Grandkids have changed

What a difference a few months make. The last time we visited the grandkids, two-year-old Jacob was an avowed nudist. Now that he has attained the ripe old age of three, he not only wore clothes the entire time we were there, he was concerned that we not see his bare bottom after he exited the bathtub. My husband was ordered to avert his eyes while I helped the former nudist into his drawers.
The modesty didn’t extend to watering the lawn with his own personal water supply and I was asked several times to help him pull his pants back up.
The last time we were there baby Nicholas was standing but not walking. This time he was walking somewhat steadily. Plus he now tells jokes. At least that is what we think he was doing.
He would chatter for a few minutes then slap his thigh and laugh uproariously before repeating the routine. My husband is sure he was doing stand up comedy. He took such joy in the process that it was hard not to laugh along with him even though we didn’t have a clue as to what he was saying.
Emma has graduated from kindergarten and will be in first grade next year. It hardly seems possible that she is six years old already. We read a story together and she easily read words she had struggled with the last time we visited.
She also made cupcakes almost all by herself. I discreetly removed the eggshells that ended up in the batter. Both Jacob and Nicholas ate several of the tasty treats before she finished decorating them. Do you know how difficult it is to get strawberry cupcake crumbs off the floor? I do.
The boys were fascinated with my “owie.” I had stupidly cut myself and had to get three stitches put into my hand a couple of days before we left for our visit. Nicky was the first to rip off the bandage. He wasn’t that concerned with the injury, he just wanted to eat the bandage.
Jacob demanded to see my owie several times each day until it was finally time for my daughter, the nurse, to remove the stitches. I called Jacob over because I knew he would want to watch. He told me not to look and to close my eyes like this as he scrunched his face up to demonstrate. He continued to check out the healing process until the day we left.
Our days were filled with playing with trucks, finding lizards, rolling balls, and keeping Nicky in clean diapers. I swung on the swing and Jacob demanded that I sing while we swung. I gave him my best version of, “Swing Low Sweet Chariot,” and Jacob sang along.
I also sang and swung with Nicky and one time tried swinging with both boys on my lap. Trust me, that isn’t as easy as it sounds. We also went down the slide. That slide isn’t quite as wide as I thought it was.
Baby Nicky has a pacifier addiction and believes in being prepared. He prefers one in his mouth and one in each hand. He switches them out often. At some point he will lose all three of them. This results in frantic adults searching for pacifiers whenever it is time for his nap or time to go for a car ride.
We are back home now. There is no longer a need to search for pacifiers and nobody checks out my owie. Gracie, our calico cat, doesn’t play with trucks. She also doesn’t want to swing on a swing or go down a slide. Nobody wakes up in the middle of the night demanding to be picked up.
I am already missing hugs from small children. I know they will change so much by the next time we go for a visit. A few months makes all the difference in the lives of little ones. I can’t wait until we go back again.[[In-content Ad]]