Call Me Miss Hannigan

Wow, tough coupla days. Had two hours sleep Saturday night and entertained all day Sunday. Our little grandsons slept over so we could all celebrate a certain landmark birthday of this former boy seen below, who came into our lives back when David’s hair was almost black and mine floated above my head in classic 80s fashion.

He and his bride took the whole family out to dinner at a fancy steakhouse Saturday night.

I had hired a team of big guys from this pool of fun guys to babysit the little guys while we were gone and that was a great success. Only thing is when we came back at 9pm we saw the children were both in the same tiny bed.

“This is unsustainable!” I said. “Leave them be,” David said.  And so into our own bed we got – and lay there wide awake for houes. (I couldn’t sleep so he couldn’t sleep so I couldn’t sleep: you know how that goes.) Then, sure enough, at 3:45 the little one woke with a cry. The quarters were just too close.

David had gone to the living room sofa by then so I put the child in bed next to me but it seems the poor older brother remained awake until sun-up. He wrote a series of plaintive notes that made me feel like Miss Hannigan herself from Little Orphan Annie. Poor child! “What time is it TT?” said one in his little-boy spelling. Sweetheart that he is, he didn’t feel he should just come wake us. 

By 6 though I was up with them both, cooking bacon, mailing toast down into the toaster’s little letter slot, mixing cocoa… And it was all fine – until the little one said he was cold.

Extra clothes didn’t help.

Neither did a hot bath, even with my awesome foam blocks that stick to the sides of the tub.  

By 11, having given up on the church plan I had long nurtured – it was the much-anticipated day for the Blessing  of the Animals – he and I were leaning feebly against each other coloring a fuzzy poster while his older brother was deep into his sixth hour of the Disney Channel though at his house he can watch only two hour of TV, and that only on weekends.

What could we do? One of us had a fever and everyone else was exhausted. The day picked up when the rest of family arrived including the birthday boy  and his parents and the world of great food that they brought.

We ate. We watched football. We even played a little baseball out back. It was a fine day, in sum, but I’m STILL paying the price: I actually fell asleep while ironing last night and that is one good trick.  And even now, on this Wednesday morning, I keep looking at the foam blocks the little one tried so feebly to have fun with and wish I had them both back with us to do a better job grandma’ing. Then I go and have another nap.

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2 thoughts on “Call Me Miss Hannigan

  1. Sounds familiar. I “grammy” our two girls, 5 and 3, every Wednesday and love it completely. But also do turn into a screaming meanie every so often when they don’t listen…it goes with the territory…just don’t beat yourself up…and look forward to the next time to make amends.
    Nancye Tuttle

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