Play-Learn-Grow-Repeat

Hi, I’m Grandpa Wednesday, and I’ll be sitting in for two weeks, while Wednesday Mom is visiting Husband/Daddy in Southeast Asia. Thanks to Navy scheduling, those two are finally getting the honeymoon they should have had seven years ago. But that’s another story…

We’ve now had 48 hours as “parents” of a two-year-old. The basics are coming back quickly, but there’s no doubt that many of the trimmings have changed. The first thing I noticed was the toys. When our kids were this age, it was the child who talked to the toy. (And we said, “Isn’t that adorable.”) Today, there are few toys that don’t whir, talk, or otherwise make their presence known. So far, none has initiated a conversation, but I’m suspicious that they may be plotting something.

Case in point: the trains. As you learned last week, Wednesday’s Child is in the midst of a “train phase.” His prize possessions include two complete sets of trains. The simple wooden ones I remember well, though the number of possible track pieces seems to have multiplied geometrically.

Set two is an engineer’s dream. At least five remote controlled locomotives, each with a wireless controller, its own sound effects, cars, people, and other accoutrements.  My Powerbook laptop is a simpler tool to use. From what I can tell, the object of the game is to get as many trains running at once as possible, then set them all to create a spectacular crash at the bottom of the mountain.

I’m mastering all of this slowly, but Wednesday’s Child seems unfazed. He simply moves from one controller to the next…pushing and pulling the levers to make it all go smoothly. Mind you, this is the same kid who can pull up the Thomas the Tank Engine videos on Mom’s iPhone in about the time it takes me to figure out how to answer mine.

Different isn’t bad; it’s just different. Today’s toddlers can be just as creative as yesterday’s; they just have a much larger palette of options from which to choose. What matters is that Mom or Dad… or even Grandma or Grandpa… are around to help and applaud at the next great accomplishment.

Excuse me… there seems to be a caboose off the track…

More later,
Grandpa Wednesday

A few short weeks ago, I moved from my rather large home to my parents’ small, 1960s ranch. To give you an idea, my house had two playrooms, an office, and my son and I each had our own rooms (with our own closets). Well, now we share a room (and a very tiny closet), my office is my red chaise and laptop, and the playroom is my parent’s living room.

It was surreal to me as I was hanging up clothes into the closet that I used for 20+ years. When I was 3, like my son, I slept in my crib in this very same room. I have to be honest, there is a huge part of me that enjoys being home and having my son sleeping right across the room, rather than 5 rooms away. Don’t get me wrong, eventually I do want to have my own bedroom again. But for now, it is nice to see him sleeping. This is a luxury that my light sleeper never gave me. I would open his door and hear “hey mama.”

In honor of “coming back home,” I have made a list of the five biggest surprises of returning to my parents’ house:

1. Shockingly, no one is getting on each other’s nerves yet. Yes, my dad runs around in his underwear. My son runs, screams, and makes messes. My mom and I have yet to run out of things to talk about during our late night chats. But be aware: if I ever forget to put a cover on a plate before I use the microwave (her only rule), I may begin to get on my mother’s nerves.

2. I truly think that everyone is better off with this multigenerational living. Cultures that practice this style of living, know what they are doing! One caveat: you have to actually all REALLY like each other for this to work! My son LOVES getting the extra hugs, kisses, and giggles from mammaw and papa. My parents are staying young listening to the pitter patter of his little feet. And I secretly think my mom loves that she wakes up to a clean counter, table, and dishes. We are truly the essence of teamwork.

3. Sometimes less is more. We are in a much smaller place right now. But you know what? That requires us all to be closer, in the same living area. Ironically, before we moved in my parents had the leaf in their table making it quite large. Once we moved in, we realized that it just wasn’t “intimate” enough, so we created a small circular table by removing that leaf. Again proving, less is more.

4. Okay there are times that sleeping in the same room as my son isn’t the greatest. Like at 4am when I hear, “hey mama, are you in here?” Or when I am laying there and really have to go to the bathroom, but don’t want to wake up my light sleeper with the creaky door. I also wonder how it will be, when we are in separate rooms again. How will he adjust?

5. The biggest surprise…My son and I are happy! We visit my son’s father a few days per week (he is currently residing in our former home). Sometimes we meet at the old house, other times at a park, and sometimes at other random locations. But when it is time to go, there are no tears. My son is ready to see mammaw and papa. When asked where he wants to go (which I am afraid his father sometimes does to try to feel vindicated himself), my son proudly says “home, to mammaw and papa’s house.”

Happy Grandparents Day Mammaw and Papa!