My Grandfather lives with us. He just turned 95.
Papa & Frankie -- 94 1/2 & 3 1/2
Most people think he is about 70. He takes care of himself with me to provide laundry and cooking. Half the time he drives himself down to the diner in the morning or the burger joint in the evening. He really isn’t much trouble at all. When my grandmother died and he came to live with us, Frankie was 10 months old and I was at home. Now I have to be at work everyday 12 miles up the road. Which makes it difficult when he actually does need me.
Halloween night he stumbled as he got out of bed and hit his face on the chest of drawers. So I spent the next 2 weeks running him around to the doctor and eventually the dentist. Someone at work remarked that it was like having another child and I think that is a good analogy. I was very frustrated as I had already missed a lot of work due to Frankie starting pre-school and being sick every other week and I was not feeling very loving toward him for a couple of weeks. That was when I started this post. Since then I have put in some extra time at work to get caught up and am not feeling quite so overwhelmed. So this morning, I can be thankful that my little girl gets to know her great-grandpa. Not everyone gets to have that. He is not the grandpa I had growing up, it’s been 40 years and we are both different people now. (plus as a child, I don’t think you really know the grownups in your life) But I can love him for that history and because my grandma loved him. And try to remember that when I am frustrated by having to yell at him and repeat everything because he won’t wear his hearing aid. Or he makes a racist remark. Or makes the bathroom smell like old man. Or ………
What a nice “quiet” book for bedtime. In 3 chapters for early readers, but perfect for reading to a pre-schooler. Houndsley and Catina are practicing for the concert but it looks like they might get snowed in. Catina starts to worry about all the things she can’t do when they are stuck in the house, like go home to curl her whiskers and put on a dress for the concert, but Houndsley reminds her to focus on the fun things they can do when it is snowing and quiet. Like bake cookies and write poems and read them to each other, which my daughter said she wanted to do today! She is the product of her parents and therefore dictated that she would write a princess poem and I must write a pirate poem. Which I am including here for your laugh of the day:
Once there was a pirate
As salty as could be.
He lived upon the ocean
And sailed upon the sea.
But when he met a mermaid
He sailed the seas no more.
“I do not want her father
Knocking at my door.”
Since my daughter is just learning to write, we don’t have a princess poem for you but look for one in the future! Houndsley and Catina and the Quiet Time
definitely makes the list of mama favorites!
With some snipping of the stragglers and a judicously placed headband I think we might have pulled it off. Of course, there is the power struggle over where to place the bow and the ever present problem of if she knows her picture is being taken this grimace is her idea of a smile, but one thing at a time! Thanks for all your support everyone!
I am sure I’m not the only mama this has happened to….
A quiet evening at home, the night before school picture day…
Frankie: Mama, Look! (big smile)
Mama: AAAAHHHH. WHAT IS THAT IN YOUR HANDS!
Frankie: I cut my hair Mama! (still with the smile)
Mama: (puts her face in her hands and thinks about crying)
Frankie: What’s wrong, Mama?
Mama: Go to your room.
Frankie: (smile now gone and starting to cry) No, I don’t want to go to my room? Stay!
Mama: Frankie, we don’t cut our hair, we let the hair cutting lady do it.
Frankie: But Mama, I want to have short hair!
She actually didn’t do that bad of a job. She didn’t hack it all over, only the ends and the sides are almost even. Perhaps she’s found her calling?
