I am blessed to be the grandma of four young grandchildren:
Jack who is seven, is kind, helpful, tender, has a memory like a sticky trap (those of you who have vermin will know what this is) and is the most energetic child I know!
Lola is five and is very independent, speaks her mind, artistic, imaginative, stubborn, smart as a whip (those of you who have been “whipped” know how it smarts!) and witty. (She once spoke to her grandpa with an “attitude” and her mother said she was not to speak like that and to only speak nicely to her Grandpa and to apologize. After three minutes of total silence from her, she looks up and smiles and says to her gramps, “I am so lucky to have such a handsome grandpa”! No apology, but she did speak nicely to him. I swear I don’t know where she gets that from! LOL)
Avril is three and is model material. She is so beautiful, long blondish hair, with gentle curls at the end, blueish-green eyes, two big dimples and smiles all the time. She is coy, and will do anything her older siblings do, has a tremendous sense of balance (did not get that from my side of family!), has a giggle that makes you laugh whenever you hear it, physically tough, and can give you the “stink eye” if she wants something and you say, “No”. (That does come from my side of the family!)
Lastly, (though I hope not!) is Zane who just turned one this spring. He is all smiles, loud, loves to throw things, bites, (We call him Sunny Baudelaire from the Lemony Snickets movie) may grow up to be a drummer and like all my grands, prefers Grumpa over Babushka!
Yesterday the Wild Ones (as I lovingly call them) came to celebrate Father’s Day. I made a big pot of cheesy broccoli soup (I even roasted the broccoli first) and a banana cream pie and a butterscotch cream pie and did up all the dishes and vacuumed up the rug in the great room (where I try to keep Zane corralled since Heaven only knows what is on my bare floors) and so by the time they came, old grandma was pretty worn out.
Since getting my “old age” money, I have been buying the kids stuff every month to keep here and this month it was a pop-up house with a screen porch and it comes with a pop-up refrigerator and stove and little storage box. The sucker is ten feet long. And four or more feet wide. I got it so they could play in it out on our back deck. I had actually forgotten about it but Lola spied it behind the couch and pulled it out in the box and then began to take it out and try to set it up in my great room. The weather was nice outside so after it was up, Grandpa decided to take it out to the porch and set it up. Sounds great, yes? We brought out rugs, blankets pillows, chairs, dishes, etc. to get them all set up…..
And then the weather changes and the wind starts to blow and it starts to rain, so everyone is running in and out of the house bringing all the stuff back in including the house. I was attempting to move the stuff they were pitching in so we could get that house in and I stepped on a wooden block and it threw me off balance and I started careening toward my curio cabinet with the large glass doors
making weird noises along the way while my daughter looked on in what I can only describe as “humorous horror”. I always find it so amazing that I have the time to imagine what the pain is going to feel like when I finally hit the ground when I fall or in this case, what the damage will be to my body as I crash through the glass doors. Well, my guardian angel must have been on it’s toes because I was able to veer to the right and only just miss the cabinet. My daughter was laughing her fool head off and I am waving my arms like a robot (“Danger, Will Robinson, Danger”) and making sounds like I am in labor, trying to rid myself of the adrenaline rush from my near-death experience.
So we get the house in and back up right and the kids decide it would be so fun to “wear” the stove and refrigerator and to rip the Velcroed door off and then scream in mock terror at the person hiding in the appliances. Now, I am extremely laid-back in my parenting/grandparenting thinking about my possessions. I have only one or two things that have great sentimental value and those are out of harms way, the rest I could not care less about. So normally, the grands can pretty much do what they want and Babushka ain’t gonna care. But for some reason, I got semi-upset over the misuse of the pop-up appliances and the rough treatment they were getting so I was trying to gently tell the kids to please not wreck the stuff (cause I would hate to hurt their feelings) but my message wasn’t being clearly heard. And grandpa is just as bad at listening!
So the kids decide to change into their super hero costumes (my great room has a section that is full of kids stuff) and attack Grandpa. Now, mind you, this is in the room that is 24×20 and has a large table and chairs, a huge hutch, a large curio cabinet with glass doors, a piano, a couch, two big chairs, an ottoman, a library table filled with plants, two tables with lamps on them and all the kids toys PLUS now a 10×4 tent house smack dab in the middle. Doesn’t leave a whole lotta room for wrestling.
(Photo was taken on a different day….notice there is no GIANT tent in the middle of the room)
So in the course of the super heroes trying to take down the bad guy, someone knocks over my large outdoor/indoor umbrella and it just misses my head by an inch.
And my daughter says, “Maybe we should leave before you guys kill Gramma.”I always figured either my stupid dog would kill me (now it is even worse, since I have to have throw rugs down so he can walk better but he still walks like his back legs are on ice and has to follow me everywhere so he is more dangerous than before and he tried to bite me last week but he is a post for another day) or housework (as I did have the canister vacuum fall on my head as I was vacuuming the stairs awhile ago) but now me thinks maybe a grand will take me out!And today my house looks like it has been “GRANDALIZED” (the new term I just made up for how your house looks after your grandkids have been there!)The dishes are piled up on the sink, the furniture is still moved, the house-tent is still up in the middle of the room, and all grandma wants to do is lay on the couch in the lower living room and watch a movie. I hate to admit it but it takes me days to recover…..and to put the house back to it’s normal level of disarray, dirt and clutter!But in a couple of days, I will be texting my daughter to see if they need a date night and that old Grandma is up for a stay-over-night that will include Zane for the first time and I will gladly suffer the mess and the stress (I find as I get older and more recluse, I don’t tolerate noise and commotion the way I used to and too much talking or listening wears me out emotionally) and miss them when they are gone.
Yes, I am one blessed grandma and I count every visit as a gift (plus it gives me stuff to write about afterward!).
May you all be so blessed,
Your Babushka Queen