Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Happy birthdays to me!

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!!!!

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