Sunday, July 31, 2011

Way Past Midnight

Tonight, I woke at 11 pm when the Irksome Middle Child called to say she wanted to talk. Rats. I didn't want to talk so late at night, especially when I had to be at work in a half hour, so I told her that my mind was still in a cryogenic state and to call at a reasonable hour....and I hung up and then I remembered, "Ah, our bakery is closed on Sundays....no work for me, tonight, and I drifted happily back to sleep, having escaped both work and a talking to by my daughter....she's been on my case, lately. Something about not living up to expectations or suchlike.

I realized today, that I hate being a grandparent. No, no...I don't hate my new grandson. Not at all. I hate being a grandparent. It sucks! Now that the munchkin is crawling, I have to ONCE AGAIN baby-proof the house. Which MEANS....I have to pick up stuff off the floor that can be eaten. Which is usually NOT edible. I have to plug up electrical outlets and put latches on cabinets and gates up in doorways and the stairwell.

Oh yeah, and I forgot. I don't do doting all that well. I never doted on my kids the way their father has. The man worships his girls, and now, he dotes on the boy. And the boy, in turn expects it from him.

He tries with me, but I make a note of his crying, check his diaper and bottle and if he can be neutralized in a location with toys, I'm all about that. But cooing and doting? Not really. Okay. A little. Just. A little.

Grampa's the Dote. I'm the antidote.

Here. Have some Carmen McRae. It's late and I'm up all night.



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