I watched our two little grandsons yesterday….bliss…except for a little snag in the post lunch clean up. It seems a certain three year old thinks its funny to throw things across the room instead of handing them to the adult in charge…that doesn’t fly well with the boss so as Lola went to retrieve the cloth, which had actually landed in the garbage can slot….2 points?…no…the guilty was deposited in time out.
When Rachel left, I had one sitting in a corner crying and one standing at the front door knocking on the glass and …. crying…..
The one in timeout was wailing for Mommy to stay and the one at the glass can’t talk, but the “mmmammmammmam”, between the tears and the pacifier dangling from his teeth, gave the whole source of misery away.
No offense to mom, but the tears did end with a bit of distraction. With some swooping up and the dispensing of hugs and just general outpouring of love, we were all fine again.
Nap for the littlest and snack for the oldest helped.
Yes. We had a few banilla wafers and we ate them sitting on a little piece of carpet in the kitchen.
And as we sat there munching three cookies each (cause he’s three, and my hips and thighs thought using my age for the count would be a bit too many calories)……it was my turn….to cry….
The tears just kind of came as I thought how simple it was to turn the tears around when you have someone older and loving to sit beside you and dispense kisses and hugs and just talk about what you want to talk about. And eat cookies with you.
To be honest…I wanted someone to give me a hug and tell me that, while things are not exactly the way I would like them to be, it’s all going to be ok.
I needed to not BE a mom….or a grandma…I needed to be a child.
Now before you judge….I love being both….but I was feeling worn and weary…I get that way. I have seen a lot and I know in my gut there will be more to see….stuff that is hard and ugly.
And I want for just a little while to be in that kind of world where a one minute time out is the worst thing that can happen and a hug and a kiss can make a booboo better.
And I want a better world for the little guy who holds my hand while we eat banilla wafers and then helps me pick up our crumbs.
So I thank God for being a Father. A Father who stoops down to my humanity and frailness and weariness. I thank God for kisses and hugs, sometimes through those He has put in my life and that sometimes through a song, or a verse, or a meditation, or an email or….whatever method He chooses to remind me that….forever and always….He is mine and….glory of glories, wonder of wonders….I …. am…. His <3