BEING A GRAMPA…AGAIN

We have 16 grandkids, with perhaps more on the way. The first few were novelties, if I dare would call them that, for to Grandma, they’re all darlings. I’d like to call them all that, however, they are like me, they have their moments when things get a little grumpy.

Then came the day, over two years ago last June, when one of our grandkids and her mother and her mother’s cat, came to live with us. Our lifestyle would never be the same.

Money formerly spent for a new computer or an extra house payment or a better car was now going for baby clothes, special types of food, disposable diapers, playpens, baby swings, cat food, cat litter and on and on, with no end in sight. Still, with all the expense, there are some pluses. I am remembering what it was like when our own kids were young and we were young parents.

We have passed through up all night screaming, to teething, to countless diaper changes, to sitting up, to first steps, to learning to behave in Church, to potty training, to doctor’s visits, to exhaustion by day’s end. Just the usual, run of the mill parenting challenges that old guys like me don’t usually face. Yet, with all of this and more, these are the easy days. What about her first day of school? Learning unacceptable behavior from classmates? The wonders of adolescence; and, heaven help us, the teenage years?

Our youngest granddaughter, Makayla, (or Kayla or Kay for short) is two years and four months old and follows us around the house, saying “why” to everything and putting together words that come out like real sentences, such as: “Where going, Papa? What doing? Papa, wait! Water please. Cookie please. Pizza please.” Her latest when she gets what she wants is, “Tank you…cool!

Our TV room is cluttered with endless boxes of toys. She follows her mother around like they were glued at the hip. She puts up with Grampa and adores Grandma and has her very own time out seat for when her behavior is less than expected. She travels with us to the store in her second car seat, she grew out of the first, and knows very well what McDonald’s and fries are.

Kay knows the name of her cousins too and aunts and uncles and after batting her long eyelashes, she can melt your heart. I can’t stay irritated at her for long and have learned a couple very important lessons from her examples. Since her memory is short, and she holds no grudges, she spends much of her day forgiving others and singing to herself, like we should do.