Crazy Gran Is Just A Little Bit Crazy

Get Up Gran

Daughter #2 arrived with Shmeed one evening and declared he was staying for the night. I agreed on the condition that we would not be sitting around all day watching TV programs the next day, as I had to be up early in the morning to make some food deliveries to the elderly.

He agreed and off he toddled to bed. (Not to sleep of course, as that grandchild has no concept of what sleep is)

Next morning I am woken by Schmeed fully dressed by the side of my bed saying 'Get out of bed Gran, we need to be up early' In my half awake state, I check the clock and realise it is 5am.

I will NEVER tell that grandchild that I need to be up early again !!!

The Blue Springs River Jump

Now I have had some pretty spectacular experiences whilst in New Zealand, but I think I can safely say this event was not one of my finest.

Let me set the scene. On this outing many years ago in New Zealand on a family holiday, in attendance were two of my daughters #1 & #4, my granddaughter Woozie, my Aunty Joy, my cousin Gary, his wife Tracy, their daughter Amy and Tracys Mum and Dad Aileen and Lang.

My cousin Gary is always coming up with some new hair brained idea that he can take the rise out of me for, and this is no exception. To try and scare the wits out of me he says has found a river over in Putaruru where you can jump in a pool at one end and the flow of the river gently rolls you down its path for about five or six minutes and then you come out in a shallow basin bit at the other end.

Now having been on the end of more than one of his mad outings, I am somewhat reluctant to say the least and say I will go on the outing and decide when I get there whether I am going to do the river jump bit.

As you do in New Zealand, a picnic lunch is quickly thrown together and off we all set in various cars all following one another in covoy to the river.

At the river, we all get out and go walk the path through a bit of bush to where the pool is where you have to jump off a rock, probably six feet above the river to get in to it. We watch a couple of little kids jump in to the crystal clear water and disappear out of site round the river bend.

I am unsure of the jump in to the water, not only for myself, but Woosie , 12 at the time and Amy 8 at the time, are all going to leap off this rock and I am fearful for them too. All the while I am dithering about whether I want to do this, I am being ‘coaxed’ by my cousin Gary ‘Dont worry Kaz, I will go in just after you and swim it with you, you will be fine’ ‘The kids are going to do it, you cant be the only one who doesn’t do it. ‘Think how good you will feel when you get to the other end’ etc etc etc. All egged on by Daughter #1 and Daughter #4. After watching a few more kids and adults throw themselves off this rock, I finally agree ‘OK I am going to do it’

We all walk back to the car to don togs and walk back again along the path under the command of Captain Gary, (once an army man, always an army man) who is now in his element as he has everyone on board and is busy organising what order we will all jump in. The order will be Daughter #1, Woozie, Daughter #4, Amy, then me, then Gary to sweep up anyone who needs help along the way. The instructions from Captain Gary is jump and swim !! The river will pull you along with it and you will probably not need to do much swimming anyway.

And we are off!!! Daugher #1 is in, closely followed by Woozie and they are out of site round the first river bend in seconds. Daughter #4 next, followed by Amy – gone. Me next ...... I leap off the rock into the water and instantly start screaming as the water is icy cold.I had no idea the water was going to be a very cold 11 degrees.  I start floundering around and Amy the 8 year old turns to come back to help. At which point I hear Daughter #4 say ‘Don’t stop for her Amy, she will pull you under, keep swimming’. Thanks very much #4 !! I then hear Gary jump in behind me. By this time I am totally out of my depth and had no idea this bloody river would be so cold or so deep. My body goes in to some sort of shock and I now cannot get my breath properly and Gary grabs hold of me and drags me to the side of the river, where I am now hanging on to an overhanging tree branch with one hand and Gary with the other for dear life. He has me pinned to the river bank by body blocking me which I am very grateful for.

He seems to think this is hysterically funny (which in his case it is, as he will be able to dine out on this story for years to come about how he saved my life) but, I am now having an asthma attack and cannot get my breath. He shakes me and tells me to calm down, as we are going to stay there until I am ok with the rest of the swim. I calm down marginally and try to get my breathing under control. At which point Gary is trying to explain that at some point I will need to let go of him, as we need to swim to the end to get out.

After what feels like eternity I say to Gary ‘OK I think I can let go now’ to which he replies ‘You do know there are eels in this river?’ To which I reply ‘You do know I peed on your leg with fright’ and let go.

I made it to the end to rapturous applause by everyone waiting on the bank. Needless to say, I have never swam in a river again to this day, and I am pretty sure I never will !!

www.freewalks.nz/putaruru/blue-springs-waihou-river-walk/track/

Now everything is a Hawkmoth

I come home from work to find GC#2, Special K in the kitchen making some sort of concoction that comes out of a packet. Why do teenagers cook out of packets?

Anyway, I digress, the general chit chat gets around to ‘Oh Gran, I forgot to tell you something’

‘Oh whats that?’ I say, thinking What now?

‘You will never guess what? Yesterday there was one of them huge big Hawkmoths in the kitchen. I pulled out the tea bag tin and it flew out at me and flew in to the bathroom. I run after it and shut the door really quickly, so I think it may still be in there’

I say ‘OK I will go and look, but it is probably not in there now, as I have had the windows open since yesterday, so it has probably flown out’ I proceed to open the bathroom door with Special K a very gingerly one foot behind me, peering over my shoulder, obviously not willing to risk another encounter with a Hawkmoth.

I open the window again just in case it is still in there and look all around the bathroom. I pull out the vanity bin and start to roll the blind down in case it is behind it. 

‘There it is’ he shouts, ‘on the window sill’ On closer inspection it is not a Hawkmoth but a dead bird !!! I look at him incredulously and say ‘How can you not tell the difference between a moth and a bird?’

Now I have a theory on this..... I reckon he actually knew it was a bird and did not want to deal with getting it out, so he made up a story for Gran when she got in so she would deal with it.

There’s Bats in My Room

I come down the stairs early one morning to find GC#2 aka Special K aged 18, snoring on my sofa. To say I am not pleased with this would be an understatement. Special K is not allowed to sleep on the sofa because he is a smelly, male, 18 year old.

This was one of the rules instilled a few weeks after he moved in, because I was coming down the stairs in the morning to find him asleep on the sofa, as he was too lazy to walk up the stairs after playing FIFA on the Xbox until the early hours of the morning. This is the reality of living with your grandson.

This morning in particular I stomp in to the front room give him a whack and ask him why he is sleeping on the sofa. With lightening speed he is off the sofa and is standing in the middle of the room in his boxer shorts, bleary eyed yelling ‘I am not going back up there, Gran don’t make me go back up there’ I am somewhat taken back by this and ask him what the hell he is on about and to get a grip !!

Once he had calmed down a bit, he explains that the reason he is on the sofa is because his bedroom has been invaded by bats. At this point, it first flashes through my head he has finally lost the plot all together and I start laughing. He is not impressed that I am laughing and is flatly refusing to move out of the lounge until I have checked the bedroom for bats.

OK so I think to myself, it could be feasible that there is a bat in the room, as once before I removed a bat from BFF house where it flew in the bedroom window. So up the stairs I trot, in to his bedroom that resembles a local squat, clothes all over the floor, window wide open, lights on, shoes strewn about, rucksack open on the floor. I start throwing things around the room, moving them out the way half-heartedly, to look for said bat and NOTHING.

I come back down the stairs where he is still in the middle of the lounge in his boxers and say ‘Right there is nothing there, get back to bed you idiot!!’ Which he duly does, fully assured that Gran has checked it out and it is all good.

When I arrive home that evening Daughters #3 and #4 with GC#3 Trouble and GC#5 Roo are there, along with the hairdresser. Special K has gone to work, so I proceed to tell the story of what happened that morning. Daughter#3 who is the mother of Special K said ‘Mum did you really check the room?’ I reply with ‘What do you think?’ She is not happy with me, and I reply ‘Well you go and check the room if you are so flipping worried’.

They toddle off up the stairs to check out the room, whilst the hairdresser proceeds to put a colour on my hair. In approximately three minutes, I hear a blood curdling scream from Trouble and it sounds like a herd of elephants pounding down the stairs. Daughter#3 says ‘There is a bat in there Mum and it is down the back of the bed’ I hop up the stairs, hair dye half on my head with Trouble and check out what they have seen. There does appear to be a something down the back of the bed, but I can’t see properly and ask Trouble to shine her phone light down the back of the bed so I can check it more closely.

At this point something moves and starts flying towards us, Trouble leaps off the bed and falls over the rucksack on the floor, ends up in a heap scrabbling for the door, which her mother has shut very firmly as she is not letting whatever is in there out. I realise at this point there is not one, but two very large hawk moths flying round the room and to be fair to Special K they are so huge they could easily be mistaken for bats. So with my big girl pants on I manage to catch them both and throw them out of the window. CrazyGran to the rescue !!!

I explained to Special K later that evening that if you leave the window wide open with the lights on, the chance of something finding its way in is very likely. Needless to say the windows are now all closed and bolted every night.

The Mousewheel

This story takes place last year whilst on holiday with Daughter #1, GC#1 Woozie (Aged23) and GC#8 Narnia (Aged 7) and great grandsons Baby B (aged 2) and Jiminy Cricket (aged six months).

We are all in a beautiful country park which consists of a number activities to partake including a nature trail, narrow gauge railway, bird park, paddling pool, kids road safety course for bikes and a huge playground. After watching Narnias super cycling skills, stopping at traffic lights, negotiating roundabouts and zebra crossings on her bike on the road safety course, we all decided to split up, so that everyone gets to do a bit of what they want.

Myself, Woozie, Baby B and Jiminy Cricket went off on the nature trail looking for the native bird species, followed by the bird park and paddling pool and Daughter #1 would stay with Narnia at the kids cycling road safety and we would all meet back at the play park before heading home.

All was going swimmingly well, we finished the nature trail, covered the bird park with lots of exotic birds, me entertaining the great grandchildren along the way with my impression of each one, when Daughter #1 calls to ask where we are. We explain that we are just heading back to the playground area and she tells us to meet her at the Mousewheel as Narnia is on it. I get very excited by this prospect and head off at a trot towards the Mousewheel having seen this ride before, absolutely dying to give it a go. Closely followed by Woozie declaring ‘ This I have got to see’

We get to the Mousewheel and Narnia is on it and asks me to get on. Well who could refuse? It looks really simple, hop in the wheel and keep walking. I give Narnia instructions not to go too fast as Gran is sixty and cannot go as fast as her.

At this point, Daughter #1 decides this is too good an opportunity to miss and gets out her mobile phone to video this great event of her mother and her daughter in the Mousewheel together. I hop in the wheel with Narnia and promptly realise I m nowhere near as fit as I thought I was. Narnia takes off at a gentle trot. Me on the other hand look like the road runner with my legs going twenty to the dozen, screaming my head off to slow down, I lose my footing, fall over and then end up looking like an old rag being thrown around in the washing machine.

Needless to say, I provide the entertainment for not just my own family, but every other person that was in the park that afternoon that had stopped to watch !!

One Hot Night........

So, one hot night some time a while back I had GC#3 (Trouble, aged 7) and GC#4 (Boudicia, aged 5) staying with me.

Now let me say when the pair of them are together, it can be a somewhat of a challenge to keep control, even for a veteran of five children of my own, as I am. To say that pack mentality comes in to play would probably be a bit of an understatement. Two against one this night, but I was prepared for it.

The plan was to keep them up late, make sure they are dog tired, so when they go to bed they flake out. On this night in particular, all went smoothly in getting them to bed. I then got in to my own bed to chill with a good book when it all started.

First off Boudicia comes in and asks for a drink. This will be because Trouble sent her in to test the water. In a very calm sweet tone I say, ‘Well pop down and get yourself a glass of water’. She duly does and hops back in to bed.

Five minutes later Boudicia is back in my room, ‘Trouble is kicking me’. I get out of bed and go in an and explain to Trouble that is not nice to kick, I know it is not ideal that you have to share a double bed at Grans house, but can you both keep to your own side of the bed and stop being naughty.

Quiet talking ensues for approx. ten minutes, which progressively gets louder and louder. I jump out of bed again, go storming in to their room and tell them to pipe down, stop messing about, and get to sleep. This process probably goes on for about 30 minutes, where I am in and out of bed, gradually losing the plot with both of them. I go in and throw one last Gran tantrum, get to sleep or else !!!

I know, I am supposed to be the adult here, but in my defence, I was tired and just needed sleep, it had been a long day. I then get back in to bed and it goes quiet. Ha I think that sorted it !!

Whilst patting myself on the back with getting the issue sorted with relative ease, I hear the patter of feet across the landing again and Boudicia arrives back at my beside. The conversation goes something like this

Me: OK what is it now?

Boudicia: It’s just too hot to sleep in these pyjamas, they have long sleeves

Me: Well you know, you could always take them off if you are too hot

Boudicia: Nooooo I cant sleep with no clothes on !! (Very indignant)

Me: OK, so what do you think the solution is? (all the good parenting books say you must let your children try to problem solve for themselves)

Boudicia: I don’t know

Me: OK I have a solution. Come here.

I promptly jump out of bed, take the nail scissors on the bedside table and cut off the sleeves and legs of the pyjamas, send her packing back to her bed to with a flea in her ear about she wont be hot now will she!!!

I can hear muffled giggling coming from both of them and I hear Trouble whisper ‘ OK I think we had better go to sleep now’.

All was well with this, until Daughter #2 arrived the next day and gave me a real ticking off for cutting up a pair of brand new pyjamas.

Sometimes Crazy Gran just goes a little bit too crazy and this was maybe just one of those times……….

Special K Moves In

One Sunday I get a call from GC#2 (Special K) who at this time is seventeen and still at college. ‘Gran can I come and see you?’

Now I am slightly suspicious of this and somewhat worried. Having always been an open all hours, for any type of problem type of Gran, I wonder what the heck he wants. The first thing that goes through my mind is that he is coming to tell me he has been sacked and wants to borrow money, not that he has ever been sacked before, and as far as I can see he has a good work ethic., but, ……I am trying to rack my brains as to what it could be.

He duly arrives, takes himself off to the toilet for a think and then plonks himself down in the chair in the living room. So, I wait……… And nothing!! I can now tell this is probably going to be a difficult conversation, so now my mind has moved from being sacked to drugs, or even worse, he has murdered someone!!!! I would like to point out that he has never been in to drugs or murdered anyone as far as I am aware, but, I do have a very vivid imagination.

He then starts by saying he loves me very much. Okay so now I know for definite he wants something and I am trying to think how much money this is going to cost. He follows this with ‘Can I move in with you’. I am a little stunned by this, but in the Crazy Gran way I run my life, I say ‘Of course you can, but there are rules, only a few, but rules that need to be adhered to'

1. Do not remove anything from this house that does not belong to you

2. Tidy up after yourself

3. Don’t skip school Only three rules.

Bear that in mind, only three rules !!!!!

OK brill he says and off he trots, saying he will be back later with his stuff. When he arrived back, his stuff consisted of two black bags full of clothes, a pair of rugby boots and an XBox. I can immediately see where this boys priorities are.

Over the course of the next few weeks we have a few little adjustments of living together, mainly me, I might add, as I have lived alone for decades and have become very used to my own company. But, being as I work in the day and he works at night in a bar, we soon became ships that passed at various times.

Until one day THE incident occurred……

Having left my phone charger at work I came home to find my other phone charger that normally lives downstairs had disappeared. Unlucky for Special K that evening, he walked in ten minutes later and I asked him where the charger was. I could tell from the way he is looking like a frightened rabbit in the headlights that he took it !!!

He eventually fesses up, he took it to work with him at lunch time and he is really really sorry but he has left it there. I flip out and remind him that there were only three rules and he has broken the first one. He promises to return it the next day.

The next day I toddle off to work and he goes to college. He rushes in at tea time with the said charger, still apologising. Credit where credit is due, he is good at apologising that boy. He proceeds to rush around like a headless chicken looking for his rugby boots as he has a charity rugby match at Bedford Blues ground.

Eventually he asks the question ‘Gran have you seen my rugby boots’ I answer with a one liner that says. ‘Yes Special K I have, I took them to work with me this morning and think I have left them there’

Crazy Gran 1 – Special K Nil

Don't Tell Your Mother

As most people that know me will tell you, I love a good garden centre bimble.

On this day in particular I throw the question out to all my daughters ‘Would any grand children like to come to the garden centre with me?’ I hear back shortly and only GC#5 Mister Blister (aged 5) at the time, has taken pity on Crazy Gran and decided he would like to come along for the ride. I suspect it was more like the fact that there is a restaurant in the garden centre and most visits to the garden centre also take a swing by the restaurant for coffee and cake in my case, or fizzy and cake in grandchild case.

I duly collect Mister Blister from his house, strap him in the car seat and set off to the garden centre. I get him out at the garden centre, telling him he needs to stay close and do as he is told.

We are wandering across the garden centre car park when for some reason he looks behind him and shouts to me that the car is rolling backwards down the slope !! In my haste, being the good diligent Crazy Gran, in seeing to Mr Blister getting out of the car, I forgot to put the handbrake on and now the car was rolling down the slope backwards in to a very large hedge that separates the garden centre from the local cricket ground.

Now I am in a panic, as I know I am going to have to abandon Mr Blister in the middle of the car park to race back to try and catch the car before it reaches the hedge. I just about manage to get in the car and put the handbrake on before it totally demolishes the hedge and ends up on the cricket pitch next door.

I race back to Mr Blister who is laughing his head off by this time. I gently explain that in some cases Crazy Grans do things that are really crazy, but please do not tell your mother.

I know that if he tells his mother she may think I am an irresponsible adult and might not allow me to take out my grandchildren unaccompanied ever again. I beg him ‘Please do not tell your mother’ We swing by the restaurant and I buy him the biggest piece of cake, in the hope that bribery will win. I don’t mention the incident again in the hope that he will have forgotten by the time we get back home.

I get him back home, he walks through the front door and says to his mother. ‘She is crazy, she got out of the car and when we walked away it rolled back in to a bush……………

Thanks a bunch Mr Blister !!!!!!!