At first my son love his changing table, and then out of the blue, he would throw his hands up in the air and start screaming.
At first my son love his changing table, and then out of the blue, he would throw his hands up in the air and start screaming. He does it just about every time now, but hen I bring him to his grandma’s house he does not do it on her changing table.

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It’s still 5 months from now, but I want to get some ideas because I don’t know what would make the day special to her because she’s always around our friends and family, and everyone is always buying her things. So, a big party with lots of people and presents is good, but won’t be any different then a Saturday night at Grandma’s to her. So, I need ideas of what to do, where to go? Or just what would be very good for a year old baby girl? thanks to everyone!

Technorati Tags: 5 months, friends and family, google, grandma, old baby girl, saturday night, script type, text javascript

This is the prologue to my novel:

I can still hear his laugh, loud and true. I can still see his face, though it’s becoming fuzzier and fuzzier every day. I can still smell the apple pie baking in the oven, crispy and warm when it’s fully cooked.
“It’s going to taste marvelous,” my Grandma would say, handing us each a slice. “We’ll all take a bite at the same time.”
My Grandma was always soft-spoken. She never really disciplined us, and Natalie and I often got away with murder in their house. She was the best baker, but when it came to actual cooking, she wasn’t exactly great. But she occasionally (well, that might be an overstatement) made decent-tasting meals (other than her rubbery steak). She was always reading a book or a doing crossword puzzle, and knew all the answers to the TV show “Jeopardy”. When I was five, I told her that she should be on the show, but she was too humble to admit that she was even good. If she ever did try out, I’m sure she would’ve actually made it. I daydreamed in second grade about cruises and vacations we’d go on with all of the money she’d win. But she never did. Sometimes, even now, I wish she at least tried.
“Yummy!” My little sister, Natalie, with her big brown eyes, long, chocolate brown hair and cute baby face would say, always eager to eat Grandma’s homemade pie. My Grandparents were into the do-it-yourself meals. Nothing processed, no TV dinners, no tons of corn syrup, or 2,000 mg of sodium. Everything was homemade and organic. And that’s the way I liked it.
Then my Grandpa would walk into the house, wet and in his fishing clothes. My Grandparents’ backyard was literally the ocean. They had a dock, where my Grandpa’s boat was tethered and his tackle gear was placed.
“That apple pie smells great, Betty!” He would exclaim to my Grandma, taking off his hat.
“You’re just in time. We were just about to eat it!” She would say, handing him a plate. “Ready?”
“On the count of three!” My Grandma would start.
I would yell happily, “One…”
“Two…” Grandpa would continue.
“Three!” Natalie would finish off, and we would all be so eager to try the pie that we barely even said, “Eat!”
Grandpa loved spending time with us. Almost anything we said made this guy laugh. Even my little sister, Natalie, made his wrinkly face smile with her corny, then-eight-year-old jokes. When the rain ruined his day of fishing, he just shrugged and topped his scraggly gray hair with a rain hat. But not only did he laugh himself, he made everyone around him beam with happiness. His warm smile lit up a room in a heartbeat and no one will ever be able to truly describe the feeling you got when he gave you a firm hug. It was always a treat to be invited to my Grandma and Grandpa’s house for barbeques because my Grandpa would make the best homemade buffalo burgers (more homemade food!). The secret recipe was handed down to my father. But my Dad’s burgers still can’t compare.
Natalie would always ask Grandpa if we could go on his boat on the rainiest days. She didn’t mean to, though. That’s just Natalie. She’s so oblivious and is always in her own little world. It can be cute sometimes, but mostly, it’s downright annoying. She is extremely outgoing and never shuts up, which only adds the the annoyance factor. I’m always threatening her with things like “If you don’t stop talking, I’ll throw your favorite stuffed animal out the window!” and then getting yelled at by my parents. Natalie gets her way a lot. But I have to love her. Not because I want to. Because I’m forced to.
Grandma and Grandpa would laugh. Natalie and I would eat our pie. This is how it was at their house.
Until it happened.
–

Is it too short? Is it good? Bad? Any comments or tips are appreciated! Thanks!

~♥~
Yes, this is for NaNoWriMo

Thanks for the tips everyone!

By the way, the main character is a girl

But how can I really introduce the MC without saying "I am Brielle. I am 16 years old. I have hazel eyes and gloden blonde hair."?

Technorati Tags: apple pie, brown eyes, brown hair, corn syrup, crossword puzzle, cute baby face, fishing clothes, grandma, grandpa, grandparents, homemade pie, jeopardy, little sister, overstatement, prologue, reading a book, second grade, sister natalie, sodium, tv dinners

I can still hear his laugh: loud, brazen, and true. I can still see his face, though it’s becoming fuzzier and fuzzier every day. I can still smell the apple pie baking in the oven, crispy and warm when it’s fully cooked.
“It’s going to taste marvelous,” my Grandma would say, handing us each a slice. “We’ll all take a bite at the same time.”
My Grandma was always soft-spoken. She never really disciplined us, and Natalie and I often got away with murder in their house. She was the best baker, but when it came to actual cooking, she wasn’t exactly great. But she occasionally (well, that might be an overstatement) made decent-tasting meals (other than her rubbery steak). She was always reading a book or a doing crossword puzzle, and knew all the answers to the TV show “Jeopardy”. When I was five, I told her that she should be on the show, but she was too humble to admit that she was even good. If she ever did try out, I’m sure she would’ve actually made it. I daydreamed in second grade about cruises and vacations we’d go on with all of the money she’d win. But she never did. Sometimes, even now, I wish she had at least tried.
“Yummy!” My little sister, Natalie, with her big brown eyes, just like mine, and her cute baby face and toothy smile, would say, always eager to eat Grandma’s homemade pie. My Grandparents were into the do-it-yourself meals. Nothing processed, no TV dinners, no tons of corn syrup, or 2,000 mg of sodium. Everything was homemade and organic. And that’s the way I liked it.
Then my Grandpa would walk into the house, wet and in his fishing clothes. My Grandparents’ backyard was literally the ocean. They had a dock, where my Grandpa’s boat was tethered and his tackle gear was placed.
“That apple pie smells great, Betty!” He would exclaim to my Grandma, taking off his hat.
“You’re just in time. We were just about to eat it!” She would say, handing him a plate. “Ready?”
“On the count of three!” My Grandma would start.
I would yell happily, “One…”
“Two…” Grandpa would continue.
“Three!” Natalie would finish off, and we would all be so eager to try the pie that we barely even said, “Eat!”
Grandpa loved spending time with us. Almost anything we said made this guy laugh. Even my little sister, Natalie, made his wrinkly face smile with her corny, then-eight-year-old jokes. When the rain ruined his day of fishing, he just shrugged and topped his scraggly gray hair with a rain hat. But not only did he laugh himself, he made everyone around him beam with happiness. His warm smile lit up a room in a heartbeat and no one will ever be able to truly describe the feeling you got when he gave you a firm hug. It was always a treat to be invited to my Grandma and Grandpa’s house for barbeques because my Grandpa would make the best homemade buffalo burgers (even more homemade food). The secret recipe was handed down to my father. But my Dad’s burgers still can’t compare.
Natalie would always ask Grandpa if we could go on his boat on the rainiest days. She didn’t mean to, though. That’s just Natalie. She’s so oblivious and is always in her own little world. It can be cute sometimes, but mostly, it’s downright annoying. She is extremely outgoing and never shuts up, which only adds to the annoyance factor. I’m always threatening her with things like “If you don’t stop talking, I’ll throw your favorite stuffed animal out the window!” and then getting yelled at by my parents. Natalie gets her way a lot. But I have to love her. Not because I want to. Because I’m forced to.
When it was sunny outside, Grandpa did take us out onto the ocean. Sometimes, at sunset, we would picnic on the boat and tell stories.
“Grandpa, how do you come up with all of these fairy-tales?” I would ask him, always curious.
“Well, Brielle, I just think out of the box!” He’d smile confidently and pat my back.
“I wish I could be like you, Grampa.” Natalie would say, taking a big bite of her turkey and cheese sandwich.
Grandma and Grandpa would laugh. Natalie and I would eat our pie. This is how it was at their house.
Until it happened.
–

How is it? Any comments, suggestions, etc? Thanks for reading.
BTW, this is for NaNoWriMo.

BQ: Are you doing NaNoWriMo? If so, how many words do you have?

I’m a little behind; I was aiming to have at least 15,000 by now, but I only have about 11,000. I’d better stop procrastinating and get to work ^_^

~♥~
I’m editing it… I have about 45 pages on Microsoft word so far. So yes, I am continuing it

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Three weeks ago my Grandma broke her hip. After getting a pedicure and prior to a massage, beauticiantician had her put on a robe and a pair of disposable flip flops. After changing my grandma of 84 years walked out to the lobby and tripped on a misplaced floor mat (over-lapping another). My Grandma has had surgery since. She asked me for some advice on where to find a good lawyer, and also whether or not she should sue.

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I have a 26 month old toddler and stopped by Michael’s yesterday to try to make a gift for his grandma. I loved all the creative things they have at those type of stores and I am thinking of doing some project with my son once a week.

How old were your children when you began to do crafts together? The gift we were going to do did not seem to interest my son even though it involved paint. Also any ideas of fun stuff to do for a toddler?

Thanks in advance!

Technorati Tags: crafts, fun stuff, google, grandma, script type, text javascript, thanks in advance

I’m Sarah and I’m almost 15. My paternal grandma is 68 and, up until recently, has been very good to me. My cousin is 13 and we’re very close, but exact opposites. My cousin’s tall, brown hair, designer clothes and pop music, I’m small, blonde and purple hair, black/bright clothes and metal/rock music. She’s been described as very spoiled, but sometimes a nice person, whereas I’m apparently unspoiled and too nice for my own good, as I’ve been told.

My nan’s always had a bit of a soft spot for the cousin, because her father’s richer than mine. However, she’s started to take out her temper on me and makes me feel rubbish every time I visit her on Wednesdays on Saturdays. For example:

Nan: Sarah, I hate your hair. It’s horrible. The blonde is nice, but that purple is too bright. It’s too short and your hair’s all over your face. I hate your hair.
Me: I see.
Nan: Why can’t your hair be more like ____’s? ____’s just washed hers.
Cousin: Actually, I washed it five days ago.
Nan: But it’s still nicer than Sarah’s.

I was asked to attend a sleepover with one of my best friends. My nan insisted my mother would let me go, only I was supposed to be at my friend’s house twenty minutes later, and that’s too short notice. My mother told me this and I agreed. I told my nan, and…

Nan: No wonder you’ve got no friends.
Me: That’s not a very nice thing to say.
Nan: But it’s true. You have no friends. Why can’t you be more like ____? ____ has friends.
Me: I do have friends. Lots of friends. (It’s true, I’m quite popular.)
Nan: But they’re not real friends, you have no friends and no one likes you.
Me: That’s mean.
Nan: Don’t you dare talk to me like that! You should respect your elders!

I got really upset, sought out my mother, my boyfriend of six months and several other friends for comfort, and went out on Saturdays rather than going to see her. One Wednesday, I decided that I had to be mature and go round. My two year old half cousin comes round on Wednesdays and I like her, so that was the main reason I was going – I didn’t want to let her down. In the car on the way to my nan’s, my nan was humming, so I stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt her.

Nan: For God’s sake, haven’t you got anything to say?
Me: I didn’t want to interrupt.
Nan: Such a miserable, spoilt child.

We got into her house and I noticed the two-year-old half cousin wasn’t there, but I didn’t ask in case her granddad, my nan’s boyfriend, had taken her out.

Nan: Aren’t you going to ask where ___ is or don’t you care?
Me: Oh, yeah, where’s ___?
Nan: Nevermind, you don’t care, you spoilt teenage brat.

Once again, I was upset. I didn’t go round her house for a few weeks until yesterday.

I noticed that my nan would always bring my cousin sweets and then never ask me if I would like any. She then lifted up a chocolate egg and said:
Nan: Sarah, this is for __ (baby) from you. You bought it for her.
Me: No I didn’t.
Nan: Yes, you did. I’m going to give it to her and pretend you gave it to her because you’re too damn selfish to buy her one. You wouldn’t have bought her one.
Me: I wouldn’t. She’s not even allowed chocolate, her parents say.
Nan: Like I said, you’re selfish and spoiled.

I started crying in the company of my cousin and she gave me a hug. I’d told her that my nan always treats me second best and stereotypes me as a moody teen when I’m not, and my cousin told me that she’d just noticed it too and said I needed to talk to her. At that moment, my nan walks in.

Nan: Sarah, what are you crying for? You’re so miserable.
Me: I wonder why.
I’m never normally that sarcastic, but she was really annoying me.

Later, she took me home and said to my loving mother:

Nan: I don’t know what the hell’s up with Sarah over the past few weeks, she’s so moody and bratty it’s unbelievable. Sort her out (mum’s name.)

My mum’s never really liked my nan and decided to talk to me after my nan left.

Mum: What’s the matter? I know you’re not a brat, you never have been. What’s happened?
I explained what had happened and my mum hugged me and insisted I not go round there again. She wants to talk to my nan, but I don’t want my nan getting upset over it.

What have I done wrong? How can I make her like me?

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I’m about to pull my hair out. I have 2 girls, a 3 year old and a 6 week old. My newborn was jaundice at birth, and she had a tongue tie, so till the jaundice cleared up and she had her tongue clipped feedings were so slow and it seemed like I really did spend the whole day feeding her. I’ve been trying to plan special things for my 3 year old every day and my husband and I take time to play with her 1 on 1 doing her favorite things but she is not happy having to share us.

My 3 year old was fully potty trained.. now she likes to pee behind the bassinet and intentionally poops in her pants. Ok, I could handle that. Now she has decided she wants to be the baby. I will lay out an infant towel to bathe the baby and my 3 year old will steal it and say she needs it the second I take the baby out of her bath tub. At church yesterday she was sitting on her grandma’s lap and getting 100% attention from grandma. She had her lips puckered up, I thought she was just mad at me and making faces so I let it go… about 10 min later she spit all over grandma and announced she had spit up… I was furious but since we were sitting in mass I just handed grandma a towel…

I’m frustrated with her and I don’t know how to react. I don’t want to just yell at her all day but the second I start to feed her sister she will instantly act out. She keeps telling me her sister doesn’t need to eat and its breaking my heart to see her so sad and jealous.

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My husband and I have been married for 5 years and this little bundle of joy will be the long awaited first grandchild of both my parents and his. We have bought baby bibs that say "I love Grandma" and "I love Grandpa" for our parents, but what about a cute way to tell the rest of the family?

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where can i get i love grandpa and i love grandma bibs in a store and not on line?? i love in boston, ma. thanks!!!
great thanks! any idea about i love auntie or uncle bibs???

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