I have a hard time finding cards for my mom; specifically cards from the kids. First of all, she’s “GramPam,” not “Grandma” or “Nana,” and certainly not “Grandmother.” Every card “from the grandkids” always has something like a cat wearing a bonnet and glasses and knitting, which couldn’t be a worse representation of GramPam. I’ve yet to find a card that truly suits her, for any occasion. Then again, maybe it’s not my fault. GramPam doesn’t exactly fit the Grandma mold. Traditionalist that I am, even I’m glad she doesn’t.

This picture is in need of explanation. My mom is the team leader for a huge group of realtors. I don’t know how she does her job. I don’t have the patience, energy, or tolerance. The fun part of her job includes planning activities and outings for her realtors, their clients and families. GramPam decided to rent out Pump It Up, only the month got away from her, and the activity wasn’t well publicized. This wasn’t a problem, at least for my kids, because they virtually had the place to themselves and it happened to coincide with our visit to Nashville. For the record, GramPam would have gone down the slide even if the place was packed.

If you needed further evidence that I’m often hard-pressed to find appropriate cards…

While in Nashville, we spent a good chunk of our time at the lake. There are several lakes near my parents’ house. They have an old pontoon boat that to put it mildly, and in Alex’s terms, “is in need of a little work,” and they also have two wave runners that are much easier to ready, tow, and launch. So, on Saturday we took the wave runners to a lake and played around for a few hours. That was supposed to be it for water sports, but Alex decided we were going again on Sunday. There is a lake my parents were interested in exploring, so we drove over there rented a boat for the day, and took the wave runners along. We had a really good time and were barely able to get the kids out of the water. In case you’re wondering, those wetsuits have built in life jackets. In addition to making the kids look like they participate in extreme sports, they are functional.

We made our traditional Nashville eating rounds, and my stomach is still recovering. I forgot it has a fried food capacity and fried pickles push the envelope. We made our usual stop at Opry Mills Mall, and Meredith told us over and over again how “happy the mall makes her.” Ugh.

I also had dinner with my good friend Stephanie. I met her for dinner on my wedding anniversary, but since Brandon didn’t fly in until 9:00 p.m. and I wait for no one to eat, Steph made a fine stand in.

Aside from those adventures, we hit Sonic nearly every day for happy hour. Can you beat ½ price Cherry-Limeades?! I think not. For whatever reason, the kids wanted me to park in the same spot each time. That was a little embarrassing, but paled to Brandon instructing me to order an “RT 44,” sized drink for him. I did, only to be informed by a girl with a thick drawl enhanced by a loud speaker, that it was in fact, a “Route 44.” I thought I heard snickers in the background. I know I heard them in our car.