Waiting for the Pandas to Dance…
A broad smile greeted me from the top of an urban cement staircase. The newly painted black front door opened just enough for my daughter to emerge while holding her daughter. Tiny fists tightly and spontaneously were drawn up to my granddaughter’s mouth. Pure excitement squealed through the warm summer afternoon air. She recognized me. She knew me. I am her Gram. The faces. Their smiles. The rest of the world melted away…
Life of an eleven-month-old is busy. Life of a parent of an eleven-month-old is about doing. Meeting needs. Keeping the baby healthy and safe. Physically demanding while the love envelopes this small being as she busily explores her new world. Monitors. Parenting apps. Eco-friendly baby products. Sleep sacks. Special detergents. Organic food. Organic crib mattress. Car seats and strollers that require a PHD in engineering to use. How did I ever manage to bring up my own daughter and son safely and effectively? My grandparenting learning curve has been rapid yet patiently delivered by my daughter. Improvements for the better? No doubt…
The day moved swiftly yet the sameness of the day before was evident by the never-ending pile of laundry, dishes, food prep, diapers, groceries, and the same stack of favorite reads at the ready. Feeding, napping, bathing, playing… rinse and repeat. A Fisher Price highchair from the late 80’s had been improved and updated to a much sturdier model with a manufacturer unfamiliar to this baby boomer. However, the routine was quite familiar. Somethings hadn’t changed…
The three of us plus our four-legged family member aka “the first born” took a late afternoon walk. The New England weather could have been more accurately described in a William Faulkner novel about the deep south in August than a Robert Frost poem. Uncomfortably hot and humid. Time outside the four walls was a must however. Changing up our environment despite the weather was necessary. Closing in on the early evening routine while gliding into bedtime was discussed. I would be in charge…
Dinner was simply delightful. She enjoyed eating. An enviable healthy diet was met with eagerness. I sang along with the Pandora station I had selected while supplying my granddaughter with each carefully prepared spoonful. My singing pleased her if no one else. I made-up the lyrics I had forgotten. She cared not. She was tickled by the fun. Impromptu silliness was ours alone to share. The giggles. The many giggles felt from her head to her toes…
Bath time. Splash time. We took our time. I didn’t feel the weight of the parental heavy lifting, so time moved at a much more relaxed pace. I had the luxury of swooping in solely for the grandparenting fun. Bedtime rituals were up next. Jack Johnson songs were saved on my phone by her parents, books to be read and a sleep sack decorated with panda bears was waiting in her crib for its occupant. We focused on sleeping. I was ready and hoped Belle was too…
“Stars above us chasing the day away
To find the stories that we sometimes need
Listen close enough all else fades
Fades away” “Constellations” Jack Johnson
A sleeping baby. Success. Few things are more precious. Could I trust the monitor? I worried. The technology was incredible, but this was my granddaughter after all. I was in charge. The heightened sense of responsibility in caring for a grandchild had me staring at the monitor with an unparalleled focus. A zoom function on the monitor, genius. I “zoomed” in on the sleep sack and waited for a panda to move. Happily, I observed the pandas dancing along with her every sleeping breath…
‘One of the greatest gifts I’ve ever been given is my granddaughter.’ Unknown
