The arrival
As the plane lands in St. Louis, I’m filled with vim and vigor, here for a five-day visit with my grandchildren and raring to make up for all the grandma time missed. While fervently wishing my grandchildren lived closer, there is one benefit to the distance. I can be Super-Grandma for short dollops of time, something I could never get away with if they lived next door.
I hurry down the jetway and leap into my daughter’s minivan, tossing my suitcase in the back seat as if it were a sack of feathers.
Six-year-old Natalie is waiting for me at my daughter’s house where she jumps into my arms. I follow her upstairs and put her to put her to bed, then peek into the nursery where the two-year-old twins sleep, anxious to reacquaint them with their favorite grandma. Five days stretch ahead, full of promise
Day One
A few challenges arise… childproof drawer locks…a childproof gate and a childproof door handle that requires genius IQ to understand.
After the twins recover from the early morning shock of seeing a stranger in their house, they take quite readily to me. It might have something to do with my put-the-coloring-book-on-myhead and-watch-it-fall comedy routine. Or it might be my impressive moon-walk dance. Also doesn’t hurt to repeat in low undertones… Grandma Joan is your favorite grandma…. Grandma Joan…can you say Grandma Joan?
There is a small afternoon challenge when Betsy called to say her errands are keeping her later than expected and would I meet Natalie’s school bus? I manage. That night, feeling a little tired, I put Natalie to bed.
Day Two
I take the children outside and watch Cami perform repeated nose dives down the slide. I kick a soccer ball back and forth with Natalie and chase Colin when he runs towards Natalie as she zooms high on a rope swing.
This evening I supervise all three nippers while their parents attend a wedding reception. Without blinking an eye, I monitor their trampoline bouncing sessions on the sofa cushions placed on the floor. I’m not unhappy when their parents come home at nine. Tonight, I drop into bed, a little worn around the edges but still okay.
Day Three
Son-in-law Steve and I take the children to downtown St. Louis where we watch Betsy cross the finish line at the St. Louis Rock ‘n Roll Half-Marathon.
Later in the afternoon, I take the children for a fresh air stint. The twins knock the soccer ball under the mini-van. Everyone grabs a stick of sidewalk chalk and decorates sidewalks and anything not moving. I supervise from a lawn chair. I tell my daughter, “Don’t know why I’m so tired. You’re the one who ran the half-marathon.”
Day Four
We all pile into the mini-van for Natalie’s gymnastics class. For one hour, I try to spot Natalie among fifty other girls bouncing, jumping and swinging from bars. The parent’s gallery is filled with young mothers trying to watch their other children, chat with each other and answer their cell phones. I can’t remember being that young.
I find tonight’s bedtime welcoming.
Day Five
Today is pretty much a blur but I finally master the car seat buckle and unbuckle technique.
The Departure
I manage to look peppy while Betsy drives me to the airport. Our farewells are sad as usual but once the plane lifts into the air, my head drops, my eyes close and I sleep until we land in Minneapolis.
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