Friday, February 25, 2022

Snow Day

Local schools were closed today because of snow.  Not so much snow as to make life impossible, but enough that it was difficult for the school buses to run and unlikely that all the kids would be delivered safely and on time.  

We have been watching the baby full time for a bit over a month; 8:45 to 5:30, Monday through Friday.  When I saw the announcement about the schools, I teased my husband by saying that most day care centers were also closed, so why weren’t we?   He is a jokester, but not generally a tease, but without saying anything to me, he called his daughter and told her that our daycare should be closed today, a snow day, because the schools were closed.    I do not know what she said to him, but what I thought was going to be a joke turned sour and then he rather stiffly responded that yes, we would be willing to take the baby for a few hours in the afternoon, from noon to four.   It seemed apparent that, whatever was said, they had hurt each other’s feelings.  By the time they hung up, he had made a comment about ‘not living in the real world,’ and responsibility to have a back up plan.

The little guy was dropped off without the usual visit or banter at noon.  He is adorable, and always so happy and excited to see us.  He is getting busier every day;  crawling and standing and climbing and touching everything he can reach; extremely active but still too clumsy to trust without constant attention lest he get hurt.  He and I are the best of pals and we had a lovely day; a lovely lunch, a lovely book and cuddle, several diapers, a lovely time of endless exploration, and a lovely too-short nap.  When his mother came to pick him up at 4:30, she and her dad had a tense conversation and I took the baby into another area to amuse him while they talked.  She told him that perhaps she and the child’s father would just put the baby in paid day care, full time.  My husband told her that he did not like the idea, with the pandemic still going strong, but that it was, of course, their decision.  She has not yet investigated or priced that option and I will be curious to see whether she does and what she learns. 

All I really know is that we did miss our little grand when he was not here this morning, but also that we were grateful for an extra cup of coffee and time to do a chore or two, and that we were exhausted again when he left, even on this shortened day.  We sat this evening by the fire, with no energy to talk or plan or do much of anything, as we have done each evening for the past few weeks.  We are grateful these days, for the first time in years, when finally it is Friday.  Saturday is our only real day off, and it will be spent on laundry and shopping and errands and chores; Sunday is Dominoes Day when I will need to clean and cook for our company.  We are feeling our ages, and taking a regular dose of ibuprofen.   We love our littlest grandbaby; we give him all the energy we have during the day, and he and we are happy to be together.  There is no crying at Grandma’s house, but it takes a fair amount of work for that to be true, especially since our house is not built for babies, with hard floors and many steps.    It is hard enough when there are two of us here, but it is often the case - with doctor appointments and other individual obligations — that only one of us is with the baby.   And it takes a toll on our old bodies.  Part of that toll is physical, because our day is spent in constant following and lifting and cleaning and entertaining.  But part of it, too, is caused by the feeling that the effort we give is easy, expected and somehow owed.  And perhaps we are just needy because, while surely what we do must be appreciated, it sometimes feels like it is not appreciated quite enough.