Today I have been particularly thankful for my mum. Not just, you know, for all that normal mum stuff. I know I'm incredibly lucky. Of my 4 closest friends, three have lost their own mums before we are forty. That's got to be an unlikely percentage. And here am I not only with both my parents but three grandparents, too. In fact, I was 34 before my Grandpa died. So, yeah, I'm pretty lucky. But there's something specific I'm grateful for today. And that's my Mum's special relationship with my Chookie. (Did you know my mum's responsible for that particular moniker? Her official title is "my precious wee chookie.")
My colleague wasn't at work today. Her 2 year old is miserable sick - you know the greety, crabbit way that only toddlers do? That. And my colleague's father-in-law who watches the tot had popped in yesterday with some messages. And when the wee scone saw him? She screamed the place down thinking she was being left with him while mum came to work. Sometimes only Mummy will do!
Except, Chook wasn't like that. I went back to work when she was 11 weeks old and my mum watched her from 9 til 3 pretty much every working day until she went to nursery. So they're pretty close. And dropping off a sick 2 year old Chook would have been easy coz she would have known she'd get more cuddles from Granny than from me. I would've been trying to nurse and clean at the same time!
I understand a little of what their bond is like. My Wee Granny watched me when I first started school when my mum started working full time. So she was there when I got up, at lunchtime and when I got in at 3. And this was on top of all the sleepovers we had. Some just the two of us before she remarried when I was 4. So I know what very special relationships are forged in early childhood with a grandparent who gives you that most precious commodity. Time.
I think Chook herself put it best. She was out walking the dog with my Dad a few months ago and mention was made of going home. When he questioned did she mean her own house she gave him that look. You know. That are-you-stupid one that kids excel at? That one. And then said
"No, Pop. I mean your house. That's my second home, you know."
Which I think kinda sums it up. And although she dearly loves her auld Pop, it would have been Granny wiping the bogies and cuddling the sick child on the couch with a big blanket, a bottle of Calpol and a wee pot of custard.
One hundred years from now
It won't matter
What kind of car I drove
What kind of house I lived in
How much money I had in the bank
Nor what my clothes looked like
BUT
The world may be a little better
Because, I was important
In the life of a child.
(excerpt from "Within My Power" by Forest Witcraft)
P.S. I've just hit publish and found out that this is my 700th post! I couldn't have picked a better subject if I had planned it!