parent obviously knew what she was doing, had done it before, and probably was an expert at it. All I had to do was draft her and I'd be right where I was suppose to be - at the pickup portico retrieving my granddaughter at just the right time/spot. (For those of you who have picked up a child from school, you know that timing is everything!)
As we passed the other parents still patiently waiting in the circle drive line, I was hoping no one would think that I was "cutting" and would understand that it was my destiny to follow the car in front of me. Basically, I was just following orders. But even before I finished mentally apologizing to the other folks in line, the car in front of me abruptly and deftly turned left into an opening in the drive-through pick up lane that materialized when another car heading up the "entering from the street" line stopped short to visit with a pedestrian. Voila! Magically, the car in front of me moved to the right hand lane where she needed to be under the pickup portico. A kind and helpful staff member opened the rear passenger door, helped the driver's child into the waiting vehicle, and it was done. I saw it with my own eyes. The process works!
Now I was re-energized. I can do this! I am an intelligent woman with years of driving experience, most of which was legal and enables me to maintain insurability. I am ready! There's my granddaughter. There's her lovely teacher. The time is now. Just do it.
Even though I knew I had my work cut out for me after witnessing the slick maneuver performed by "the car in front of me", all I had to do was mimic her strategy and I will have conquered this demon known as the school parking lot. Hopefully, it would go as smoothly for me as it did for my mentor. (Spoiler alert: well it didn't.)
I look to the right and my lane is open. I look ahead and the vehicle from the "entering from the street" line is still stopped short and there is a space that I can turn left into and move over to the right lane and retrieve my grandchild. Yes, yes! I signal left hand turn and am just about to make my move over to the far right lane when the vehicle in the "entering from the street" line starts to move up. Oh no! There's no place for me to move over to the right "pick up your child here" lane now. I am trapped. There's no place to go but forward and there's no line to move into. I am my own line. Evidently, it's the line to nowhere because no one else is in it. This is just wrong in so many ways but mainly because I have no car in front of me to follow now. It's decision time again. Crunch time. Usually not the time that I make my best decisions. Especially decisions involving lane changes. But I do what must be done. I stop. Completely. As in not moving at all.
The lovely teacher spots me now mainly because my granddaughter jumps up and announces loudly "There's my Bella!" I can see the teacher is in a quandary. She recognizes me from our introduction the night before but also recognizes that I am not in the right lane (figuratively or literally) to safely pick up a student. However, I truly believe she sensed the hopelessness I was experiencing and felt compassionate toward me in my present situation. Here I was, stopped in the middle of the "pickup portico no parking area" in a state of parked-ness with a look of total ineptitude on my face. Surely, it was a sad sight indeed. So she did what most first grade teachers would do in that situation. She took my granddaughter with her right hand, stopped traffic with her left hand, made her way to me across a lane of traffic, opened the rear passenger door, placed my granddaughter safely in my Jeep, and left me with these parting words, "You can't pick her up from this lane again."
Thanks and point noted. God Bless You, Mrs. Judd! Tomorrow I will do better...
Wait a minute! Oh no! I have to do this again tomorrow?
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