I Can't Imagine WHY He Likes To Come To Our House

Can you?

Don't forget about Try It Tuesday tomorrow! Start writing that post today and get ready to sign Mr. Linky any time after midnight tonight.

This Could POSSIBLY Be Why He Likes To Come To My House. Possibly.

Yeah. I'm thinking that's it. For sure.

Growing Up On Mars

OK, the strangest thing is happening. Wes is growing up. It seems like just a very few months ago that he was in the NICU at the hospital, a minuscule 2-pound miracle that we all prayed over until he came home with a little monitor we had to keep plugged in when we were baby-sitting to make sure he was still breathing. And didn't our hearts stop when it started beeping, even though it was always a loose connection or a momentary lapse. Now he's almost two and he is turning into a real person. He is talking. OK, some babbling like he's from Mars, but now and then we actually get something understandable. His parents get a lot more understandable stuff but, at our house, it has to be Earth language for us to get it.

The other day I took him to the grocery and, while we were there, I got him a box of animal crackers. He was working on them in the car seat on the way home and, all of a sudden, I heard a little voice piping "My milk? My milk? My milk?" The boy wanted milk with his cookies and he was telling me.

Then, we were looking through kid's books at Goodwill and I idly held one out to him. "Do you want the duck book?" I didn't really expect an answer. I often talk to him and don't really expect an intelligible answer. But he leaned forward, looked carefully at the duck book, looked up at me and said "No." Then he proceeded to keep looking through the other books.

I fixed dinner for him and began making macaroni and cheese. "Macaroni and cheese" I crowed to him, because I know he likes macaroni and cheese. He grinned at me and did a little dance, singing very clearly "Cheese! Cheese! Cheese!"

And, of course, it goes without saying that he can clearly say "Read book? Read book? Read book?"

Did you really expect any less from the grandson of a librarian?


He was reading with Tom the other day and we got a whole, entire, understandable sentence out of him. It was very strange. Good. But strange.


We are looking forward to a whole new era.

“Grandchildren are God's way of compensating us for growing old.”

-Mary H. Waldrip

I thought I understood how the other grandmother felt. How it must be so difficult for her, being so far away from her only grandchild. Only seeing him a few times a year. I put myself in her position and felt her pain and sorrow and my heart hurt for her. Or so I thought.

This weekend, she was in town for a visit. We didn't get to see Wes at all. Liz posted some photos on her blog yesterday. The other grandmother with the perfect boy. I have spent a lot of time with him this summer, so I feel especially close to him right now. Even more so than usual. And when I saw her holding him in her lap, I felt...sad is not a strong enough word. Anguish. Pain. My heart literally hurt in my chest. It HURT. I don't feel jealous. It's not that kind of pain. I am willing to share him. I know it's good for him to have lots of people who think he is the most perfect child on earth. But I missed him. I wanted to touch his face. Kiss his cheek and his neck. Hear him laugh. And it hurt that I couldn't.

And that's how she feels. Every day. Every single day.

I thought I understood how the other grandmother felt. But I was stupid. Stupid. I was smug in my understanding of her pain. I realize now I had no idea. I'm so sorry, Alice.

Wild Kingdom

A variety of interesting wildlife visited our house this weekend. They were all encased in the shape of a little blond boy with huge blue eyes and a gap-toothed smile that can melt your heart in an instant. Our grandson. Or, as he is more commonly known, super pancake boy.

You know those river otters that eat 20% of their weight in food every day? Well, I'm proud to say we have our own little river otter. That boy can eat more pancakes than I can. And if I don't keep 'em coming, he emits an ear-piercing howl like a wild hyena. HURRY UP! I'M STARVING HERE! When he finishes breakfast, his belly is as tight and smooth as an African drum. An African drum that is full of pancakes.

Liz brought him over a little earlier than planned for his overnight visit and I was out of town, having lunch and shopping with my mom. So, grandaddy had to take over. He is not used to keeping him when I am not there, but he stepped up to the plate and did an annoyingly great job. Except for the one diaper incident. He had it fastened on perfectly and tightly - backward. I kind of thought when I arrived, he would be weeping and have his hands buried in his hair, going "Oh, my God, woman, thank the good Lord you have arrived. I just can't manage him without you. HOW DO YOU DO IT?" But I got no such satisfaction. When I arrived, he was sitting in the middle of the floor, in the midst of pandemonium, looking just a little bit tired. Wes had every toy he owned strewn in the family room and kitchen and was happily playing with the kitchen towels, draping them on his head, like a happy little chimpanzee.

The birds arrived in the night. He went to bed and to sleep beautifully, but at about 10:00 while we were downstairs watching tv, the nursery monitor began to broadcast a sound not unlike that of a loon. Aaaa-ooooohhhh. Aaaaa-ooohhh. And this was obviously coming from between teeth clenched around a pacifier. It didn't stop so we got him up, changed his diaper and rocked him a little bit. This is one of the very few times where he is actually relaxed, curled in your arms, head on your shoulder like a furry little marmoset. It's lovely.

He went back to bed and we slept very well until about 4:30. When the nursery monitor in the bedroom indicated there was an owl in his room. Hoo. Hoo. Hoo. Hoo. Hooooooooooo. Again, the sound came through clenched teeth. The last time he slept over, I actually got him up at 4:30 when he woke up because, well, I'm his Mimi and I thought he was ready to get up. And because, basically, he rules our lives. I admit it. I am not ashamed. This time, I decided to wait it out. He never really cried. Just hooted for a few minutes. Then went back to sleep until 7:00 when we both got up with no problem.

I have a mobile over his crib, hanging from the ceiling so he can't reach it. It's bright colored stars and moons made of ceramic. He never seems to notice it until I pick him up, then he wants to touch it and make it move. Like a raven attracted to something bright and shiny, he insists on touching it when he is picked up. And I let him. Why not? He likes it. Refer to above paragraph to explain why.

He's asleep now, taking a morning nap after a morning spent ransacking the place like a rampaging tiger. I just checked on him. He's completely relaxed, his hair ruffled from play, cheeks pink, lips slightly parted. He's an angel. Or maybe a hibernating bear cub. I expect he will wake up at any time and demand a huge snack, like the aforementioned bear waking up from a long winter's sleep.

The menagerie is a lot of work. But we enjoy the menagerie. They can come over any time.

Hey, Mimi, LOOK!

When my grandson, Wesley, was born, my friend Vicki gave me a little pillow that says "When a Child is Born, So is a Grandmother". Luckily, that job comes with a Tonka truck full of patience, because I needed it this weekend. Wesley came to stay for the night. Now, he IS only 15 months old, so he can't exactly talk yet (although Tom and I swear he said Tatooine the last time we had him - we think he's going to be a big Star Wars fan.) so keep in mind that everything in italics is only in my mind. Or maybe his too. One never knows.

Mimi, look, I can open the front door!
Look, Mimi, look, I can close the front door!
Hey, hey, hey, Mimi, I can open the front door!
And, you might have missed it - look, I can close the front door!
Oh, wow, LOOK I CAN OPEN THE FRONT DOOR!

Hey, Mimi, you know those two stools you had loosely arranged in front of the doorway so I couldn't get to the hall and living room? You know how those worked last week when I was so much smaller? Not so much now. Look, I can crawl right under this one! Look, Mimi, my head fits right under here! Look how fast I can walk, Mimi! Wow, this paper tears really easily, doesn't it??

Mimi, chase me! Mimi, catch me and tickle my belly! Kiss my neck and blurble it and make me shriek! Mimi, nibble my leg and make me laugh. Mimi, chase me! Mimi? Mimi, why are you lying on the floor? Get up and play with me!

No, I don't want that pacifier! No, no, no, no, no! I know what that means! That means I'm supposed to take a nap. No, no, no, no, no, no. Wow, Mimi, that really hit the wall hard didn't it? Man, I can can really thrown, can't I, Mimi? Don't I look sweet when I am sleeping, Mimi?

Yes, I want those yogurt covered raisins. Yum, yum, yum. I want some in each hand. I wonder how many I can fit in my mouth at one time? I wonder if I can fit both hands in there too? Hey, Mimi, look, I can!

Look, Mimi, I can put this toy in the tub! And this one! And this one! Look how high I can splash the water, Mimi! Splash, splash, splash! Aw, do I have to get out now, Mimi? Do I have to get dressed? I like to run around naked, Mimi!

Good morning, Mimi! I am so glad to see you. See this smile? See how sweet I am? Yeah, it's still dark outside, but let's play! And I'm hungry! Can I have some pancakes???

Look, Mimi, look at this toy! Look, Mimi, I can get this one out too! Look, Mimi, I can get out more toys! Look, Mimi, I can get EVERY SINGLE TOY out of my toy basket! Wow, Mimi, look how many toys I have! Look, they are all over the living room! Hey, Mimi, can you get the Tupperware bowls out for me? And the big plastic spoon? 'Cause I have nothing to play with, Mimi.

Look, Mimi, it's Mommy and Daddy! Mimi, why are you so sleepy? Are you going to take a nap now? You can borrow my pacifier, if you want.

I love you too, Mimi. I'll see you soon.

Please Forward to Heaven

To: Tom and Wilma R.
Address: Heaven
From: Your daughter-in-law

Hello, you two. I'm glad you are finally together. Wilma, I know you missed your husband very much for those few years you had left on Earth after he moved on. We were glad you stayed, though. Your son needed you after his dad died. You got to see a lot of the events in our lives. Graduations, holidays, a wedding. I'm just so sorry you missed seeing your great-grandson born. You just missed it by a few months. I hope you were both watching from up there. 'Cause he is pretty wonderful.

We appreciate the fact that we never once, in all the years the kids were growing up, paid a babysitter. You all were their baby-sitters. You adored both of them and treated them like little royal children come by for a visit.

We couldn't have bought our first house if it weren't for you two helping us with the downpayment. And I wouldn't be a teacher now if you hadn't paid our mortgage for us while I had to take time off work to student teach. You paid our day care bills for years when we couldn't stretch our finances any further. You bought our children shoes and clothes.

We had some wonderful meals at your house. Wilma, I have managed to duplicate your peanut butter fudge and caramel frosting but we will never again have gravy like you made it. Tom, how come your grilled out steaks tasted so much better than ours? Wilma bought me the most beautiful peignoir set I have ever owned. Tom changed the oil in my car.

I have your china displayed in your china cabinet and your silver and we use it on every holiday. We are taking good care of your house. We get together there for meals served on your dining room table. Liz has your mother's china cabinet and her china and treasures it. I have your mother's silver saved for Mark. We appreciate and love these family heirlooms.

I hope you are happy. I think you are. I can't imagine Heaven any other way. We miss you. I wish you could hold Wesley and smell his head and his neck. He smells so indescribably good.

We will see you again someday. And, by the way, if you see my dad? Give him a hug for me.