I'm Back

What a week it was last week. Our oldest daughter and her two kids came to visit. Our youngest and her 9-month-old were here to mix in and our son's newest arrival was visited as he completed his second week in the family. We water-parked, ate, zooed, ate, swam, ate, napped, ate, and we had some really good meals. I fixed breakfast most mornings, we "sandwiched" for lunch most days, and had some really fine shrimp and pasta, peasant pasta, leftover pasta..my eldest really likes pasta.

But here is my favorite part. At one time or another I had good alone time with each grandkid. Each is in a different stage and brings out different feelings wrapped around different activities.

Eli is just fun to be around. He is not a little boy anymore. He is action and movement. We love to play golf together. He brought his sticks and even though it was rainy all week, we managed to get in one good afternoon at the local middle school and play a 9-hole, par-3 course in north Dallas. We do not keep score. It isn't that he can't hit the green on his tee shot, he does. In fact, we have a little side game where if he hits the green on his tee shot I give him a dollar. It usually costs me about $2 per 9 holes. But he insists on putting out...11 strokes later. I'm not sure I would have the patience for that at a younger age. But at this age, we just laugh about all the strokes and I praise him to high heaven for the shots getting there. But he loves carrying his clubs, and cleaning the club after every shot, EVERY SHOT. It slows the game just a little. His mind begins to wander after 7 or 8 holes, so 9 holes is perfect. I have found that everything is negotiated. He has developed a little habit of wanting to hit additional shots off the tee, to "see if he can get it on the green" then we have a negotiating conference all the way to the green regarding whether the second shot counted (he says it does, I say it doesn't) I usually negotiate him down from a $1 to a Sonic drink..which then turns into a negotiation about whether it is soft drink or a chocolate milk shake. He never realizes that my job, my career is negotiating, he has no chance, none, I've been trained and tested in the business world...until he says, "Please Grandaddy" Sigh. I lose every time.

Phoebe is the dancer, the singer, a mop of curls and grins, and a little spitfire personality. But here is where this old grandaddy's heart gets captured every time. When she wakes up from sleeping, nap or night, it makes no difference. She may be the most tender, warmest human being on earth. She comes in with those reddish curls all atangle, blanket in tow and climbs up in my lap and snuggles in close. The world goes away. It is our cocoon of love and safety and heart bonding. I cannot get enough of it. She will watch from our sanctuary as the day livens up and for a few short moments is content to sit with her grandaddy. It will break my heart when she decides she is too old for this moment.

Our 9-month-old Lincoln has turned from what I thought was a serious little NICU baby into quite a charmer. He has the most infectious smile I have ever seen. Occasionally I look around a room of adults all trapped in exercise of trying to get him to smile. It is not hard, it is simply addictive. His favorite joke is my daughter trying to get him to ask for "more" ( fingers made into a cone, then touching the tips of the fingers on the opposing hands together) He laughs, which makes all of us laugh, then bangs the highchair tray with the flat of his hand. His daddy thinks it is hilarious, we all laugh, his momma gets that funny laugh that means she is trying to teach him something and finds the rest of us no help at all. I'm telling you that boy is going to be a handful when he gets older.

The new addition we don't know quite as well yet. But there is something about holding him while he sleeps that tends to bond us. I love watching him, wondering who he will trun out to be. He is creating a bit of angst with his non-feeding habits, and wearing his parents out with his lack of schedule, but he is loved by all, prayed over by all, and will figure it out. My son and I have had several conversations about how to adapt to all this. The most prevalent parenting philosophy is "trial and error" more error right now than anything else. What I have gently tried to convey is the slate gets wiped clean with the second one and most of the knowledge gets tossed because the second will be different. What you get to keep is the knowledge that it will work out. As parents we all live with the guilt of our ignorance. I can't wait to hold him again.

What does the future hold? I have no idea. If these are the only ones..I'm good. If there are more, I'm good. I can't wait to take Eli, Lincoln, Isaac to play golf. Of course, I will have to recruit their non-golfing daddies as wranglers. Then there is the three-fold negotiations..they won't all be as good at it as Eli will they?

Godspeed. This grandaddy is stunned that these blessings are so available. Who would'a thunk it?
Don