Wow, I'm a Widow Now...: 2022-07-10

When son #2 asked me what I had going on at the end of June, I was fairly certain that he had no interest in my active, post-pandemic social life. My instincts were correct-he and his bride planned a trip for their 10th anniversary and needed "someone" to stay with their kids. Someone able to coordinate the daily schedules of the three; two of which were in softball/baseball tournaments in different parts of the state on the same day, music lessons, camp, fussy eating habits and whatever else came up. I enthusiastically said "yes" and added my own list of things to accomplish, like crafting every day, house cleaning and ultimately matching every pair of socks in their house. Dwight Eisenhower as supreme commander during WWll could have taken lessons in my battle plans.

I arrived with seven bags of crafts, and after sending their parents off to the airport, we worked on creating a volcano until they discovered the gummy candy making kit in one of the bags. Soon, these three plus three friends (including one whose religious background prohibited him from eating gelatin) were busy making rainbows, unicorns, clouds and even sculls in a mold I found in the pantry. I sent the neighbor kids home well-sugared up. Score a walk in the grandparent park on day 1.

My granddaughter had a softball tournament that night, and it was pre-arranged that a coach would take her. That left the two boys easily entertained with my phone and iPad playing Paw Patrol and other games while I started " project #1", organizing their hall closet full of hats, scarves and gloves and emptying way too many book bags full of stuff. Suffice to say that I wish I owned stock in Crayola and Pokemon.

Saturday brought a coordinated effort with the other grandmother. My grandson and I headed 1-1/2 hours NORTH to his baseball tournament while she headed an hour SOUTH with the other two to the softball tournament. And let me say that baseball tournaments for seven years olds are in one word: STUPID. His main concern was having sunflower seeds to spit. They split two games which put them in the losers bracket and eight hours later we headed home, stopping at a big box hardware store for spray paint, flowers and a small tree. I had other projects in store...

But first, dinner and promised trip to the ice cream parlor where the youngest threw up in the parking lot on the way into the store, and again when we got home. The grandma walk in the park was sullied with splashes of vomit on her Sperrys.

From that point on, the days were filled with way too many things to go into individually. Every day, I'd ask them what was the best and worst part of their day. Best parts changed, depending on the kid. Worst was always the same: they missed their parents. A lot.

Babysitting without parental interference is the equivalent of a petrie dish under a microscope. Each one had his/her own uniqueness. My 9 year old granddaughter is an avid reader, aspiring Kids Cooking Championship contestant and mimics many of her mama's mannerisms. My observations predict that she will be a normal teenage slob in a few years when it comes to cleaning her bedroom. My 7 year old grandson is the typical middle child, not able to be boss or baby so he's the people pleaser. He's the ultimate sports nut-never without some kind of ball in his hand, a miser when it comes to money (reminded me multiple times that I owed him $10 for helping clean his mama's van), a wicked drummer and the family artist with a bedroom gallery currently featuring sharks. The 4 year old "baby" was always the first to pop out of bed and give me a hug to start my day. He's allergic to nuts, fur and I can't count how much else. Like his dad was as a child, he can throw up, immediately smile and a few minutes later, repeat the process without ever complaining. He loved to help me clean, adores Marshall on Paw Patrol and stubbornly attempts everything his siblings do.

I really got to see the best of them in their pack. When we crafted, they did it together. When we watched TV, they picked shows they all liked, like Sing 2 and countless episodes of Paw Patrol. While I started laundry, the two oldest read Paw Patrol books (anyone seeing a pattern here?) to the youngest and helped each other get ready for whatever we were off to do, be it filling water bottles, getting snacks or buckling car seats. One day, I was frustrated after a bedroom door accidentally got locked and we had no key. I started taking the knob off to jimmy the lock when I heard a crash. A jar of 22,000 (yes, the zeros are correct) iron-on beads went flying all over the living room floor, sending the youngest wailing because he reached for something he shouldn't have. Just as I was ready to start yelling, the other two sprung into action: my granddaughter consoled him while the middle one grabbed a broom and said that they would help pick them up. I watched in amazement as the three of them worked together to pick up every stinking bead and the youngest kept thanking them profusely for helping him. In thinking back, I'm pretty confident that if it had been my own three sons, it would have been every man for himself.

On Friday, I dropped the two oldest off at their last day at camp and couldn't help but get a little misty-eyed as they ran off. Could I be missing them already? A while later, the other grandmother arrived to get the youngest and headed off to pick up his siblings to spend the last two days at her house before mom and dad got back. I looked around in satisfaction-their house was clean, garage straightened, flowers planted, rocking chairs painted, pies baked and most of the laundry done...but I just ran out of time to match those darn socks. I loaded up the car with all the crafts.

And I had to giggle as I plugged in the Waze app to get me home. Days before, we programmed Ryder from Paw Patrol to be the Waze voice and replaced my car on the screen with Marshall's fire truck. Saying "no job's too big and no pup's too small", he reminded me that I had just finished the biggest, most important job of my grandparenting career. (To be continued I'm sure!)