Thursday, June 24, 2010
Owen came around one thirty this afternoon and it's been a busy day. From the moment I take him into my arms until he goes to his mama or daddy, my life revolves around him. That's just all there is to it. Lily and I discussed the fact today that it may be time to stop jumping to get whatever he wants the second he wants it now. That we should try to encourage him to ask for things instead of just pointing and hoo-hoo'ing like a chimp.
Yeah. We should do that.
I don't know. Something comes over me when I see him. It's like a physical reaction and all I want to do is make him happy. Is that wrong? I hope not. It's probably natural but it's one thing when a grandparent acts like this around grandchildren once or twice a month, something else entirely when it's three or four times a week.
Well. He's still a baby although when I look at him, I realize he's growing to be more boy than baby and that's all there is to that.
I keep calling him my "little man" and I don't think that if he were a girl I'd be calling him my "little woman" although I could be wrong about that too. He's just SUCH a boy. But he's a sweet one. He lets me give him tiny kisses on his neck and when I'm done and after we smile at each other, he turns his head so I can do it again. He holds so still when I'm kissing him. But then he grows weary of that game and wants to get up and DO SOMETHING.
We took endless trips down the hallway with his little walky thing. As he pushes it, it plays music which is sort of annoying. I can turn it off if I want but I leave it on. He seems to like it. We go down the hallway from one end to the other, turn around, go back. He loves it.
Today his Pop-Pop brought him a pool home and blew it up with the compressor and we put a few inches of water in it and got in it with him. It's a long pool so that Pop-Pop can stretch out with his long legs at one end, Grandmother with her shorter ones in the other and Owen in the middle. He feels compelled to share his duckies with us and wants us to chew on them too, so of course we do. He loved the pool and at one point there he was in the water with his grandparents while his beloved chickens and his own beloved rooster were all standing there watching him and I had to get out and take a picture. Chicken spa? Ah, the glamor. Lily called while we were outside and when I called her back I said, "We were in the pool," as airily as one of the ladies in a 1940's movie would have said. Joan Crawford, perhaps, or Bette Davis. "Oh, dahling, sorry I missed your call. We were in the pool."
Mr. Moon told Owen that he wasn't allowed to swim unless one of us was with him and I told him firmly that there would be no running on the cement. I'm sure he'll follow the rules.
We sat him up in the high chair for dinner and he ate potatoes and field peas, cucumbers and tomatoes and corn bread. He wanted deer sausage desperately. I did not give him any. Then he got down and played peek-a-boo from behind the high chair with his grandfather and me and in between laughing and peek-a-booing, he pooped.
I cleaned him up and now he's in the tub with his Pop-Pop. The two most beautiful boys I've ever seen. It's something, this grandparent thing. I didn't expect my heart to be so taken over. I really didn't. But there you have it. It's happened.
Lily and Jason are spending the night tonight because they both close and will get off late and so that boy will be here in the morning, too. I can't believe I'm saying this but I am looking forward to that. There will be more endless trips down the hallway, more playing in the pool, perhaps, more chicken-feeding and rooster imitating, more diapers and snacks and holding him close while I give him his bottle.
I'm in love. I'm just flat-out in love.
With this boy. This little man. My grandson.