Staying Connected with Grandkids - 2.0
In this, the Second Year of Our Pandemic 2021, we have the undivided attention of at least one grandchild.
We have been empty nesters for almost fifteen years. Grandchildren haven’t visited in over a year. Yet, our living room carpet is cluttered with toys. What the hell is going on?
Yes, we do feel a little crazy and lost on some days. Yes, 2021 started out feeling a little like 2020 — Groundhog Year. And yes, part of me has gotten used to not having to show up anywhere on time (other than for London Writers’ Salon Writers’ Hours).
But until we are fully vaccinated and can grab those long-awaited hugs, boy, are we having fun with this little guy! In last fall’s post on staying connected, I wrote, “We don’t do this every day, but often enough to stay connected.” No longer true. We Portal every day for at least an hour — sometimes longer. His attention span is amazing.
No longer only a reading time, we play, pretend, chat, and build. The main attraction is comparing and contrasting our cars and trucks. He’ll say things like, “I don’t have a rainbow car like that. Mine has these colors. See?” or “That one has an airfoil. I don’t have one with an airfoil.” (He will next time we see him!)
We make up stories. He’s got this little speech down pat:
“Pull over, Buddy. You’re going too fast. You’re going to get a ticket now. The ticket will cost you one dollar. Know what you need to do now?”
“What?”
“ You need to pay pay pay pay pay.”
It started as a Grandpa thing, but Grandma has gotten the hang of it too. He and Grandpa started the word-repeat mantras, like pay, hum (for our hummers), and plant (when planting pretend seeds).
We still read books. I recently found a great book on cars that is a big hit. Calling All Cars, by Sue Fliess, illustrated by Sarah Beise. We hold up cars to match those shown on each page. I’m waiting for Sues’ Tons of Trucks book to be available at the library.
And we pretend — a lot. Sometimes we go to the zoo, the farm, or on a picnic, with our plastic horses, cows, pigs, goats, etc. We each have something “scary” to show the other now. When he holds up his car with a skeleton, we pretend-scream, “Ahhhhh,” and hide from the camera for a second. Now he does the same when we show him a dinosaur. As with any toddler, repetition is key but we raised four of these puppies ourselves. We can end this activity after a half-dozen “scares” by putting on our silly “rose-colored” sunglasses that block all scariness.
We recently started building things with Duplos. Sometimes we try to match what he has built and other times we just show off what we’ve each built.
Sometimes we just talk. He tells us about preschool. I have always gotten better answers when I ask questions like, “What made you laugh today?” Some questions prompt him to run off camera. Then we hear things like, “Mommy, what did I drink for lunch?”
What little person wouldn’t love having the undivided attention of his grandparents? And what grandparent doesn’t love the undivided attention of their grandchild?
We’ve watched his growth from getting upset if we talk with anyone but him to learning patience while we have a brief chat or marvel at what his baby brother is doing.
Still, he does know how to sway just the right way to block the view behind him when he thinks we’ve dallied too long with others.
I recently started a Portal session with another daughter by silently holding up a green pick-up truck. She tilted her head. I changed it to a yellow front-end loader and reminded her for the millionth time that I got to drive these vehicles awhile back. She wasn’t impressed.
“Mom, I think you guys may need an intervention before you rejoin society.”
I got out my Jenny the Giraffe puppet. “What do you mean, Sweetie?”
Thinking about this one-year anniversary of our “Houston, we have a problem” week has brought a lot of emotions. The fear of understanding that what was happening in Italy was coming here. The anger with certain family members who thought that rules to protect the elderly were clearly not meant for them. The sheer panic when everything started shutting down. But it was the sadness of everything we knew we were going to lose out on, including time with my mom and a new grandbaby, that was the hardest to bear.
Then there are the unexpected moments we didn’t know we’d lose out on. Hearing — from a distance — our oldest grandson’s voice start to change and watching our youngest grandson learn to crawl long distance.
But with this anniversary comes hope. It seems we may be turning a corner as a country and in our personal lives. My husband is fully vaccinated and I am just a few weeks away from that second shot. Plans are being made. Plans that involve a lot of travel and even more hugging.
We still won’t see everyone as much as we’d like since we live in different states, but the Portal will still be there. And we’ll no doubt continue to end with our special sign-offs to avoid the tears that sometimes come with saying “goodbye.” He sometimes cries too.
“See you later alligator.”
“After a while, Grandma-dile.”
Recently retired, Barbara was a telecommuting patent attorney starting in the dark ages of the internet, in late 1994. Initially, an employee of an out-of-state law firm, she also successfully operated her own law firm from home until 2019. She then became Of Counsel (the telecommuting kind), until she retired to focus on other types of writing, including her novels, picture books, essays, and public commentary poems. Barbara’s techno-thriller with speculative elements, THE FRACTURING ICE, is out on submission. Her current work-in-progress is a YA action/adventure coming-of-age story entitled CAROLINE’S PANDEMIC JOURNEY. Barbara and her husband enjoy life in Iowa with their two cats. They hope to share life with another golden retriever or two one day. But the Backyard Birding Days are over. www.iowareflections.com @prairiewind46@mindly.social, @prairiewind46
