The Splash

You look at this photo and a thousand questions race through your mind. How can five children, holding hands and running toward the edge of the pool, possibly hit the water at the same time? Should they land at the same time? Will Zoomie (in red) and Heero (in blue) catch up with the rest of the group? Will Zoomie be able to keep a grip on his nose in the seconds to follow?

Will any unsuspecting swimmers be decapitated? Will the lady in the lounge chair behind the kids have a dry square inch left on her body? Is she thinking it might be about time to pack up her flip-flops and go home? 

Will the splash that is imminent make The Guinness Book of World Records? Do these kids have a future in synchronized swimming?

Let me assure you that the aforementioned splash was indeed huge--every time this scene was replayed during the course of last week. And luckily, no pool patron, either in or out of the water at any time, was harmed in the making of this picture.

Last week, all six grandkids came to Googie's house for a week of summertime fun. During the mornings they attended Kids College classes at our local community college. Sooby (who was busy talking to a friend during all of the splashing) attended a class in theatre arts; Bootsie designed beautiful creations in "Fabric Fun"; and Pooh explored the Oregon Trail. The other three boys attended the same workshop in Sensory Science, making tornadoes in bottles, making kinetic sand (one of the boys called it "Connecticut sand"), and constructing a primitive "lava lamp" from oil and water.

I think the thing that caught me by surprise most was the sheer amount of food six children can consume. It didn't take me long to learn that, when eating out at Steak 'n' Shake, the kids' menu is no longer an option. Thank goodness, though, for Sonic's half-price milkshakes after 8 p.m. Those gave everyone a chance to pick a special treat for just under $15.

At home we went through a large pot of navy beans and ham, a large pot of green beans with bacon and new potatoes, a large pot of chicken and noodles, a watermelon, three pans of cinnamon rolls, a big pot of corn on the cob, two blenders of banana-peanut butter smoothies, a 13 x 9" spaghetti casserole, two boxes of Texas toast, a huge bowl of fresh salad, a huge bowl of fruit salad--and those are just the things I can remember. It seemed like I was always planning a meal, grocery shopping while they were at school, cooking, or cleaning up the kitchen. That would be my only complaint if I had one--that and the fact that I sometimes forgot to factor in enough food for me and Pa-pa.

When we weren't eating, it was a week of Lego-building, superhero costumes, Barbie-dressing, and Ninja Turtle movies in the car while we were on the road. There was even a night when we reverted to our old habit of singing together at bedtime, with Pooh and me delivering our rousing rendition of "King of the Road" after everyone else had fallen asleep.

The pool picture offers a good visual metaphor for our week together, the week when all the grandkids joined hands and plunged into the otherwise ordinariness of my summer. The house is quiet now that they are gone, and I miss them.

On the Verge

I was not ready for this birthday. It might as well have crept up behind me and thrown a gunny sack over my head. Although I am usually more than excited for birthdays, this one totally blind-sided me.

I don't mean my own birthday, the one that came a month ago today and pushed me a notch closer to that next big decade. I mean the one that sneaked up yesterday and hammered me like a hurricane. Yesterday was the twelfth birthday of my first grandchild, the original Googie-maker. And as candles flickered atop a cheesecake in Kansas--and Sooby shopped for the first earrings for her newly pierced ears--I was here in Missouri thinking about her standing there on the threshold of her teens.

I don't know how to do this. With the six grandkids coming in a space of six years, I am used to thinking of "kid" things for us to make and eat and play and do. Now that one of those children is a beautiful young lady, I am anticipating the first major change in our dynamic. The teens open up territory I have not explored in a while. My step feels a little uncertain here.

The photo above shows Sooby a week ago tonight with her bag of early birthday presents from Pa-pa and me. Since her brother's birthday falls five days before hers, we often celebrate the two of them in one trip. Still, I have saved a few thoughts and wishes to share with her tonight.

Happy birthday, Sooby-Soo. Just last weekend your cousins and I were looking at a digicam video I took of you, Pooh, and Bootsie when you were not yet four. You were lying on the floor, giggling, with an orange bristle block on your belly button. I barely blink, and here you are today with a pretty new orange dress, a sweet smile, and--always--those gorgeous blue eyes. Where did those eight years go?

Pa-pa and I are certainly proud of you for your achievements in school, music, and 4-H, but the thing that touches us most is your kind heart, your thoughtfulness toward others, and your wish to do what is good and right. I used to cringe when you were always wanting to help in the kitchen, but now I welcome that help. You bake great desserts and can cook up a mean griddle full of bacon and pancakes. I imagine that is something that will just keep getting better as you check off those teen years.

As the oldest, you will be the one who blazes the teen trail just ahead of your siblings and cousins. When your new little brother arrives in a few months, you will be a great help for your mama and an able caregiver for him.

And, if the cause is not hopeless, you may be able to re-train me to interact appropriately with a teenager. I can't help thinking we are on the verge of a great new adventure. We have a year to figure that one out, and I'm betting we will be okay.