Tre Pretending To Cry

My Dad has been down visiting for about 1 week now and surprisingly the kids haven’t broken him yet.  I think he’s close, but he’s still hanging in there.  It takes a special kind of person to be able to deal with the high energy output and shenanigans of my kids and so far he’s holding up to the task.   Keeping up with these kids is tough for me, so I can only imagine the burden that’s placed on an old fart like my Dad (let’s see if he reads this post).  He has given baths, been shot with Nerf bullets unexpectedly, and has cooked food only to have it thrown on the floor.  He’s been to numerous parks, participated in foot races, and played basketball & football for the first time in probably 30 years.  But none of these hardships compare to his greatest battle of conquering the heart of a little guy named Tre. For some reason, the boy has a love/hate relationship with my Dad.  Its so funny to watch and due to my Dad’s resilience it’s quickly turning into a love/love relationship.

The picture above shows Tre’s face when my Dad first arrived, you would think that my Dad had just given him a spanking or something, but no Tre was faking.  He would pretend like he didn’t want my Dad to talk to him and make the face above, but the minute my Dad went to talk to Fefe or Ty, Tre would say “uh oh” and try to get his attention.  Once the attention was directed back to him he would repeat the face and perform a very unconvincing fake cry.  This “rinse & repeat” rendition took place the entire trip from the airport, and once they got home it only got worse.  Tre would do things like run to my Dad only to run away crying.  We couldn’t figure out why he was doing this, it was so weird.  He’d bring a ball to my Dad and motion for him to take it, but then cry if he did.  If it was me, I would have given up and said screw this little kid, I’ll talk to him when he’s older.  But my Dad pushed on. 

After a few hours we noticed something very strange.  If Fefe and I were in another room, Tre had no problems with my Dad.  He would run over to him, sit in his lap, hand him toys and even hold conversations with him.  Fefe was the first to witness this, hiding and peeking her head out from the kitchen.  The two of them were laughing and having a good ole time so she decided to let her presence be known. When she did, Tre went into full actor mode;  I think the kid deserves an Oscar.  Once he saw that Fefe had witnessed him fraternizing with the enemy; he quickly looked at her, looked at my Dad, and then back at her again, and then the face from the picture began to form.  He started to fake cry, fell on the ground, quickly hopped up and ran to Fefe.  We all couldn’t help but laugh, come on little guy, you were just having a ball over there with Grandpappy and now you’re acting like he just tried to kidnap you. 

We’ve been teaching Ty the “Don’t talk to strangers” lessons for quite some time now; maybe Tre has picked up on those lessons and he thinks my Dad is a stranger.  Well if that is the case, then we have a bigger problem on our hands.  He’s openly defying the rules and once he gets caught, tries to act innocent and push the blame onto someone else.  Sounds like the American way doesn’t it? Maybe he’s just ahead of the game.

Tre has started to soften up a bit, yesterday when I came home the two of them were having a ball playing and Tre took the time out to acknowledge me, but then went right back to focusing on my Dad.  It felt good to see the two of them finally start to bond.

So yesterday I wrote this post and by the time I got home, was seriously considering posting a retraction.  I definitely put my foot in my mouth, but it was a pleasant surprise.  Read on to find out what happened.  If you’ve already read yesterdays post, just skip down to the highlighted “update” section to find out what happened.

Grandpappy, or my Dad as I call him is coming to visit.  His plane should actually be landing as I write this post.  He’ll be visiting for two weeks, so I’m sure I’ll be writing about his interactions with the kids during that timeframe.  I wish my Mom was coming as well, but unfortunately, these two NEVER travel together.  They say it’s because it’s difficult to get vacation days during the same time as each other.  I say it’s because when one of them is gone, the other is throwing all type of crazy parties, like a high school kid who’s been left at home without any supervision.  For that reason, I’ve installed super secret, high tech surveillance cameras (smile for the camera Mom) in my parent’s home, to ensure that dance fever is kept to a minimum.  But that’s not the point of this post; you know I go off on tangents from time to time.  Since my Dad is coming, it got me to thinking about grandparent names and how unusual ours are.  When the kids were born, I was thinking a simple grandma and grandpa would do, but nope, not my parents, or Fefe’s either for that matter.

I always considered the names for my grandmothers to be pretty reasonable: Grandmomma and Grandmommie.  But my grandfather was a different story; I called him Virgil, his real name.  I don’t know why he wasn’t called granddad or grandpa; I never really thought much about it until I had kids.  My younger cousins called him granddad, but I guess I didn’t make the cut, I was too change by that time.  So when it came time to pick names for the kids to call my parents, I figured we’d follow the same naming format that was given to me for my grandparents, minus the Virgil aspect.  But that’s not what happened, somehow, I came up with the bright idea of having them pick their names.  I figured, hey, they’re the ones who have to respond to this name so why not let them pick what it should be.  How many of you would have picked a different name than the one given to you by your parents if you had the chance?  I thought that they would stay in line and follow tradition, but they had other ideas.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the names they picked, and so do the kids, they’re just a little different than I was expecting.

The names for my parents and Fefe’s parents are as follows: Nani (non-knee), Grandpappy (grand-pap-pee), Papa (paw-paw), and Nana, respectively.  Not your typical grandma and grandpa is it?  Well it was a lot worse, my Dad originally wanted to be called Grandpappypa (grand-pap-pee-paw).  That’s a mouthful; could you imagine being a two year old and trying to learn that name?  The kids would have been calling my dad “hey you” or “him” until they were 5 yrs old.  Thankfully, we were able to convince him to reduce it and it’s worked out pretty well so far.

I wonder when it’s time for me to become a grandparent, hopefully many many moons from now, will I pick a standard name, or go with something unique as my parents have chosen.

I’m interested to hear, what you call your grandparents or what do your grandchildren call you?  Are you a traditional grandma or are you referred to as something less generic?

***UPDATE***

Once I got home from work and greeted my Dad, I was all set to settle in and listen to stories of how his trip went, what he wanted to do while visiting, etc.  Before story time, I decided that a quick trip to the kitchen for a refreshing drink was in order.  As I’m walking towards the kitchen, Ty is rambling something about “look around you”.  I assumed it was his typical everyday banter, so paid it no mind.  I walked into the kitchen and greeted Fefe who was at the stove, then turned immediately to the fridge.  Before I opened it, I saw something out the corner of my eye and to my amazement (see pic), my Mom was standing there hiding in the kitchen.

I mean come on, how ironic is that.  Literally hours after I publicly go on record stating that these two NEVER travel together, BAM here they both are sitting in my house TOGETHER and I’m left standing there dumbfounded.  I’m not easily fooled or surprised, but I must admit they definitely got me good yesterday.  Now what I am suppose to do with all that high tech camera equipment that I purchased?  It was definitely a great surprise, and excellently executed plan.  I couldn’t be happier, thanks Mom & Dad for doing the unthinkable and traveling together.  Let the fun begin.

Grandpappy, or my Dad as I call him is coming to visit.  His plane should actually be landing as I write this post.  He’ll be visiting for two weeks, so I’m sure I’ll be writing about his interactions with the kids during that timeframe.  I wish my Mom was coming as well, but unfortunately, these two NEVER travel together.  They say it’s because it’s difficult to get vacation days during the same time as each other.  I say it’s because when one of them is gone, the other is throwing all type of crazy parties, like a high school kid who’s been left at home without any supervision.  For that reason, I’ve installed super secret, high tech surveillance cameras (smile for the camera Mom) in my parent’s home, to ensure that dance fever is kept to a minimum.  But that’s not the point of this post; you know I go off on tangents from time to time.  Since my Dad is coming, it got me to thinking about grandparent names and how unusual ours are.  When the kids were born, I was thinking a simple grandma and grandpa would do, but nope, not my parents, or Fefe’s either for that matter.

I always considered the names for my grandmothers to be pretty reasonable: Grandmomma and Grandmommie.  But my grandfather was a different story; I called him Virgil, his real name.  I don’t know why he wasn’t called granddad or grandpa; I never really thought much about it until I had kids.  My younger cousins called him granddad, but I guess I didn’t make the cut, I was too change by that time.  So when it came time to pick names for the kids to call my parents, I figured we’d follow the same naming format that was given to me for my grandparents, minus the Virgil aspect.  But that’s not what happened, somehow, I came up with the bright idea of having them pick their names.  I figured, hey, they’re the ones who have to respond to this name so why not let them pick what it should be.  How many of you would have picked a different name than the one given to you by your parents if you had the chance?  I thought that they would stay in line and follow tradition, but they had other ideas.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the names they picked, and so do the kids, they’re just a little different than I was expecting.

The names for my parents and Fefe’s parents are as follows: Nani (non-knee), Grandpappy (grand-pap-pee), Papa (paw-paw), and Nana, respectively.  Not your typical grandma and grandpa is it?  Well it was a lot worse, my Dad originally wanted to be called Grandpappypa (grand-pap-pee-paw).  That’s a mouthful; could you imagine being a two year old and trying to learn that name?  The kids would have been calling my dad “hey you” or “him” until they were 5 yrs old.  Thankfully, we were able to convince him to reduce it and it’s worked out pretty well so far. 

I wonder when it’s time for me to become a grandparent, hopefully many many moons from now, will I pick a standard name, or go with something unique as my parents have chosen.

I’m interested to hear, what you call your grandparents or what do your grandchildren call you?  Are you a traditional grandma or are you referred to as something less generic?