In the book I am currently reading with Snowdrop (One Year in Coal Harbor), the uncle of the protagonist tells her the following -- "People and animals and trees and everything alive are born into circumstances they have no control over. Bad and unfair things, undeserved things happen to them every day. And knowing this and how lucky we are, we feel helpless and maybe a little guilty because by chance we were born into better circumstances. And we can't change that. We can't level the playing field. We can't make those circumstances not exist. But... we do have control in making undeserved good things happen. ... Maybe we don't live in a just universe. Maybe we live in a universe where all you have control over is your own kindness."
I thought about chance and how much happens without our input, howwe have far less control over circumstances than we would like to believe. I thought about all this as I hurried to the barn this morning...
Then hurried out to pick up baked goods at Madison Sourdough...
Then hurried from there to Sandpiper's school. (It's sort of on the way.) The little guy's class was celebrating grandparents: any grandparent of a child there was welcome to drop in and visit the classroom between the hours of 9 and 10:30 today. I was there promptly at 9. Because we're talking about grandparents, some came even earlier.
Sandpiper: the child who receives the least amount of attention here on Ocean, and probably out of all five, the least amount of grandparent oversight. Oh, I see him almost daily, at drop off times and of course on Sunday dinners and other special occasions. He always rushes over and confirms that I am indeed his grandmother and that he loves me very much. With a great big smile and a hug. That's the kind of boy he is.
But he was born in 2021 -- six years after Snowdrop, and Snowdrop was born when I was already approaching 62. Your mid sixties -- you still feel capable and at times even invincible. Like -- this retirement is no big deal! Unroll life's new challenges, please! In your early 70s, on the other hand, you find chasing a little one to be nothing short of exhausting. Your brain can't jump in and out of that playful mindset of a young child with any great dexterity. You feel akin to a sloth, hanging in there, preferably in a resting position.
The point is, Sandpiper does not get the same treatment that I gave Snowdrop or even Primrose or Sparrow. (And though Juniper is even younger, I do see her a lot when I spent time with the younger family as a whole.) You could say he got shortchanged in terms of intergenerational attention. Except, I really don't feel this boy to be particularly deprived. He has two older sibs who love him to pieces. And as they grow older and move their focus to those outside the home, he'll be the one who'll be noticed, admired, helped. Probably pampered.
In the meantime, when an occasion presents itself to show him some special love, you snatch it. This morning, I snatched it.
Happy, happy kid. Energetic as always. (He zipped through maybe a dozen work stations in the time I was there.)
Easy going, spunky, clever, playful. And always ready to give you his biggest smile. I have to think that that joyfulness comes easier to the youngest child. That the older ones have already lived through and survived the drama of being a year or two or three older.
Still, Snadpiper is stuck with an older grandma. So are the other kids by now -- yesterday in the car Snowdrop said "gaga, you are so talking like a grandmother!" But of course, I still have the power to shower him (shower Juniper) with hugs, and kisses and so much love...
Breakfast comes next and today is the day I finally break away from many many thousands of steps and climbs and sprints (I had quite the exercise streak going there!) and healthy breakfast cereals. Today is a day of decadence. Cinnamon rolls...
And plenty of couch time. And I tell you -- it feels great to exert not much effort at all at anything. After a month of intense movement, I have a day of stillness.
I do pick up the kids -- pajama day in school again??
It's drizzling outside. The kind of rain that doesn't help your garden but annoys you no end. Not a chance of getting me excited about outdoor work. A day off -- I can live with that! Reheated chili, a quiet evening at home reading, watching, listening.
with love...
