I was reading one of my regular blogs (she's pretty much the only regular one outside of the family) this morning and her comments inspired me. I'm sitting here in my wonderful glider (NOT a rocking chair --heehee--) watching Go, Diego Go with Emma and learning all about Maine Wolves. It's only about the gazillionth time I've seen this episode. Anyway . . . BabsRN was talking about having some aches and pains this morning and I discovered I had more to say than would be welcomed (in my own opinion) on anyone's blog. Don't want to be a Blog Hog. (And since I've never heard that term before, we will assume I just made it up.) ANYWAY . . . (sheesh, you'd think I could keep my brain on track for five minutes, wouldn't you?)
I've discovered that this sweet little person with whom I share my home and my life helps me by keeping me young. How can you be old when you have a two and a half year old alone with you for eight or ten hours a day, five days a week. (A rescue pack, coming to the rescue, humm, humm, humm, we're singing.) So what do I do with her all day? Yesterday she discovered all of my belts. I got them all organized, sorted, rolled up and then put away in one of those hanging shoe organizers (the ones with all the pockets for pairs of shoes) and, after I was all done, she proceeded to pull out every single one. She played with them and looked them all over and then she draped every single one over her shoulders and walked around the house. When she got tired of doing that, she picked out one particular belt and kept handing one side to me saying, "Hold it, Grandma. Hold it," and then, "Hang on tight, Grandma. Hang on tight." That provided a LOT of entertainment for her. I tired of it quickly, but not her. In fact, she picked them up again this morning and picked up where she left off.
I don't know about any other grandparents (mostly because we're the only ones in our group of friends and in both families), but temper tantrums aren't the crisis that they were when our kids were Emma's age. Yesterday she was having one, complete with throwing herself to the ground and kicking and screaming, while I was on my computer. I waited for her to work it out and noticed that she got really quiet. I looked down at her and she was just laying there. She did that for about fifteen minutes and then she just fell asleep right where she lay. That was cool. I love naptime!
Do I still have aches and pains associated with being older (NOT old!)? Of course I do. They're just lessened now by the joy of Emma.
Afterthought: How come all the humans on Sesame Street look so different now than they did when my kids were watching it? It hasn't been THAT long . . . has it?
Growing oldER is not so bad. Growing OLD, I imagine, sucks. Gotta make sure I try not to do that. OldER, ok. OLD, not so ok.