I recently posted the following, as my 'status update' on Facebook - "Missing watching Elliot fall asleep in my arms and hearing Analyse sing some of the songs with me, while I rock them to sleep at night. Missing his oh so excited to see me in the morning grins. Eating my dry Cheerios by myself is boring. And my ears still wait for the "Gammy I awake" call sounding down the staircase. I'm glad their mother (Cyndi) loves them too, but I miss them so-o much when they aren't here ..."
The missing them has increased. And then late last night I downloaded
all of the pictures off of our camera onto our computer. After looking
through what all had been on there, I came to two conclusions. Number
on,e was that I often look a lot heavier than I think I do. Good thing
I've already begun the dropping weight process! Number two, was
reconfirmation that I truly have been blessed with adorable
grandchildren (whom I'm missing even more now).
My friend Maxine says that she really misses all of the tales I use
to share about them. She also reminded me that part of the reason I was
sharing them, was so I could print them off and put them in the kids
books, to go over with them when they are much older.
Here then are a couple of silly tales from the last couple of times
the kids were here, mixed in with some pictures of my precious grand
a picture of the two of them - Analyse had just turned three, Elliot was eleven months.
One evening I had gone upstairs to get something.. don't remember
'what' and that part doesn't matter. On my way back down, as I tried to
step over the expandable wooden gate at the bottom of the staircase,
the cuff of my pajama pants got caught on the metal bracket of the gate.
Bother! I tried sort of yanking my leg a bit. The situation got worse.
And oh did my vertigo step in. So I stood there on one leg, clutching my
bundle of stuff, leaning against the end post, calling "Help!". Brian
asked what was wrong. I think it was Benson who had gotten up and
started towards me. As I start to answer, Miss Analyse pipes up with
"What is your problem" in a very accusational tone of voice. At first i
was blown away. Then it cracked me up and I started laughing so hard it
affected my balance worse. So I repeated the "Come help me". Analyse
walked over to where a couple of our sons were now attempting to take my
bundle from me, hold me steady, get my pant leg unstuck, put her hands
on those cute little hips and repeated (with even more accusation in her
voice) "WHAT is your problem?!?!"
We were all laughing ever so hard as Brian stated "She's definitely heard that someplace before."
Once I had been completely free and assisted to a chair to regain my balance, she kept inquiring if I was okay.
One morning, knowing that Byron had worked till after 2 am, I had
gotten up with Mr. Elliot when I heard him around seven. For whatever
reason, my brain was really fuzzy that morning. I brought him down
stairs, changed his very wet diaper and left him playing with a couple
of toys ever so contently in front of a couch while I headed into the
bathroom. I kept expecting to hear his giggling accompanied thunder
crawl across the kitchen floor, seeings how I had not closed the gate
between the dining room and kitchen. But he didn't come. Fine, I
But when I reentered the living room, he wasn't in there either.
Hummm.... then I heard his happy giggle. turned out that I hadn't
thought to put the gate up at the bottom of the staircase, and he had
crawled all the way up to the landing, where he was happily looking out
the open window and pounding on the screen.
As I headed up to retrieve him, I thanked the Lord that he'd kept Elliot from falling down as he climbed up!
From then on, the majority of the times that I headed up to rock
them to sleep, I let Elliot crawl up ahead of me. Not sure who was more
excited that he could do so, Elliot or Analyse. She was so proud of her
little brothers accomplishment!