I’m sitting here in my living room.
When I talked with Mom earlier today, she asked what was going on. I told her that there were some errands I had to run. (Dog food. We’re out. Again! That guy eats like a horse!)
She offered to watch Baby while I went.
I considered: my husband says he’s not so sure about Mom watching the kids. If she can’t even take care of herself, how can she be trusted with the girls?
But then I recall that Mom really loves having her. Mom actually glows and giggles! This from a 69-year-old woman who has been threatening to keel over from a heart attack for nearly 20 years. Those kids make her healthier. (She’s in the best shape she’s been in years since she moved here. I blame that on the kids.)
I get to run my errands in peace. Which doesn’t sound like much, but for anyone who has shopped in a big-box store (or two) with two children under the age of 7, you know what I’m talking about. It’s hard enough navigating the aisles of Wal-Mart to find the environmentally-friendly outdoor porch light bulbs without being screamed at because Baby wants to “flop on the couch and watch TV” while Firstborn moans that she doesn’t WANT to walk. She wants to ride in the cart. “Why does she get to? It’s not FAIR!”
And Baby loves going. Because Grandma Chiquita will let her raid the fridge and pantry. And take her shopping at the gift shop in her building, apparently. And watch SpongeBob Squarepants.
Eww. But a small price to pay for such happiness.