Jack and Me

I'm away from home for a week to take care of my grandson. He turned two last Monday and he's so much fun. I've bemoaned the fact that he lives far away and I don't see him often for the past two years so when my son asked me to come down I jumped at the chance.

Jack eating oatmeal in the morning is on my list of the top five cutest things I've ever seen. He scoops up big globs and carefully aims toward his mouth and once the food reaches his mouth there is very little chewing and a great deal of loud swallowing. Being with Jack is sweet.

It makes me want to apologize to my children for not noticing every little moment, not relishing them enough. I was twenty when I had my first son and had all the confidence of a new adult but I wasn't mature enough to really enjoy being a mom. I wasn't great at having little kids, and I had four of them in eight years. As they grew, so did I and by the time they were teenagers I had relaxed enough to be present with them. They all turned out great and I'm proud of them. Hell, I even like them.

The last few days with Jack have reminded me of those days twenty-five or thirty years ago when I was a stay-at-home mom. I'm rembering how long the days were and how lonely I sometimes felt. My husband worked twelve hour days and we moved four times between 1970 and 1979. I'm not complaining. I wanted to stay home with my kids but it was difficult at times.

In the spirit of gratitude I'm glad for those days but I'm also grateful for the freedom I have now and the bonus of having grandchildren. Finally, I'm grateful for the little things, like onesies and Quaker instant oatmeal.