It's always eerily quiet when the girls go home. This time they have been here for four whole days while their parents took a short vacation. We have done it all, this weekend, everything from baking, to shopping, to church, and even trampoline jumping. It has been a nonstop whirlwind, and I wouldn't trade a second of it for all the world. I love being a grandmother.
After the cacophony of noise at the parent's arrival, and the subsequent departure, I sat in my recliner for a few minutes and just breathed. And listened to the deafening silence. I have felt it before, the eerieness that comes when the girls have gone, in the absence of noise. It takes a few minutes of getting used to.
I reflected as I sat back in my chair, that the girls are growing up. Not once, in the whole four days we had them, did the blocks, or the trains, or even the puzzles come out of the toy closet. Nobody got out any dolls, or play food from the toy kitchen. Nobody took my order, and then served me plastic food on a tiny plastic plate, as in days past. These days, when we are hanging around upstairs, as we always have, it's nonstop cartoons. And they are reading! And for the first time, they are old enough for the "big kid" rides at the trampoline park, and by that, I mean zip lining, and the rock climbing walls. This time they were old enough to go into the big obstacle course, maze thing, without us hovering around, watching every single move they made. We sat down at the table and enjoyed some pop corn while they wore themselves out. I still kept a razor sharp eye on them, but I just didn't worry as much as when they were little. When they were little. I just realized what I just wrote and it makes me feel kind of sad. They were just babies, weren't they? Tiny little newborns, with tiny little onesies, and tiny little diapers, and precious little smiles, with that new baby smell?
I can hardly believe it, as I watch my once tiny little granddaughter zip by me at full speed, high above my head. I'm so happy for her, joyful that she is brave enough to try it for the first time, and excited that she loves it, and wants to do it again and again.
My older granddaughter wants to try it, so badly. She bravely ascends the steps, and waits in line. I watch her, knowing she is nervous. I can tell by her body movements that she is not comfortable, but willing to go as far as to get in the harness. But she is not ready. She steps to the edge and then....no. I see her coming back down and it breaks my heart. She tries so hard. But I am confident that she will do it. Every time she goes up, she gets a little closer to jumping off the edge. Taking the leap. But not yet. I think, when she finally makes that leap, we will be whooping and hollering loud enough to wake the dead with joy that she has finally overcome her fear. And if she never does, that is Ok with us, too. She can go at her own speed, or no speed at all, if she chooses.
We decided, after the trampoline park, that we would go to Hobby Lobby and pick up some kind of small craft for them to do on Sunday after church, while we wait for the parents. I let the girls choose, and even here, they are showing me how much they have grown. We passed up everything Bluey, everything Crayola, even the velvet marker posters, and then both of them, almost at the same time, saw what they wanted. Arya wanted a coloring book, but not just any coloring book, it was one of those very intricate, almost adult coloring books, that you could use fancy markers with, or even watercolors. Claire picked out, of all things, paper dolls! And she loved them.
We got home and they couldn't wait to open their new stuff. Arya got right into my Sharpies and started coloring her new book. Claire and I started punching out paper dresses and putting together the paper princesses.
The thing that impressed me the most, however, was that she was so willing to share with her sister. She let Arya take one of the paper dolls, and dress it with some of the paper clothes. They played with those paper dolls all evening and into the next day.
And I am fairly certain that Arya will reciprocate with her coloring book. The girls rarely fight, although they sometimes verbally spar. They share with each other and they care for each other in a way that I never did with my siblings. When Claire came off the zip line for the first time, Arya was right there to grab her tight and hug her. She was so worried about her "little sister" as she calls her.
Today we took the girls to Sunday School and "Big Church" and then came home and lolled around for awhile, with the cartoons, and the paper dolls, and the coloring book. I knew the parent's arrival was imminent, right around dinner time, so I made them a "picnic" for them to take with them. This is a paper bag with a PB and J sandwich, a bag of chips, some applesauce, a cookie, and a drink. They love these Pic a nics, as I call them. Claire hates that. She always corrects me. Gramma, it's a PIC NIC! Not a pic a nic! I showed her a cartoon short of Yogi and Boo Bear, but she still doesn't believe me.
I love those girls so much.
I am so tired. But I wouldn't change a thing.
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