October 20, 2021
As October continues to play
out, we have begun our seasonal chores for autumn. This past week, David spent
the first of what I am certain will be several afternoons blowing and then
bagging leaves. He exchanged the “summer porch furniture” for the fall and
winter set. He also removed the covering he had on our porch floor this year—artificial
grass. I didn’t care for that myself, but the porch is very rough concrete, and
since we often have kids on it, we thought it might be a good idea to have
something there. Along with the chairs, in the spring and summer our porch also
has what looks like a doll bed, but which our daughter’s dogs use as their own
porch chair. But only in the good weather, and she bought it because her dogs
eschew laying on floors of any kind.
Sometimes it’s just my
daughter and my husband doing the bulk of the outside work. And sometimes, as
they did last evening, they have helpers.
Yesterday, being Tuesday, was
the day that our daughter has her two grandchildren come for a while, after school.
They stay for supper, and then she takes them home just before eight. And
yesterday, we had an extra little one here, her great-niece and the youngest of
our four great-grandchildren.
So yes, we did indeed have
three little ones aged 8, 7 and 2 and a half with us yesterday. I love them, of
course. I’m grateful that I get to see the three of them as often as I do.
Being a great-grandparent isn’t as clear-cut a position as that of being a grandparent
was. We are one step back from our previous role, and that is probably good for
us, because we are that much older now, with that much less energy than fifteen
years ago, when we helped care for our two youngest grandchildren.
Our second daughter worried
some about us, when we had her two children here quite often while she was
getting established in her nursing career. Shiftwork, in that profession, is
inevitable, and until the children were old enough to be left on their own
overnight, they would be either here, or with a former neighbor of theirs, from
the days when they were apartment dwellers in the city next to us.
We had beds and dressers
upstairs for them, so that they had a place to sleep on their overnights here.
I would waken them in the morning, make them breakfast and help them get them
ready for school. Their mom would come, and then take them to school before
going home to bed. And she worried, as I said, that the kids were too much for
us, but we didn’t think they were. And I’d remind her that she had her former
neighbors, too, who would have the kids during some of her weekend shifts, so
it wasn’t all on us.
That couple was just a bit
younger than we were and had developed a good bond with the kids, and her. Our second
daughter will be the first one to declare that yes, it takes a village, and that
she remains grateful she had a good one.
All of my greatgrandchildren that
live close by call me G.G. It’s a name that my daughter came up with, because
her grandchildren had another great grandmother on their mother’s side. I kind
of like the name, myself.
Yesterday afternoon, we had
those three little ones here, and they were assigned winter preparation tasks
in the back yard while my daughter supervised. After having harvested one last
meal of green beans earlier in the afternoon, it was time to call an end to the
gardening season for 2021. All of the plants were pulled from the table gardens,
cut up, and placed into those brown leaf and yard waste bags. The outside toys
needed to be washed, and then set to dry in their clean “toy basket”, which is
a re-purposed laundry basket.
The littlest one was the most
eager to lend a hand. “I help!” was said quite succinctly and often until the
perfect “job” was found for her. She was assigned the task of washing the toys.
And since playing in the water is something that she loves to do, she was a
happy little camper, and she did a pretty good job for being only two and a
half.
It was pleasant outside, so I
had the back door open as I worked in the kitchen to prepare supper. I’d
consulted with my daughter earlier in the day, with regard to the menu. Her grandkids
are picky little eaters. The littlest one is not. The older two been here with
us this past weekend and we’d had takeout with the two of them on Saturday
night, and then grilled burgers on Sunday night. Therefore, I chose to make a
full supper last night.
My daughter suggested
something she thought they might eat—chicken Alfredo. I had all the necessary
ingredients on hand. She, being vegan, would have only the noodles and the sauce.
She was originally going to have some plant-based “chicken fingers” as well but
changed her mind. Since my husband doesn’t like the dish at all, it wasn’t much
more work to make spaghetti and meatballs for the two of us.
I also made a bit of garlic
bread to go with the pasta, and that is another thing she thought her
grandchildren would enjoy. And after their time in the backyard, which topped
off their long day at school, it made me smile to see that all three kids
cleared their plates.
I do enjoy having them here,
and I am doing my best to get used to the sheer noise of them. One’s tolerance
for general chaos seems to wane as one ages. But the truth is that the chaos of
children—from high spirits to minor disagreements that seem so egregious to a
child, are all a part of the package. Being older, I know now just how damned fast
time passes and little ones grow up.
Every part of the experience
of being in the company of children is precious—and it was wonderful to have
that back door open as I cooked, listening to the songs, and the laughter, and the
minor conflicts.
It was wonderful to steep
myself in life.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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