Today is the exact mid-point between my birthdays. As a kid, I always wanted a second birthday - you know, back when getting older seemed to have all the perks. Besides, my birthday is close to Christmas and a spring present opportunity seemed a good gig. Gifts aside, I finally got my second birthday - two days before the original one. Tomorrow I will be 57 (gasp), but yesterday I turned 11. So I guess I'm 34 today. Maybe you can follow my math but question my logic, but I assure you there is logic there - somewhere... Eleven years ago yesterday, my original grandboy was born, and along with it, the birth of this Granma.
That baby boy Bryce was pink and wrinkly when he was born - pink when he wasn't testing his lungs, which made him more fuchsia - but still 100% blue. From those very first hours, he taught me to be a Granma. He taught me to share (him - with his parents). He taught me to eat yogurt off of chubby, sticky, outstretched fingers (I still hate the stuff, but I obliged him out of love). He reminded me that even after reading the same book 25,000 times, you still can't skip a page. Of course, you don't actually have to "read" it, either. It just rolls off your tongue (and through your nightmares).
As he grew he learned that even average hurts to a small body are huge - I lesson I wish I could have spared him. Hugs and kisses might not vanquish all those hurts, but they are good salve for the soul - both of our souls.
Together we have conquered merry-go-rounds and water slides and roller coasters. We proved that you are never too old for Disney - not at 11 or 34 or 57... or 114 for that matter. Bryce tried to teach me about Mario Cart - unsuccessfully - and more recently about Minecraft and Pokemon. Alas, with the same results. I taught him to play Monopoly, first of the Junior variety and then the real game. The rules of the adult version include no more blind-eyed Granma letting him cheat to win. It is a lesson he learned well. Winning is now a shared talent. Sometimes he even cheats to lose just so the game won't end as quickly. (Monopoly and end quickly = oxymoron!)
It doesn't feel like 11 years ago. I don't feel like 57, either. Maybe I'll just lay claim to 34 for awhile. I love sharing this birthday season with you, Bryce. And I love you!!! Happy Birthday!!!!