Happy Birthday to the Big Boy.

Picture taken by his mother, our daughter,  Raven

I understand there are grandparents in the world who do not see their GK's more than a few times a year. Some by circumstance and some by choice.

What I do not understand is how they function day to day within those barbaric limitations. Hi, my name is Donna and I'm totally addicted to my grand kids. Blessed to always have been geographically very near all three of them they have become a huge part of our lives.

Learning to spell "Red" Not as easy as it may look

 

 

Always on the side of his grandparents battles. Whatever they are.

 

Overnights began early as a few weeks old since parents needed to get back to work to provide the luxuries of food, shelter and juice. Most months we see the GK's anywhere from 5-20 days just depending on work schedules. We have hauled them with us all over the farm as well as the entire state of Illinois including the delivery of headless hog carcasses to Chicago restaurants.

How's that for a field trip?

Making fun of the Yaya's need to reading glasses

 

 

They've been carries out to pasture to walk in the cows for milking, up into the hay loft to search for hidden chicken and kitten nests (sometimes these were one and the same) plus into every Farm supply store within a 100 mile radius to pick up more, aluminum waterers and rubber feed pans.

Some of these feed pans were even used by the animals.

With his great grandma Parrish

 

 

We know our GK's teachers names (sometimes we have to ask twice), their underwear sizes and weather or not they like pizza or popcorn better on Saturday movie night. (It's popcorn). We have been blessed beyond measure with their cuteness, like tonight when I was told by the boy "Pray fast Yaya, I'm really tired."

Evening cuddle with Papa

So with all that said I have no reason to complain, none at all, but of course I will.

It is all going too fast!!!

Our youngest GK will have his 6th Birthday party tomorrow. He is more excited than our Red Wattle boar Mad Max when he sees Keith approach with a bucket of grain. (we live on a farm, I can compare GK's to a 1000 pound boar if I want to)

But I am not excited at all. Being 6 means in terms simple enough even for the most daft grandparent to understand, he is no longer a baby! Gone are the hour long rocking chair fests where I sing Puff the Magic Dragon over and over, making up the words as I go. Gone are the days where he would cling to my legs when I would leave him until our next visit. Gone are the baths where I could run trucks up and down his chubby legs in the tub while he giggled non-stop.

In it's place however are other miracles. His new found reading ability of which he is so proud. His skill of dressing himself with ALL pieces of clothing right side out. (I can only do this 4 or 5 days of the week myself) His willingness to run to the shop with a message for his papa and run back to me with a message in return.

We do our bests to keep these messages child friendly. Did you not see how he is learning to read?

Yes, indeed he is no longer our grand baby but he has evolved, due to the very hard work of his mama, sprinkled with a little help of ours and then slathered with even greater help from above into one fine young chap.

And although I do miss Baby Wesley, his gurgles and burps and giggles and watching him age has gone faster and perhaps came more painfully for me than his two sisters, we are having a ball with Wesley, the cool big boy.

Who still thinks anything related to farts...highly hysterical.