April 26, 2009

PushMe PullYou

The young grandsons were here last night, and it was like living a young woman's life, with children pushing me one direction and pulling me another, all while trying to get the laundry done. I gave up on grading. And warning: this is a gooey Grandma post.

My husband and I have communicated in bytes of sound this weekend, shorthand for the lengthier phrases we'd usually use. Our floor is strewn with our children's toys: Nerfuls, Little People (the good, old ones, now only available on eBay or at garage sales), a box of Matchbox cars. I found a toy truck in the bed this morning when I made it.

But Alex agreed to be my Kiss-A-Roo this morning. And Andrew, teeny-tiny Andrew, gives me big smiles when I say hi as he runs around the kitchen-hallway-living room-dining room circuit.

When they leave, I can grade again, speak in whole sentences again, but I can't get sticky hugs and kisses, a request like this one: "Let's have a little chat, Grandma," or Andrew's elation at climbing backwards UP the slide. The little boys remind me that little things matter.

1 comment:

  1. How nice! A week with grandma was one of my favourite things as a child. I miss her! And thankfully I knew her really well because of the sleepovers.