Beautiful Boy

She watched intently as the skinny little boy with the curly blonde hair played on the rooftop terrace of the hospital. His mother, her daughter, was in surgery again for the fourth time in a little over a year. She knew that Beautiful Boy was worried and gazed at him with the concern of a grandmother. He was so handsome with his enchanting smile and quick wit, but she worried about what was hidden behind those smiling brown eyes. Rays of the soft autumn sunshine that fell on his sweet face made her think that God indeed had special plans for this young child. He watched with a knowing look as the scarlet and tangerine colored leaves fell from their homes on the stately maple trees that were planted on the manicured grounds of the hospital. They gracefully floated down, gliding with the breeze and coming to rest around the life giving roots of those trees. Soon they would decompose and the cycle of life would begin once more. Beautiful Boy was bright enough to know that all things must come to an end; he just prayed that this wasn't the time that God would call his mother home.
He had endured much loss in his eight years, he deserved a break. The angels took his baby brother, Isaiah, home just 12 weeks after he had been born on the second floor of this very hospital. Two years later his baby brother Josiah was born three months early. Everyone was afraid of angels also coming for this baby, but they didn't. Josiah came home three months later healthy and thriving. During this time Beautiful Boy had to endure the death of his great grandmother, although to him she was more of a grandmother, especially since she was about the age of his friends' grandmothers. Beautiful Boy had to watch the grief of his mom and her mom, a grief that seemed to never end and left them lost in a hazy fog. He took what he had witnessed and hid it deep in his heart behind barriers of smile and sparkling eyes.
Then came the Baby Diva, also born three months early. Beautiful Boy was frightened once again, more now that he was older. He still wasn't old enough to put into words what he felt, but you could see it in his soft brown eyes. Several weeks later the family got the terrible news that his mom's Papa Airplane had died of a broken heart at the loss of his wife the year before. Beautiful Boy's eyes now carried a deeper sadness that was hidden behind the twinkle he always had and the ever present smile on that handsome dimpled face. But a grandmother can see these things and worried about him.
She continued to watch him take in God's world that perfect fall day. The dormant Mt Hood was to the east. Snow was beginning to cover its picturesque peaks. He watched the birds flying in and out of the scarlet and orange trees. He thought and wondered about not only his mommy, but about life itself and just how fragile it is. Beautiful Boy had learned lessons that many adults take decades to learn and he knew that it wasn't over yet.

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Glamma's

Several things hit me in the face today that challenged both my mothering abilities as well as my grand mothering ability. First I read this article on MSN about the new tradition of “Glam-mas”. They’re grandmothers that have little to do with their grandchildren. Well, I love my grandchildren and have lots to do with them after they grow a little. I don’t really do babies very well any more. Squeally, smelly, pukey little things. You cant put then down, well you can, but the dog might walk off with them , or another older child might hide them in the laundry basket. You can’t take them shopping without an entourage to carry the huge amounts of stuff that you have to have to take a baby anywhere before they can walk and talk. Diaper bags, bottles, huge-ass strollers that never work the way they should, then the baby carrier. It never fits the stroller correctly and you always end up carrying the thing for hours or until your arm grows numb and the carrier slips off and the baby falls out. No, that’s more that I want to handle.
I like them when they can walk and talk. Diapers don’t bother me, mainly because Nikki does diaper duty. But when they’re about two and up I love them. We can shop, play, draw and cook. I can be Nana to the fullest and buy whatever I want for them. CoCo knows that the most important thing for girls is shoes! She’s a fast study and we need to go shoe shopping very soon, lest she forget.
Then just after I read that damned article about Glam-mas, I watched Brothers and Sisters. Nora Walker is the mom, which Karli says I am. But she was so tuned in to her kids, especially Kitty tonight that just adopted one of those little parasites that will turn into a beautiful two year old, if Kitty doesn’t die of exhaustion, lack of showers and baby stuff overload before then. Anyway, Nora took the baby for the night and drew a bubble bath for Kitty and let her sleep as long as she wanted. Karli leaves the baby with me and I’m counting the seconds until she gets back. That is if I get trapped into watching her. But let me be clear, I do love them very much. And to top it off, last night at the hospital I stayed with Karli until 1:30 AM. Then I just left her. I left her in the hospital all alone. She still had tests to do, but no, I took off, I ran back to my comfy bed and left her on that god-forsaken purple pad the hospital calls a bed. My baby was all alone for those last two hours. I’m a bad mom………..and I am a “glam-ma”……….I need a drink and maybe some retail therapy!

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