The Grandma Chronicles: The Aborted Sleepover

Posted on January 31, 2011 by viviankirkfield

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My grandmother was a very special lady.

She loved people and had an special place in her heart for children.

Every summer, each of her grandchildren was given the opportunity to spend two weeks with her in that warm and welcoming house on a tree-lined street in Brooklyn, New York.

When I was 4 years old, I pleaded to be allowed to go for my first sleepover. Even though my parents didn’t think I was old enough, they relented and so I helped my mother pack my little suitcase, dreaming of all the fun things I would do with my grandmother during those two weeks. Visits to the beach at Coney Island, hot dogs at Nathans, hours spent helping my grandmother bake and cook in her warm kitchen, planting seeds in her wildly beautiful and fragrant backyard garden.

Since all of my grandmother’s children and grandchildren visited her on Sundays, my family and I took the train from Manhattan to Brooklyn. I sat in my seat, my little suitcase at my feet, and could hardly wait for the train to arrive at her station.

After a fun-filled day of playing with my cousins, the house slowly emptied as my aunts and uncles and cousins left for their own homes and I bid farewell to my parents and older sister. I enjoyed the next few hours, helping my grandmother wash and dry the dishes. I played with her special box of costume jewelry that she kept just for little girls who love to wear sparkly things. I helped her prepare our dinner.

But, as evening approached, I began to feel very anxious and unhappy.

I wanted to go home to sleep in my own bed…in the room I shared with my sister.

Although my grandmother did try to encourage me to stay, she understood how I felt and did not try to pressure me or make light of my concerns. She called my parents and my father came to get me…no easy task since he had to take the subway from Manhattan to Brooklyn and then do the trip in reverse to bring me home. He had already made the trip back and forth earlier in the day. And the next day was Monday and he would have to do it again to go to work.

But there were no recriminations or “I told you so” comments from either of my parents.

Do you have a child who suffers from separation anxiety? Early on, young children form a very strong bond with their parents. While we don’t want to ever break that bond, each child has their own unique ability to stretch it…some are able to do it sooner and some later.

How can you help your children get to the point where they can watch you walk away and keep a smile on their faces and in their hearts?

Here are a few good tips that might help:

1. Reassure your child you will always return.

2. Keep your attitude positive and matter-of-fact.

3. Treat your child’s concerns with respect.

4. Offer stories of your own childhood experiences and feelings.

5. Read picture book stories where the main character faces a similar problem, but succeeds in overcoming it.

If you check out some of my past posts that address this issue, you will find some of those book suggestions and other tips that may help.

https://viviankirkfield.wordpress.com/2011/01/21/mommy-where-are-you/

https://viviankirkfield.wordpress.com/2011/01/19/help-where-am-i-im-lost/

https://viviankirkfield.wordpress.com/2010/07/29/is-your-child-anxious-about-starting-school/

You can also find more picture book recommendations, gentle parenting tips and fun-filled educational activities in my new parenting book

I hope you’ve all enjoyed The Grandma Chronicles. It was a wonderful experience for me, revisiting with my memories of a person who had a great impact on my early years…and in helping me to become the person I am today.

Tomorrow I will start a new series based on The Lessons of Nanny McFee. Have you seen the movie? I just did and I was struck by her five lessons…I think each one has a place in every parent’s rulebook.

The Grandma Chronicles: Many Peach Trees Grow in Brooklyn

Posted on January 29, 2011 by viviankirkfield

Howe's Historical Collections of Ohio, Ohio Ce...

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Do you know the story of Johnny Appleseed? Born in 1774, he was a true American hero who planted apple seeds and then sold the seedling trees for pennies so that early settlers could grow apples. I guess we could call him one of America’s first nurserymen.

I don’t know all the details about that long-ago gardener, but I do know why there are so many peach trees growing on a particular street in Brooklyn.

As young parents, my grandmother and her husband bought a one-family home on a tree-lined street in Brooklyn. It was a two story house with a small garden plot in the back. And I know that the patch of dirt in the backyard of that house was a very special place for my grandmother. For her, it was an escape when the frustrations of motherhood were overwhelming and a haven when the toils of housework called for a respite.

My grandmother told me that one day she had bought several pounds of peaches at the market. After preparing them to use as filling for a peach pie, she held the pits in her hand, imaging the peach trees they might become. Making up her mind, she put them in a paper bag, grabbed a small shovel and went outside to her backyard. My grandmother proceeded to plant several peach pits in the rich earth. Hurrying to the small plot of dirt next door, she planted a few pits there. Her mission for that afternoon: find a home for each peach pit…and she continued planting pits in every backyard on the street.

I don’t know how many pits grew into peach trees…I do know that I picked many peaches from the tree behind my grandmother’s house…most of them wormy because she didn’t use any insecticides. The next-door neighbor and my best friend who lived across the street also had peach trees in their backyards…probably equally as wormy. 🙂

As a child, I spent many blissful hours on my knees in that dirt, helping my grandmother plant and weed…learning much more than just how deep to plant a daisy seed or which weeds to pull up. I learned to:

Care about and respect nature
Care about and respect others
Care about and respect myself

Another valuable lesson I learned from my grandmother was a love of cooking. From my parenting book, SHOW ME HOW! BUILD YOUR CHILD’S SELF-ESTTEM THROUGH READING, CRAFTING, AND COOKING, here’s a lovely child-friendly recipe for a healthy fruit-laden cake that calls for apples, but you could substitute peaches if they are in season.

CHILD-FRIENDLY APPLE CAKE

The wonderful aroma of apples and cinnamon baking in the oven…ahhhhh!

You will need: 2 cups all purpose flour, ½ tsp salt, 1 tsp baking soda, 1 tsp ground cinnamon, 1 cup sugar, ¾ cup canola oil, 2 eggs beaten, 2½ cups apples (peeled and sliced thinly), ½ cup applesauce, ½ cup raisins, a large bowl, a 9×13 inch greased baking pan and a spatula.

In a large bowl, mix the flour, salt, baking soda, cinnamon and ¾ cup sugar.
Make a well in the center of the flour and add the oil and eggs and mix well
Add the apples and raisins and stir until well distributed
Spread the batter in the greased pan. Smooth with a spatula and sprinkle with ¼ cup sugar.
Bake at 350 degrees for 35 to 45 minutes.
Insert a toothpick in the center of the cake…the cake is done if it comes out clean.
Serve warm or at room temperature.
Serves 12…refrigerate leftovers in an airtight container.

Stop by tomorrow for the last installment of The Grandma Chronicles: The Summer of the Black Cat.

The Grandma Chronicles: Where are the Side-Lanterns on my Car?

Posted on January 28, 2011 by viviankirkfield

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Have you ever done something wrong, but were afraid to admit it? And to cover it up, did you pass the blame off on someone else?

In my grandmother’s day, a husband’s word was law. I never knew my grandfather, who passed away when I was an infant, but I’ve heard that he was a strict man. My grandmother told me that at dinnertime, she would pass out books to each of her five children so that there would be quiet at the dinner table. I don’t know whether my grandmother and her husband conversed…but I know the children ate with their heads buried in their books. These days, most of us encourage conversation at the dinner table…it’s a wonderful time to relate the day’s events and share interesting moments. And, although we might be horrified at a father who insisted on silence during dinner, you’ll have to admit that this policy did provide time for the children to read. 🙂

My grandfather had purchased one of the first cars made…a Model T…and I’m sure he was extremely proud of it. I don’t know if you needed a license to drive a car in those days…but I know my grandmother didn’t have one…nor did she know how to drive. However, one spring morning she decided that it was time for her to drive the car. Taking it out on the street, she drove around the neighborhood, quite pleased with herself.

And then she came to a very narrow street.

With cars parked on both sides.

And both side-lanterns were ripped off.

As the last rays of the setting sun glinted off the shiny black surface of the car, my grandfather returned home from work. I can imagine his horrified stare as he realized that the side-lanterns of his precious car were missing. His roar of rage could probably be heard half-way down the street…certainly my grandmother heard it in the kitchen where she was preparing dinner.

“What happened to the car? Did YOU drive it?” he shouted, angrily. My grandmother paused for only a moment and then replied softly, “Walter drove it and I don’t know where he is.”

Walter was their oldest son…probably about 15 years old at the time. As soon as she had returned home with the damaged car, my grandmother had told him the story and had pleaded with him to take the blame, but that she would hide him in the cellar for a few days until my grandfather had cooled off. After all, the family could continue along for a few days without Walter, but what would the other children do if something happened to her.

I guess my grandfather did cool off, because years later, when I knew my uncle Walter, he was a successful musician, and he did NOT live in the cellar. 🙂

This story made a very deep and lasting impression on me when my grandmother told it to me many years ago. The lesson I learned was that if you want a child (or anyone) to tell you the truth, you have to:

Try to listen without judgment or condemnation.
Try to be patient.
Try not to scream or scold or lose your temper.
Deal out fair and reasonable punishments or consequences for misbehavior.

Positive parenting takes time and effort…laying that foundation of trust and respect when children are young reaps wonderful benefits as they get older and helps create a life-long parent-child bond.