Ah, Valentine’s Day. It’s when everyone seems to see the world through rose-colored glasses, spends a little extra, and tries to capture love with heart-shaped treats, flowers, and, if you’re lucky, a dinner reservation that doesn’t cost three times as much. But before Instagram roses and fancy dinners, Valentine’s Day was much more mysterious, a bit odd, and sometimes even downright peculiar.

What do you think squirrels, snacks, and storytime have in common?

At first glance, I am guessing you are saying "not much." But on a chilly afternoon, by chance, my grandson and I looked out the front window and saw a squirrel racing up the trunk of a barren oak tree, cheeks full, stashing its winter goodies in a hidden nook. Right there, with a busy squirrel, a simple snack in our hands, and a story waiting to be told, ordinary time turned into something unforgettable.

What do New Year's resolutions and an airport have in common?  You cannot “think” your way to the destination. Eventually, you have to board.

I am guessing that you are a lot like me; our New Year’s resolutions sound great in the safety of January. Drink more water. Lose 10 pounds. Walk more steps. Don’t get me wrong, those are good goals, but those resolutions that change you, really, really change you, are rarely comfortable.

Last Saturday, I found a tiny blue brick in my slipper—proof that my grandson had been here, engineering at dawn. When he tumbled back in after lunch, he didn’t say hello; he said, “Carma, watch!” and unveiled a wobbly tower with a dragon on top and a cheese slice at the bottom (apparently, dragons’ snack between rescues). We didn’t plan a lesson or a masterpiece. We just sat on the rug, traded pieces like secrets, and built a world where ladders lead to giggles, and every bump can be rebuilt. Ten minutes later, we had a “museum,” two blurry photos, and a story we’ll retell for years: the day the dragon ate the cheddar and saved the city anyway.

The holidays are over, and by now you’ve probably seen that those precious, must-have toys start to break or be relegated to a closet shelf.

We know, stuff breaks. We also know that memories stick. So, if you’re a Modern Grand who wants fewer plastic parts and more sparkle-in-their-eyes moments, experience gifts are your secret super tool. The great part about it is that it’s affordable, easy to pull off, and doesn’t have to be tied only to “official” celebrations.

What?! It's December already! Where did those last 11 months go?

I know, I know, it happens every year—December sneaks in wearing a cozy sweater and carrying a mile-long to-do list. While our world rushes toward year-end sales, holiday menus, and half-finished resolutions, I have been thinking about what to do differently with my grandkids.

We could talk about homemade gifts and gingerbread houses, which we do every year. But what I really want to know from him is what made his heart beat faster this year? What did he learn? What does he hope for?

Winter break: those endless days off school—back in our day, anyway. You have probably heard this a thousand times; our winters included the legendary walk "one mile, in the snow, uphill both ways." But if I have to be honest, winter break in 2025 is nothing like our rosy, frostbitten memories. This post is a blend of nostalgia, gentle ribbing, and serious advice for parents and grandparents alike—let's help kids today enjoy a break without the stress of social media, Zoom homework, or perfectionism.

I have a question for you. Have you ever stared at your phone, wondering whether to send that “just checking in” text to your grown kids, knowing full well they might not answer? If so, then pull up a chair. You’re in good company.

I’ve been there, too. I send the message, maybe toss in a meme for flair… and then? Crickets. And yet, I keep doing it. Every day. Not because I'm desperate for attention, but because I'm an intentional grandmother. And whether they respond or not, I want my kids to know: I'm here, I'm watching (not in a creepy way), and I still care.