Davis Tales with Gramma

Davis Day 1
Jenny left shortly before noon and the goodbye was seamless as the big D was in his wagon heading off for a ride. I managed lunch and even got him down for a nap after 15 minutes of shushing, rocking and back rubbing. Daddy made it home early from school and we had a nice dinner and played on the swings. This won't be so hard after all!
Davis Day 2
I heard Davis at 6:35 (he had been awake for 20 minutes already) and jumped in the shower and scrambled into clothes. No time for hair or makeup - I have a date with a real VIP and he does not care about stuff like that. I am a bit nervous. How will the day go? After feeding D his breakfast Daddy is out the door and we wave goodbye and D pushes the garage door button. This is a morning ritual. D dug into playing with toys and I dug into vacuuming. I took all the toys out of the living room and D had a ball playing with them in the hall. I moved the coffee table off the area rug and D ran in circles on it, round and round. He paused long enough to run over and put my hand on the vacuum to turn it on again. I vacuum and he runs. I decided to take a trip to Wal-mart and was so pleased that D got right into his car seat. He held my hand in the parking lot and sat in the cart in the store. As long as I kept moving we did alright. I let him get out in the toy department thinking we would toddle about and look at toys (silly Gramma!). He grabs 2 items and took off running. I threw him over my shoulder and got him into the cart with a 5 dollar toy golf set. Worth every penny. We head over to groceries and he sat in the basket and played with what I threw in. It was getting towards lunch time and I stopped at the deli for something for me to eat when we got home. I decided on some popcorn shrimp that came in a cup with a clear domed lid. Low cal and nutritious. The minute D spied it he lunged for the shrimp. No manner of hiding, bait and switch or voodoo would work and he got the cup and held on for dear life. I gave him a piece and he started shoving them in his mouth like he had never had a meal. I tried again to get the cup away. Now, I am certainly wiling to share or even let him eat them all, but words like seafood allergy start popping into my head. He munches and I worry. I tell the check out girls the plan and she gets the scanner gun ready. I grab, she scans and the cup is back in D's hand just as he is opening his mouth to howl. Smooth move! When it is time to get into the car I try again and fail miserably. The cup stayed firmly in his grasp while buckling him into his seat, getting home and out of the car and into the wagon, down the street and even while he was pushing the wagon with one hand. He finally relinquished the cup in exchange for his new golf set. After a bit more lunch her merrily grabbed my hand to get a golf lesson. I would show him how to hold the club and wham! His own personal style involved holding all 3 clubs and swatting at the ball as fast as he can. He also loved rolling the cart around. It was nap time and with blankie in hand we went up up up the stairs and into the rocking chair for another shushing session. It was like wrangling a cat in a pillow case for about 1 minute and then he calmed down and was out. Daddy got home early again and we had fun visiting and had an early dinner of burritos. We all headed outside so Eric could cut up branches and I could week. D sat down in the dirt for a serious digging session. At one point he saw the extra fancy weed digger I had and handed me his shovel as he trained his eyes on my digger. I gladly traded. This boy does not say a word but is a master at non-verbal communication. He took time out to try to pick up the neighbor's dog and then was right back to work. He grabbed a toy shovel and commenced to carrying spoonfuls of dirt from the flower pot over to his lawn chair where he dumped it on the seat. He made trip after trip with great intensity. He would study the chair and when he saw some dirt slightly over the edge he carefully pushed it back into place. Finally, her climbed up into the chair and sat on the dirt and moved it around carefully with his fingers. I know why he does not talk. His brain is so fully engaged in analyzing the nuances of every situation that it is not able to process language. He will talk when he has explored enough and is ready to move on. Hopefully, I am right. After the dirt it is bath time, prayers and off to bed.
Davis Day 3
We are all tired when we get up at the same early time. Davis never really settles into play and so around 11 I decide to go to the town homes to play on the swings. Yesterday's gorgeous weather is now hot. He is lukewarm about swinging and wants to walk all the way to the other playground but does not really want to do much there. He wanders around with Gramma in tow and starts climbing onto all the play things on every one's porches. We are both hot and have had enough. There is no way he is going to get into his car seat, as witnessed by extreme back arching and screaming. The movie! I turn on the car and hit play and he grins and jumps in. All those pediatrician's who say no TV until age 2 have never met Davis. It is now late and he is hungry and thank goodness for Sonic 2 blocks away. I pull into a shady spot and quickly order chicken nuggets and a large diet coke. He munches, I sip in peace and quiet. Whew, we made it. Home it is and the same nap routine only earlier. He is one tired boy. After nap time, Daddy comes home and we head for the park. It is cooler now. The park is blocked off. Bummer. Townhouses it is. We run into Tyler with his fishing pole which D decided he wants right now. Tyler sure is good to share. After awhile it is hot, we drive to Applebee's Car side to go (all of this stuff was invented just for Eric and Jenny) and are on our way home with a hot meal. The only problem is, it is 6:15 by the time we get home and dinner time is 5:30. Davis has a moderate meltdown due to hunger and has to be held and cajoled by Daddy and finally settles into a meal. Whew. After little clock watching it is bedtime again. Yeah!
Davis Day 4:
We all wake up to thunder and lightening at 6:15. I am in the shower and get D closer to 7. After Daddy feeds him breakfast, well, you know the drill. Rainy day. Wonder what we will do? I was going to go buy ant spray (mini invasions going on} but will save that trip for another time. D is his sunny self and settles into some serious play. He intensely gathers toys and puts them into his wagon and pushes it all over the house. I sit on the couch and doze a bit and am at the ready when the wrench needs to be removed from the wheel of the wheel barrow. D's hand pulling me to it is the clue. He is so involved I don't interrupt with the 10:00 snack (stupid Gramma). At 10:45 I suggest banana time and we toddle into the kitchen where he want something and is miffed as I am getting the banana ready. He goes to bang on the pantry door and is howling. But I am a banana so no big deal. Wrong. He takes one look and screams and throws himself to the floor and pushes the banana away. Uh, oh. The banana is the sure thing. He is in full tantrum now and crying like his heart will break. I try to pick him up and his resistance is such that there is no way. I cannot figure out how I cannot pickup a 32 pound kid, but I can't. Tears start falling down my cheeks. He must be missing his Mama and is so sad. He writhes on the floor and starts that gulping kind of crying. I get his juice cup, a new banana, turn on Cinderella, his favorite movie and sit on the couch by the TV. If I look at him he wails louder so I hold out the cup and food with my eyes glued to the TV waiting for the little mice part. I sneak peaks and the more the mice squeak, the more often he looks out from behind the chair. Inch by inch he comes out and pretty soon there is a big grin on his face. Finally he wonders up, climbs on my lap and eats bananas and watches Gus picking up the broken beads. He lays in my lap and wriggles all around and we both watch the movie and have both quit crying. After the movie, I start to make lunch and we start to melt down. I am cooking grilled cheese and wants to help. He is so tall now his little hand can almost reach the top of the stove. This is not good. A large plastic spoon pacifies him and I finally get it done. He is hungry and tired and won't eat, won't sit in his high chair, but finally eats a peach slice while I wonder what on earth to feed him. He finally starts eating his sandwich and I breathe a sigh of relief. I am determined to get him outside after lunch as he is so happy there. I get him dressed and in a dry diaper and out the back door we go to blow bubbles. It starts to rain. Oh, no! I grab him and no way is he going back in, so I scoop him up and run for the front door and the huge umbrella. He is amazed. We are walking in the rain and are not wet. He looks up inside the umbrella and we set off for a short walk. Hah! We keep going and going. He stops and looks up inside the umbrella and listens to the rain hitting it. He looks up at me with a huge grin, wide eyes, and a look of total wonder on his face. Now that was worth the entire morning! He then discovers the gutter and decides he has to walk in it. Thank goodness for Crocks. Walking in the gutter- what more could a boy want? To sit in the gutter. And he did and why not? That is what Grammas are for. We have nothing better to do. He finds sticks and rocks and explores and is no longer willing to hold my hand or the umbrella handle. Uh,oh. This is a strict rule. I take his hand, he stages another sit down strike and so I have no choice. I throw him over my shoulder and head for the door. I patiently explain how the umbrella is going in the corner to dry off and open the door. He is back out and onto the umbrella in 2 shakes of a lamb's tail. He starts to run away down the hill and I once again scoop him up and throw him in the front door, and shut and lock it. He immediately screams and I have to pull up the blinds so that he will not trash them. He had not had much to drink and I am thinking a cup of milk might be good. He wants to play in the fridge but I manage to pull him out. I yank off his wet shorts, shirt and diaper. He smiles. Of course. He is naked. I wrestle him into a dry shirt and diaper and grab the cup and say up up up. But he is not going. So I grab him and somehow we make it up to his room and shut the door. He wrestles out of my arms and runs for the door. I can hear him but not see him. I open the door and amazingly enough he does not fight when I pick him up. He struggles in my arms, but only for a moment. He sips milk, I rock and shush. And then I remember that I forgot his blanket. I panic. What if he won't go to sleep? He relaxes in my arms and I put him into his crib and he snuggles into the other two blankets. I run for the door and down the stairs. I collapse into the recliner and look at the path of destruction.
Jenny is a saint. It is amazing that she has not lost her mind. And I know why. It is the grin. The soft thighs. And the look of wonder. It makes it all worthwhile. I hope she has had a nice time at camp. She comes home tomorrow. I think I can make it for 20 more hours. Heaven help them all, especially when the new baby comes!
Davis Days? The were wonderful and ask me again and I will come on a dead run.