jujube
SF VIP
My granddaughter and two great-granddaughters (4 years old and 11 months old) swung by yesterday morning and spent the night. They drove down from Ohio for a month to visit relatives.
What a wonderful time was had by all but I feel like I've been beaten with a ball bat. There's a really good reason why 72-year-olds don't have babies. I have the greatest, absolutely the greatest, admiration for the grandmas and great-grandmas who step up and raise their offspring's offspring. I'd do it if I had to, but I'm glad I don't have to. I like sending them home after I've spoiled the dickens out of them.
Chasing a highly-mobile 11-month-old around a house that's insufficiently baby-proofed is a Herculean task. But it's one I'd glad to take on for a few days. I haven't seen them for almost nine months and the 4-year-old had nine months worth of things to tell me. The 11-month-old had several words for me, too: up, down, yeah, no, hot-hot-hot, bottle, stop! were a few.
I was singing to the 4-year-old in the rocking chair before bed and she surprised me by asking for a song I had sung to her 9 months ago and even sang some of the words along with me. This morning, she said, "Thank you, Meemaw, for singing to me. It made me feel good and made me sleep good." I almost cried. The 9-month-old wasn't impressed and just wanted down for another try at disassembling something.
Now that things are dying down a little, I'll be having the other set of little 'uns (4 and 7) in my care quite a bit. This is the first summer we've stayed home in ten years and they're looking forward to spending a lot of time with us. I've been isolating pretty strictly for the last couple of months because of the surgeries and the possibility of having to take care of my 95-year-old mother.
What a wonderful time was had by all but I feel like I've been beaten with a ball bat. There's a really good reason why 72-year-olds don't have babies. I have the greatest, absolutely the greatest, admiration for the grandmas and great-grandmas who step up and raise their offspring's offspring. I'd do it if I had to, but I'm glad I don't have to. I like sending them home after I've spoiled the dickens out of them.
Chasing a highly-mobile 11-month-old around a house that's insufficiently baby-proofed is a Herculean task. But it's one I'd glad to take on for a few days. I haven't seen them for almost nine months and the 4-year-old had nine months worth of things to tell me. The 11-month-old had several words for me, too: up, down, yeah, no, hot-hot-hot, bottle, stop! were a few.
I was singing to the 4-year-old in the rocking chair before bed and she surprised me by asking for a song I had sung to her 9 months ago and even sang some of the words along with me. This morning, she said, "Thank you, Meemaw, for singing to me. It made me feel good and made me sleep good." I almost cried. The 9-month-old wasn't impressed and just wanted down for another try at disassembling something.
Now that things are dying down a little, I'll be having the other set of little 'uns (4 and 7) in my care quite a bit. This is the first summer we've stayed home in ten years and they're looking forward to spending a lot of time with us. I've been isolating pretty strictly for the last couple of months because of the surgeries and the possibility of having to take care of my 95-year-old mother.
