Gramsie-Grams

We've just returned from a lovely, family filled visit to Kansas. P was sooo looking forward to this trip, as he really wanted to run over little BB with his Kansas combine (we created BBB after our last visit home). Little BB was taunted for days before we left, "BB, I'm going to mow you up!" Phoenix could barely contain his anticipation, lapsing in his "when will we get to my combine" queries only long enough to ask "when will Grams play with me?"

I lucidly remember that the defiant responses I was prone to in childhood met with steely glares and try that again dares. But P's self assured stances just receive heady laughter from his loving Grams. She thinks he's the funniest little thing on earth. Ahhh, the beauty of having grandchildren. But, typically, this laissez faire handling of autonomous offspring can only be maintained because said children Leave at the end of the day. Not us! My folks are stuck with us for the whooooole month. So E and I were truly touched that for our entire stay my mom's funny bone was tickled rather than ticked off.

P felt a Lot more independent this trip. And his independence worried me much less than in the past; a fabulous combo for both of us. Long gone are the days that he'd patter off and pop someone's pills, get lost in the huge house, wander aimlessly towards the pool or touch every breakable he could reach. (We're loving FOUR, and how much he Gets. I mean, shiny objects are still really, really appealing, but he'll chat with me first about his approach. And gawd only knows we've done enough pretend play with BB taking someone else's pills that that particular drama won't be re-enacted in real life!) So, feeling his freedom and fine with the absence of my worried shadow he wandered the house stalking my mother every chance he got.

(True to his genetic predisposition, pet names have come naturally to P. E is lovingly called "Papi," I'm occasionally "Mamo," and Grams has morphed into "Gramsie-Grams." Gramsie-grams-grams when he's hatched a plan :) And hatch he did. On a daily basis. He innately knew my mother is his sucker and would tell her his bidding. Mama is washing dishes, well then, Grams will get me my chocolate milk. I want some brownies, well then, I'll tell Grams to make some for me. Yes indeedy, the kid made himself at home.)

When she wasn't beings stalked or running errands for the little man, he would request a game or a book. His particular favorite this visit was a mechanical fishing game. The first time he played it he sat for Two Hours straight, fishing. He invited BB to fish too, giggling as he grabbed BB's fish, only to kiss the monster and give the fish back. Then he got Grams going on it. Apparently, Grams hadn't had the afternoon to practice and was having a harder time hooking something. She asked P his advice, saying he really knew how to get those fish. He fixed her with his eyes and said "Focus, Grams." She laughed on that one for the rest of the month.

So it was fortunate for us that Grams and Gramps had business in the Big Apple the same week we returned home. P was Not ready to let loose of his Gramsie. He understood the timeline, I told him they would be here for a few days before we saw them and then Grams could play again. As our taxi whizzed past the city's skyline from the airport P asked where exactly Grams was right then. We pointed out an approximate landmark and carried on home. That night, as we lay down to sleep P wistfully asked, "Grams knows we have a couch that turns into a bed? " Yes, I said, you told her. "Why she not sleep here then Mama?"

When Grams did arrive in Brooklyn, P practically pulled her arm off leading her around his house, the tree he and Papa bought, the pirate ship, the couch that turns into a bed, hint hint. At the end of the day, as she kissed him goodbye, he reminded her, again, about the couch, saying she didn't have to go, she could just live with us :) Personally, I'm hoping the kid gets to her... there's an open apartment just beneath us if the couch sounds too small....