The Absurdity of Grandmas

They began to arrive the week before Christmas. Grandbabies. Lots and lots of wonderful, sweet grandbabies. From then until Tuesday, February 1, we had somebody here. It was a world of giggles and grins! Tuesday morning, the last of the babies left when Jamie took Ethan and Hailey Kate and flew back to Delaware. Tuesday afternoon and evening, I washed sheets and made beds. I folded up pak-n-plays and wiped down the booster seats to put away. I hunted for Fisher Price people in the couch cushions. I vacuumed up Cheerios and mopped up something sticky from the floor. I unlocked the water button on the front of the refrigerator door. I marveled at the number of little hand prints on the mirror, but I left them there. I scrubbed the crayon art off of the headboards of the beds. I fished the frog, pretend cupcakes, measuring cups, teaspoons and the turkey baster out of the bathtubs. I emptied trash cans full of diapers and wet wipes. I put away the Johnson's baby soap and lotion. I searched under couches and chairs until I found all the pieces of the puzzle. I found goldfish in the oddest places. I reorganized the snacks on the shelves in the pantry, and moved the chair back into the kitchen where it belongs. I washed the little pink snowsuit and put it away in a box in the basement. I gathered up the colored pictures and a multitude of crayons. I looked at my bed, which I had put clean sheets on four days ago. My side still hadn't been slept in, but the rocker in the family room was covered in blankets and pillows where I had rocked a baby with an ear ache for the last four nights. I found a bib in the kitchen, and a car seat in my car. I listened to the quiet until it made my ears hurt. Every few minutes, a tear would escape and trickle down my cheek, and the whole time I kept thinking over and over and over, "I sure hope they come back again soon."