Wednesday's Words for June 11, 2008

Our household is returning to normal—well, as normal as this household can be, at any rate. We ended the week having two young grandchildren here successfully, in that none of us was truly sick of the others when they went home.

I think the seven days just passed proved to be a tremendous learning experience, all around.

For example, I learned that the name of the ‘middle’ finger on the human hand has been changed, officially, to the ‘rude’ finger.

I learned that contrary to popular belief, a girly-girl granddaughter can be as enthralled with the female pursuits of make-up application and pedicures as she is with hunting for wild slimy creatures.

My granddaughter learned that her grandmother can yell really loud and does not like two foot-long garter snakes brought into the house and waved in front of her face.

I learned that how long a day seems to be is directly related to the mood of the children within the house. Ah, but this was a lesson previously well known, and somehow forgotten.

I don’t remember being quite as drained at the end of a day when my three small ones were running around. Of course, I was a quarter-century younger then, which may have something to do with that. I do know that I managed to balance three young children and a full time job, but not much else. My hat’s off to today’s mom who manages to balance a job and a family—especially those moms who then put in time each day or night working on a dream of some sort, be it writing, painting, or playing an instrument.

One thing I learned that warmed the little cockles of my grammar-loving heart. The children decided to make a banner for their mom’s return. I was asked how to spell ‘welcome’; but the little dears wrote “you’re the best” all by themselves and used the right ‘you’re’.

The best thing that happened over the course of this last week was that I re-discovered something I think I needed to re-discover. Kids are great. They’re fun, and energetic. They have ‘faith that can move mountains’. They can incorporate the words, “what if” into their vocabulary, followed by what we jaded adults would call some impossibility—and do it not only unselfconsciously, but often. They stay active all day, never tiring, rarely stopping before changing course. Little things—like heat, or bugs, or noise—don’t bother them in the slightest. They don’t let much get in the way of their good time. At the end of the day they fall asleep in moments, and sleep solidly through the night.

They don’t care if, in the course of their play, they get dirty or banged up a little. They don’t give a darn what their clothes look like, if their hair is brushed, or if their socks match. They can get mad, or cry, but it’s over quickly, usually with a minimal dose of TLC and a ‘there there’. And no matter how many times you’ve had to chase after them to pick up their toys, put their dirty clothes in the hamper, bring out their discarded popsicle wrappers, stop jumping on the furniture, quit teasing their brother/sister, not splash water out of the bath tub, not slam the door when they go outside, not stand there with the fridge open while they decide what to get—in short, no matter how many times you have to act like a grown up, they eagerly come and give you hugs and kisses goodnight.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I understand as never before those long ago words of my mother’s: don’t be in such a hurry to grow up; this is the best time of your life.

Love,
Morgan
Romance...with that extra bit of heat.
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