Since I am writing on my son's laptop tonite I don't have a picture to illustrate anything. Which is probably a good thing because I am grumpy. I mean it. I think my grandsons could attest to that. Well, they could have earlier but I got them in their pajamas and ready for bed a little past 7, then laid with them while they watched cartoons. All it took was about 20 minutes and it was lights' out time. We had one of those interesting days where I think all three of us wished we were with any other two people on earth besides the ones we were stuck with, haha! We were all grumpy. And after I got dinner out of the way and the dishwasher going, I sat on one of the couches with my Angry Birds game and ignored them unless it sounded like they were in the process of killing each other. Then I stepped in to settle down the mayhem before returning to my game. And at 7 I said, "Bed!" and neither one protested. They'd been chasing each other around the living and dining rooms for an hour with their light sabers at warp speed and I knew they were ready. I learned a long time ago that on days like these it's better to just let them run the orneriness out of themselves then spend my day saying "Don't do that" and "Don't kill your brother" and "What do you think you're trying to do?" until I'm blue in the face. It drives me to the point of distraction so unless they're afflicting permanent damage on each other or knocking the house down around my head, why not just let them go. They're not hurting anyone or anything. And usually the next day they're good as gold.
Oh, if I'd only known 30 years ago what I know now. Sometimes I think, "Oh, if only I'd had these two when I was younger to care for!" because my son and daughter were two of the easiest kids in the world to raise. A couple of kids like them would be a breeze to raise now! But I wouldn't have had the experience, the patience, that I have now. The ability to know that this too shall pass on days when you think you don't have the energy or stamina to deal with one. more. minute. When "Gram, Cooper's going to bite me!" and "Grandma, I hate Dylan!" is all you hear every five minutes. You just say, "Well, bite him back" or "Hate's a mighty strong word, Coop. How'd you like it if he told you he hates you?" No reaction...or a very mild reaction...does wonders with kids of Dylan and Cooper's caliber. Takes the wind right out of their sails.
And so I sit here in front of my keyboard, wondering if when I read this sometime tomorrow morning it'll make a lick of sense to me. Or if I'm ready to go crawl into bed, too, tho it's so blessedly peaceful and quiet I hate to let it go for the evening. Maybe just a few more minutes, even tho it's getting kind of late for me. It'll be worth the sacrifice when I wake up to find a little blond-haired moppet standing by my bed at 5 am saying, "I'm awake now, Gram." But then again, I was able to talk him into climbing into bed with me this morning for an extra half hour. Maybe I'll luck out tomorrow, too.