Adventures in Grand-parenting

It is easy to forget what it was like to have children in the house.

Grand-parenting, for the most part, consists of a few hours here and there, doing short stints of child care or taking a trip to the park. Quick and painless.

It is a beautiful thing. All the gain and none of the pain. Play with kids for a while, and by the time they are getting cranky or whiney, it's time for them to go home and annoy their parents.

But sometimes grand-parenting requires an extended commitment. This can be hazardous.

We recently kept our two grandsons for a three-day stretch while our son and daughter-in-law were on a short trip.

Zeke is four years old, and he is a sweet little boy. He is very observant, very talktative, and most of the time, very loud.

His brother Malachi is 18 months old. He is cute as a button, with a raucous laugh and an endearing smile. But he is stubborn, and quick to throw a fit when he doesn't get his way. I predict he is going to take his parents on a trip through the "terrible two's" that they will never forget.

The first morning they were here, things went pretty smoothly. That is because Grandma Peggy stayed home that day and took care of getting the boys up in the morning. All I had to do was wake up and eat breakfast with them.

I ended up working late that evening, so I only got to see the boys for about an hour before bedtime. So far, so good.

But the following morning, I was in charge. Peggy had to leave at 7:00 for work, and it was my job to get the boys ready to go for the day.

Zeke woke up first. I talked to him for a while and helped him pick out his clothes for the day. Then he started getting dressed. While he dressed, I got his lunch ready for school. Then I gathered up his school items and back-pack and set them by the door. When he finished dressing, I tied his shoes.

Of course, he was hungry. He sat at the table, and I poured some hot water into his bowl of instant oatmeal while he stirred. As I reached across in front of him to grab a napkin, I apparently got too close for his liking.

He jerked his head back and said, "Grandpa, you don't smell very good."

I considered pointing out to the wee lad that if I had not spent every waking moment of the morning serving as his butler, I might have had time to shower before now. But I let it pass.

Then it was time to wake up the Hulk. Malachi was out like a light in his little crib. I don't think he had flinched since we tucked him in the night before.

I sure wish I could sleep like that.

I rubbed his bulging tummy and softly called his name. He yawned. His eyes fluttered. He stretched. He jerked his head up, looked around, rolled over onto all fours and then stood up. It took him all of 30 seconds to go from sound asleep to wide awake. Impressive.

I sure wish I could wake up like that.

He was grunting and making agitated noises as I sat him into his high chair. He kept pointing to the refrigerator and waving his arms around.

Zeke decided I needed a translator. "Grandpa, Malachi is hungry!"

"Is he like this every morning?"

"Yeah."

I stirred up the oatmeal as fast as humanly possible and began to shovel it into little Malachi's gaping mouth. He was still grunting, but the tone had changed a bit. It was something like the sounds you might hear at the zoo at feeding time.

After breakfast, the little Hulk was happy. I changed him, dressed him and started getting ready to go. I grabbed Malachi's diaper bag, and Zeke's backpack for school, and began to load the car.

As I walked from the kitchen to the garage, I told Zeke to bring Malachi with him while I loaded the car. When I walked back to the kitchen, Malachi was lying on his back and laughing as Zeke dragged him along by one arm across the kitchen floor.

"Here he is, Grandpa!"

Soon I had both boys strapped into the car and we were ready to go. Right on time! I was congratulating myself on my organizational skills until Zeke interrupted me.

"Grandpa, I have to pee."

"Didn't you go before?"

"I forgot!"

"Can't you wait until we get to school?"

The look on his face told me no.

I sat in the car with Malachi while Zeke went to pee. Malachi began to thrash around in the car seat, chafing at his restraints. He began grunting again. I was afraid he might chew through the seat belt and run off into the woods.

I went inside to find out what was taking Zeke so long. He was standing at the sink, the faucet blasting like a fire hose, watching water drip from his fingertips as he held them out at eye level.

"Zeke, we're going to be late for school!"

"I'm washing my hands, grandpa."

"Did you use soap?"

"Not yet."

I turned down the faucet and lathered Zeke's hands with soap. He had to endure my body odor again as I hovered over him to make sure he finished washing up and dried his hands.

By the time we returned to the garage, Malachi was grunting and rocking violently in the car seat in a desperate attempt to escape his confinement. He finally quieted down once I began to back out of the garage.

We arrived at school almost on time, and I dropped Zeke off. Then I made the short drive over to Mrs. Sherry's house to drop Malachi off for the day. I breathed a huge sigh of relief as I drove away, alone, in peaceful solitude.

I still needed a shower. I'm sure my blood pressure was higher than my cardiologist would have liked, and I was going to be late for work. And I had to do this all over again the next morning.

I don't know how mothers do all this on a daily basis. And I don't really want to know. I'm just part-time, and I like it that way.