It's almost noon and time for Laura to pick up little Ruth from her morning Daisy Days Camp. That was my duty and privilege for the last week and I am missing it right now. She would greet me with such a happy smile and say, "Grandma!" This was true even yesterday although she had howled all the way to her brothers' camp, "I don't want Grandma to pick me up. I want Mommy to pick me up." Slights are quickly forgotten when you are two years old, I guess. I miss her saying, "Grandma, can I help you?" or "I want to do it myself." Life slows down when you have a two year old wanting to dress herself, buckle herself into her car seat, and stir Kraft Mac 'n Cheese in a very hot pan.
It's noon and I'm doing my third load of laundry. I've done some cleaning and picking up around the house. I've made phone calls about financial matters which is always upsetting to me because it involves stuff I don't really understand. I need to get groceries and check my church garden.
I'm grumpy and irritable and probably going through the transition from being Grandma, with its joys and tensions, to being just me again.
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