And, I've been informed (several times) that I'm not as much fun as Grandma or that I'm not doing something the correct way because it's different from how Grandma does it. Wow. Grandma comes in to help for five days and inadvertently sweeps Mom under the rug. I've lost any status of cool or fun or silly or funny.
My boys adore Grandma. In fact, Grady Lee asked the other night if we could pray to Grandma before going to bed. Yikes - I had to kill that idea ASAP and tell him we could pray for Grandma but certainly not to her. (And, while we were at it, I suggested we pray for a change in his heart and that he would decide I was fun and silly again too. Come on kid - my pride is hurt!)
Grandma's plane came on a Thursday and the fun didn't stop until she took off the following Wednesday. She wowed and amazed both boys with a football birthday cake; reading the Gingerbread Boy book and then actually making gingerbread cookies; hunting for pinecones and then rolling them in peanut butter and birdseed to "make a special snack for the birdies because it's so cold"; taking them to the playground - despite temps in the low 30's; doing fun crafts and games; making bubble baths in the "big swimming tub" and letting them splash for as long as they wanted; AND, teaching them how to trap and kill mice in the garage (it goes without saying that this was the highlight for the boys).
But seriously, is there anything else I'd want to hear from my boys? Nope! I love that they love my mom. My friend. My influencer. My role model. My "I-won't-tell-you-how-to-do-something-but-I'm-always-here-if-you-want-advice" mom.