Earlier this week as I was sitting at my kitchen table editing a piece about my son calling his sister a scrotum, my dad texted me. His message said that he had written something one day randomly at work and wanted to email it to me.
Instantly, I assume that it’s some kind of fake letter he had written in attempts to cheer me up. A large website had recently stolen a piece of my work and it would be so like my dad to write a funny (and offensive) email to this editor as a joke. My dad is my biggest fan and instantly morphs into protective Papa-Bear mode when someone does wrong by me. From my middle school cheerleading days to being my #1 blog fan, he’s always been there. Even as I am approaching thirty, my dad will still go to bat for me, even when I beg him not to.
His name is John, and he is all up on my blog page waiting to laugh and share the next post, as well as verbally assault the haters. He has always been defensive out of love.
I open the email, ready to laugh at sarcastic slurs and obscenities about our sweet thief, but it was something very different. He had written a heartfelt piece about his grandkids, my kids.
So today, for the first time and probably the only time, I have a guest post from the one we call “Pops”.
Because it was too sweet not to share.
A Pop’s Perspective.
Written By: Pops
Being the proud Pops of a sweet and beautiful grandbaby girl as well as a crazy cute “Grandstud”, I am reminded every time I see them just how precious they are. As well as how precious time is.
There is a definite collision, if you will, of these two realities every time my wife and I spend time with them. Without becoming too philosophical, it is quite apparent that when I am with my grandbabies, there is no doubt what season of life I am in. Let me share some moments with you that will better illustrate how my precious grandbabies frequently “collide” with my current season (let’s say these are hypothetical ok? Cool.)
1.Watching the Mickey Mouse Club with my 2-year-old grandson is quite entertaining. His face does not change expression; he becomes a Mickey Mouse Zombie. He’s got those deer in the headlight eyes, his mouth is wide open, and there is minimal movement…he is set. I on the other hand, am squinting because I can’t see the TV that is only five feet away from my face, which in result causes my nose to contort and do all sorts of disturbing things. My head is cocked to the left, so I can hear better, of course.
Yep, we are quite the pair. My expressionless grandson, who I have to nudge every now and then to ensure he’s still breathing, and me over here looking like I am doing absurd facial stretching exercises.
2. One thing I have always been famous for is my ability to catapult a tiny human several feet into the air. I own this move. I’ve practically made it a sport. Watching my babies, and now my grandbabies faces turn from sheer terror to a smile that says “that was fun, I trust you but I don’t really wanna do it again” is priceless.
I look like I’m having a real blast….
This activity has unexpectedly changed over the years. This now hurts me…like, physically hurts me. I must be out of practice, that’s the only logical explanation. I mean, look at me, THIS body can’t hurt! (My dad is trying to say that he is a physically fit specimen. He’s also modest and where I get my sarcastic banter from.) Nevertheless, every time I visit my Grandstud and Berks, they will be flying high!
It’s actually better now. Because we are both making similar faces throughout the “launch”. We both go from sheer terror and/or pain to relief. It’s awesome.
3. Lying on the playroom floor watching them play as I’m half asleep is another moment in time that I cherish deeply. This time takes me back to the early nineties when Cathy and I would play with our babies for hours. In my opinion, there’s not much in life that compares with these moments. I’ll sit and silently watch Von and Berkley pick up blocks, play with cars or open the pages of a book and wonder, What are they thinking? What are they learning? I truly love these times.
Toys were almost impossible to get out of the packaging even back in 1989.
4. I think the biggest difference between watching my own babies back in the day and watching my grandbabies now, is that moment when you smell that foul, pungent odor….you know what I’m talking about. Back in the day, I knew the moment I detected that smell that it was time to change a diaper. Now, I just wonder. Who it was? Was it Von? Berkley? Me? I don’t remember letting one slip but I guess I could have, who really cares? We just continue playing and ignore it.
I had another really good analogy here, but I can’t remember crap anymore so…
Who farted?…. who cares.
The precious moments I spend with Von and Berkley are priceless. This season we are in may be somewhere near the end of the third quarter, and while those precious “collisions with youth” are real, they are so worth it! Bring on my Grandstud! Bring on my Baby Berk! Bring on those damn collisions and body pains! And bring on the seasons of life! God knew what he was doing when he gave me this family.
There is absolutely no other place I would rather be in my life than right here, right now in this season. And that my friends was not a hypothetical statement!
Mustache and bangs.
If your kids have amazing grandparents, be sure to let them know how thankful you are for them!
…..and drop your child beasts off at their house and get the hell out of dodge. “THANKS MIMI & POPS, BYE!”
*Happy Birthday Berkley & Pops! 1/31*
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