glad for kids

In this long week, some pictures were found on my camera, and they're sweet.

 Okay that's her after she decorated cooky number two and decided to just go ahead and EAT.

Oh my goodness, just looking at her silly face makes me laugh.

Thursday night we drove out to Wisconsin for the Christmas program at the school where the grandchildren are students.

It was lovely and angelic. I cuddled my littlest grandchild and thought a lot about my own grandma, and what it means to be a grandma, and breathed in and breathed out.  Exuberant kids were everywhere, as they should be on the night of a school concert, and it was beautiful.

And that brings us to now, with another snowstorm upon us and Christmas only ten days away.   Tonight I crouched in the subterranean plumbing office, wrapping a zillion, (no only like 50 or 60) stocking stuffer gifts, quickly cutting and folding corners like origami over and over, and while I was on the phone with my mother,  Jay appeared in the doorway and asked why?

"Why lotion??"

(Target dollar aisle lotion at $1/ea.)

I was rude and snapped, "Why not? You want me to fill their stockings with Rolex watches?"

No, that wasn't it. What is the concept of Christmas stockings at all?

I told him I'm not dealing with Guyland tonight.   Go away.  Go back to Guyland. Chuck a pumpkin or dynasty a duck or something.

He kissed me and laughed.

At least he's good-natured.  And he smells nice, and has those gorgeous soft lips.

We are going to be OKAY.  We survived when Grandpa died almost five years ago, though I don't know how we did.  And we will survive this, no matter how agonizing the pain is this week, we really don't have any choice.

I'm only surprised by how very deep this well of tears is, how the hurt extends around the ribs, how tears infest my hair and clog my throat.

Onward.  Love never ends.

love always, Val