An Ode to My Grandpa...

My grandfather is dying. I have no doubt of it.

My mother told me that all he wanted was to see all his children together before he died. My aunt overheard him praying that his kids, grandkids, greatgrands all have long and happy lives. He's ready to die.

I am glad that I got to see him while I was in California. My last memory of him is a happy one. He was smiling and happy and thrilled that I finally had a child of my own and a son no less. He lived to see his youngest grandchild have a child of her own. He enjoyed seeing his great-grandson.

I am also glad that Caden was able to meet him too. Many people aren't even born in time to meet their great-grandparents.

Now my grandpa is an awesome fellow. He's no taller than 4 ft 10 inches. He loves dancing. And he had even tried his hand at being a hairstylist when I was 7 years old by giving me the worst hair-cut I've had in my life (to the surprise and dismay of the rest of my family). When he stayed with us, he would surprise me with a sweet treat when I came home from school or by getting me some fast food. He used to make me porridge or soup or hot chocolate all the time. I'm going to miss him.

I'm just sad that I won't even be able to be there when he does pass on. I love my grandpa.

In California...

So here I am in California...

I literally carried my heavy son across the country that by the second day after my arrival my back was hurting. I swear, I will never travel with an infant again unless I at least have my husband with me. As crude as this sounds, it was difficult using the restroom while holding said infant. Sigh.

Anyway, my son is now getting spoiled rotten. Really he is. And I have no clue whether I should blame my sister or my parents more.

My sister is messing with his schedule. He had a good schedule going when we were home... of course that's 3 hours ahead of California but it's ok. I don't mind him going to bed early. However, my sister does. She kept him awake and kept him awake to the point where he was the most annoying grump on the planet.

Then my sister will play with him, which I don't mind except for the fact that she threw him in the air. Sigh. Then she tells him she's going to spoil him and spoil him and spoil him.

Now my parents... they LOVE and I mean LOVE carrying him. Which sucks because after a solid week of that he's now starting to expect being carried ALL the time. And when we get back home... it's just mommy and the baby and mommy isn't going to cart his cute little butt all over the place because he's getting heavy. But my dad for instance said, "Hey it's ok, let him cry for a bit." Then he hears the first tiny cry and he's alllllllll over the baby, picking him up and telling him that grandpa's there to the rescue!

My mom was carrying him... then she had him sit on my niece's lap and she started to walk away. The baby started to cry. Soooo she turned back towards him and he miraculously stopped crying waiting for her to pick him back up. Sigh... my son is a grandma's boy.

I beg and I beg my family not to spoil him too much... but it seems like an impossibility. So I tell my son, whether he understands it or not, "Enjoy this while you can because as soon as we get home it's all going to stop."