Every Day Was a Party, Part 1

    Yesterday afternoon my daughter Maria and my two granddaughters returned to       Los Angeles after a week's visit.
   

    After helping Maria schlepp kids, suitcases, car seats, carry-ons and a stroller to the airport then through check-out and security we waved one last good-bye then walked away from the gate holding each others' hand.
    "A shame they couldn't have stayed longer,"  Tom sighed.  "Another week or two."
    "If only they lived closer,"  I sighed, "like right around the corner."
    I know grandparenting is a different game if you have grandchildren who live close by and who you see regularly than if if your grandchildren live on the other side of the country and you see them for intense week-long stretches only a few times a year.
    I, by fate, fall into the latter category.

    Tom and I tell ourselves that this is a good thing because our daughter and her family are well and happy living in sunny Los Angeles,

and because it gives us someplace to travel to,

    ...and because every visit with our grandchildren is a special occasion, for us as well as them.

    Of course, it doesn't take much to create a special occasion for a  a 4-year-old,

...or a 2-year-old.

That is to say, it doesn't take much besides every minute of your time,

...and an unqualified ageeableness  to having your house in a state of joyful, messy chaos,

    ...in which state our house has been for the past week.
    But I knew this was only a special occasion mess, though it brought me back to those days when my house was in a permanent state of child-induced sprawl.    And I found myself recalling the the words I used to say to my children under my breath when they were young :

    It's lucky you're so cute!
    To be continued...