A few days ago I witnessed what can only be called a miracle: Peter, my six-year-old, had a 15-minute phone conversation with my father. Some of you may say big deal, and that is completely understandable, unless you have ever had a child who is speech delayed.
"I want to talk to Grandpa."
All right, this will be fast, I thought. It was kind of cute, too because he saw his brother and sister talk to my dad and he wanted to be just like the "big" kids.
I could hear my father ask, "How was school today Peter?" I also heard a tone we all tend to take with Peter. A mix of sweetness and futility. It is not at all unusual for him to only give a one or two word answer, and that may only be after I have prompted him a bit. He has perfected the strong and silent persona.
I fully expected him to hold the phone for a second and then say, "I don't want to talk, goodbye."
"I was crying at school today Grandpa."
Huh?
Tom, my eldest, looked at me as if he had witnessed an alien abduction.
Tom and I continued to look at each other in wonder. We were also laughing. Not just because what he was saying was hysterical, but because Peter was laughing as he recalled his day in kindergarten.
From what I gather, Peter's friends don't like it when he bugs them. This prompted a talk with the school counselor. Also, if anyone is wondering, one should never try to jump off the roof of the play set or sleep in the grass as one of Peter's friends tried to do. Though it will make a few kids laugh.
Most importantly, you "absolutely, never, ever, ever," attempt to pee in the grass at school. Apparently, this is not "respectful."
Thankfully it's been confirmed by his teacher that Peter was not the one who attempted to pee in the grass. Alleluia and Amen.
I don't know what was more entertaining, the conversation Peter was having with my dad, or the shocked, proud, and amazed looks Tom was giving me while we witnessed this unprecedented event.
"Mom, I didn't even know Peter knew the word respectful."
This is my third time dealing with a child with a speech delay. I know the wonder of witnessing the display of a skill that was feared would never be achieved. But it never gets old, I was thrilled.
I was also not surprised that my dad was the person honored with the hallowed conversation.
Why should I be the first person my youngest child graces with his longest conversation ever? I'm just his mother.
My dad is the rock star and definitely the headliner of the very loved and beloved trio of Grandma, Grandpa and my wonderful father-in-law "Grandpa Joe."
If loving and spoiling grandchildren with unlimited love, time, and acceptance were a criminal offense, this trio would be sentenced to hard time.
What a beautiful gift to get the chance to see my parents and father-in-law develop such wonderful and close relationships with my own children.
Lizzy will jump up and stop whatever she is doing if grandma calls and asks if she wants to get a manicure. My dad and Tom have a standing dinner date each Wednesday. My dad takes Tom to the tutor and then they go for sushi. And Peter's favorite thing to do is to got out to breakfast with grandma and grandpa.
If this is not enough spoiling, the kids also have a very doting grandfather in Joe's dad. I have learned to watch what I say about what the kids like. After mentioning that my three little piggies devoured a whole steak one night my father-in-law ordered a shipment from Omaha steaks. When he learned they tasted and loved lobster, you know what got delivered a week later.
Just in case you were wondering, the packages were addressed to all three of the kids, not my husband and me.
A few months ago Joe and the boys went to our nephew's hockey game with my father-in-law. Tom walked in after the game with a half eaten box of doughnuts.
"Did Grandpa Joe get those for you?"
"Yes, when we picked him up he gave Peter and I the box of doughnuts and some chocolate milk for the car ride to New Jersey."
"Boy, are you guys spoiled."
"Mom, that is exactly what I thought when I saw the Dunkin' Donuts box. We are really lucky kids," he said with a huge smile.
They most surely are. So are Joe and I.
I don't know how we could handle all that is involved with the boys learning issues or Lizzy's very serious neurological disorder without their very strong presence in our lives. They have helped us out so much with babysitting and carting children to events that we feel any minute we will be arrested for "elder" abuse.
A perfect illustration of just how much Grandma and Grandpa are loved happend last Saturday. At around 5:00 in the morning. While I was still asleep.
"Mommy, mommy. I want to go home."
"Peter, for the millionth time, Grandmas house is not your home. You live in this house with Daddy, Tom, Lizzy and me." I replied, half asleep.
" I don't want this home. I want Grandmas home."
"Well, there's next weeks blog right there" my sleepy husband mumbled under the covers.
And so it is.
