Boys' Night Out

This afternoon, my mom and I went to a baby shower. And when I got back home, my husband and baby were nowhere to be found. I shot off a quick text message and found out that they were visiting Ryan’s grandfather, “Pappy”. I immediately got this image in my head:

This photo was taken in the hospital just hours after Ryan was born. It’s one of my very favorites. There’s something so special about having the three generations of men together. And although I’m sure the energy level right now is considerably higher than it was the day this photo was taken (particularly for the youngest member of the trio), today’s “boys’ day out” is every bit as special as that one was.

And I’m thoroughly enjoying the resulting quiet house. I checked my e-mail without one eye on the baby monitor that sits next to my computer. I’m thinking about what I’ll make myself for dinner without having to take into account whether I’ll be saving a small explorer from shutting his fingers into the cabinets while I’m cooking. I’m planning on reading a book while I’m eating dinner and being able to pay attention to what I’m reading instead of to a curious beastie who wants to read with me (and by “read”, I mean “eat the pages of the book”). I might even make myself a cup of tea and sit out by the pool listening to the birds chirping quietly while I watch the dusk slowly fade into night. What a wonderful, peaceful, calm, self-indulgent evening!

But the best part of that evening will be when the menfolk come home and demand my attention and give me loud, wet, sloppy kisses and interrupt my peace and quiet. And I won’t mind the interruption one bit. How could anyone ever mind being interrupted by this handsome pair?

Generation After Generation

This past weekend we celebrated my grandmother's 80th birthday. It got me thinking how lucky Ryan is to have three of his four grandparents living, plus a great-grandmother, to boot. Herb's daughter recently lost her great-grandmother, at the age of 100. They had a very close relationship, and visited and spoke often, and Nettielee will be greatly missed by Rosemary and all of Nettielee's other great-grandchildren, as well as her grandchildren and children. What a wonderful blessing to have so many generations of family still connected.

Great-Grandma Nettielee's 100th birthday party, Rosemary at far right

Ryan with his great-grandmother, Auntie Lu, at her 80th birthday party

Life changes so fast that it's important to have a connection to the past. By the time Ryan is a teenager, no doubt there will be new technologies that I can't even comprehend that are a basic part of his life. He'll be comfortable with computers and gadgets in a way my mother can only dream of. And his great-grandmother will be there to remind him that in HER youth, not only were there no flat screen/plasma/3-D televisions, there wasn't even television. And when there was, it was in fuzzy black and white! She'll be able to tell him how exciting it was when their family bought their first car, or how she brought her lunch to school because there was no cafeteria, or how the milkman left the milk on the porch and when it froze the cream rose to the top. My mom will be able to tell him about working in a factory, and living on a dairy farm, and raising two kids with only one car - and only one bathroom! I can tell him about typing up school papers on a typewriter, or how exciting it was when we got our first microwave, or getting cable TV for the first time in my first apartment. Herb's parents can tell him about how they met in the USO, about performing with famous musicians and dancers, about taking the subway around the city for a nickel, about growing up in the city when you could ride your bike everywhere safely (even without a helmet).

When it's family telling these stories, history comes alive for children. Imagining your mom and dad as kids your age, imagining your grandparents growing up the same way you are - it's a wonderful experience for a child to picture him- or herself in the shoes of older generations. It gives him an appreciation for what he has, and hopefully an appreciation for how hard those who came before him worked to give him the advantages he and his generation have.

And someday, he'll be able to tell his children about how rough he had it growing up.