I was feeling blue Sunday afternoon, kind of down and in a funk. That changed.
We had our son’s family coming for dinner but before they arrived I was standing out front talking with a neighbor from down the street when they got a text from their 14-year old daughter (meant for their 14-year old daughter’s friend) sent to them by mistake. I won’t go into the details except to say the text said “my effin’ parents won’t bring me over right away” (this after she had just called asking their whereabouts and learned they were visiting with us.) We were all set back a bit (she’s a sweet girl just starting to get an attitude) and then started laughing as her dad had a little more than his share of fun by texting back “and now your effin’ parents won’t be taking you at all” (before adding a few more words about how she was now being grounded and such). It took me back to when my sweet wonderful and hormonal boy-child (Sarcasm? Never!) was 14 years old himself, or thereabouts, and he wrote “YOU SUCK” in huge letters with shaving cream on our sidewalk making me exert days of energy finding out who the culprit was (since he denied any wrong doing of course). I smelled a fish … or an Ice Man. In case you didn’t know, shaving cream burns the dirt right out of the sidewalk, leaving nice white crisp letters that aren’t easily removed even when a strong 14-year old boy scrubs with a steel brush for hours on his hands and knees. There were other incidents surrounding that one — and as with my neighbor’s child — there was also grounding involved. He survived that dreadful month (and many others), and I’m sure my neighbor’s daughter will too, but to think my grandchildren — yes, my grandchildren — will one day do something like that (and they will) or worse (and they will), is well, just not something I want to think about.
If that conversation didn’t cheer me up, having the kids and MJ come over did. MJ is so charming, so funny, so cute in every way. His smile burns the gloom right out of a cloudy day and his blonde hair and dark brown eyes light up the room. He agrees with most everything you say with a smile and a nod of his head and ends every question asked of him with “yah” said quickly with a slight lingering of breath on the end (and now has Sydney saying the same). He just turned 19 months and I don’t want him (or Sydney) to get any bigger. I really don’t but not that their parents feel the same some days.
As of the last few times I’ve seen MJ he now calls me “Guy” and will quite emphatically say it over and over and over until I remember that it is his current name for me, or until one of the family members reminds me. When I look at him he beams that I responded. Sunday night as he named us around the room there was “Mama, Dada, Papa, Bubba (himself) and Guy.” Lovely. There’s a picture on the frig of “Robbie, Auntie, Jo (Great-Grandma Jo), and Guy.” Nice. It’s not that he has a speech impediment … he can say lots and lots of words with great clarity. Dang, and I got stuck with Guy? Why? How? No offense, it’s a nice name and all — for a guy or Guy — but for a Gramma?! Even Sydney now calls me “Grnanna” or something like that. Oh well, it’s endearing because it comes from him and I’m sure (hopeful) that one day it will transform again.
When I went to bed and couldn’t sleep I got up and went to the computer. My intention was to just start the upload of some pictures to Snapfish (my back-up back-up) but I was drawn to a folder of MJ and Sydney of just under a month ago that contained these pictures. On this particular day that I was watching MJ I asked if he was hungry and wanted lunch. “Yah” to which he promptly went into the dining room, climbed up in the chair and sat there. That was a first. We usually eat in the kitchen unless the family is over so I said Don’t you want to get in your high chair? “No.” So you want to eat here? “Yah.” He sat there and ate so tidy-like, finally catching my camera’s eye and playing around with his charm a bit before offering me a bite. He’s very social while eating and such a gentleman handling his fork and spoon very well.
And then there’s Sydney. What took five pictures to sum up MJ only takes one for Sydney. She’s all business this girl — no time for smiling or messin’ around and not because she doesn’t have personality cause she’s got plenty of that. She’s got a job to do and she does it with gusto usually holding her fork or spoon in one hand while eating with the other. She loves food and if it’s good enough to eat, well then it’s good enough to wear as well. At her house they have a blanket under the high chair. At my house we have a dog.
But as proven by this after-dinner bath picture, she sure cleans up nice.