As I watch, Owen is standing at the glass door to the backyard of his
home, looking out. He’s watching his dog Gretta, but he’s taking everything in –
fallen leaves, a black squirrel, an overturned sandbox lid.
He is dragging a toy tape
measure, which I roll up for him, so he can pull it out again. We play the
simplest of games, and my 15-month-old grandson is enchanted and entertained.
As am I.
When I’m with him, I remove
my wristwatch a dozen times each day and place it on his forearm. He admires
it, takes pleasure in it, but it drops to the floor a moment later. Thank
goodness my watch is as durable as my cell phone.
I babysat with my wife Jan
for my two grandsons for a few days this week. I was reminded of why I love my
boys so much, even as I faced radical change in my lifestyle during this time.
I drove a high-tech large SUV with a
backup camera, a blind spot warning system, navigation. The fuel tank filler
door was on the wrong side. It seated seven passengers.
I moved among the swells along Woodward Avenue Birmingham
Some of the men wore suits and ties, en
route to their job; many of the women on their way to work looked like Connie
Britton. Speaking of Britton, I got a chance to re-connect with the first few
episodes of “Friday Night Lights,” to this day one of my favorite TV shows.
The homes were grand, some majestic –
several thousand square feet. They were nestled gently into wooded areas.
The cars they drove were predominantly European
or high-end Japanese. I saw Porsche, Mercedes and Fiat dealerships lined up on
Woodward.
On our way home from school on our last
day with the boys, Jan worked with Noah on store signs with the letter “N” in
them. As I drove south on Wo0odward, it was amusing to hear Noah shout as he recognized
the first letter of his first name in large signs on storefronts. Jan is a
teacher through and through.
But for as much as he enjoys games of learning,
he is head-over–heels for animated superheroes. We bought him a Teenage Mutant
Ninja Turtles outfit complete with mask, bandanna, turtle shell and sword.
Jan warned me not to take the sword to
preschool, familiar with the schools’ widespread rules regarding even toy
weapons. But as we arrived at the school parking lot, sans Amma, Noah begged to
bring it to school and I thought, there’s no harm in asking, right?
To my surprise, his teachers said yes, and
he was allowed to bring it into school. He brought it the next day as well, but
one of the teachers said that they had had a request to not bring the sword to
school anymore. We stopped, although he continued to bring the rest of the
outfit.
The increase in responsibility with young
children for several consecutive days was a bit enervating. With no dependents
at home any longer, we’re not used to it. Jan said she was on full alert every
moment she was there.
I’m a punctual person, but I’ve become accustomed
to arriving at work between 8 a.m. and 9 a.m. If I’m running a little behind,
it’s OK except for meetings and assignments with a short fuse.
But with Noah at preschool, he had to be
dropped and picked up at a certain time. And I was dependent on Noah and Jan to
get him ready – backpack, warm clothing, cap, TMNT garb, and water bottle.
Technically, I wasn’t late, but I like to be a few minutes early in arriving.
It’s good to be home – I know where things
are – and it’s easier to relax. But I miss the smiles, the laughter, the
goofiness we share with them. In another day or so, I’ll be missing them again.
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