Tweetie Pie

You sleep as the saws buzz and the hammers slam onto the house siding.  Jim and Nathan are here fixing the old steps and extending the porch overhang. I asked them to work on your family tent next week.  They will help daddy on Monday.  I have to go to LA for a meeting on Friday and be back on Sunday.  I don’t like leaving you.  Daddy’s work schedule is never planned ahead, so he will find help if he has to go to work. Grandpa will be horse camping all weekend. I am thinking more and more about little Liza, your Sissy.  We have to bring her here with us.  If the tent gets done, maybe next week, I’m thinking that I’ll have mommy and Liza fly here and Daddy can go get the car on his own. On whatever schedule works for him. You like me to read I’m a Big Brother over and over, Ten Kisses and Babies Everywhere

Last night you asked me if you could take your big airplane book to Montana.  I told you that you can live here in Bonny Doon now.  You scoffed, as if I had said something very silly, “No-o-o-o.” I could take it and read it on the airplane, you told me.  You live here now with Daddy.  Your Mommy will come and live here too in your families’ tent. Mommy lives in Montana, you explained.  That was enough. Let you get what’s going on in your own time. This isn’t an easy thing to understand, is it, Buddy? The other day I asked you if you wanted to play with kids.  You told me not Nathaniel. Crystal?  I asked. Your cousin?  Yea,  I like to play with Crystal.  I’m glad your school starts soon.  You will go only two days a week, during the summer, but you will have friends.  You will play with someone other than me.   Besides, I’m a little bossy, don’t you think?

Daddy has a sunburn from his Amgen Tour guard work yesterday.  He was outside in the sun and forgot to use sunscreen.  He seemed proud to be working.  He said he met an important guy named Lance Armstrong. If you want to ride a bike far and fast like Lance, you’ll have to get back to your pedaling practice.  Your tricycle is nearly too small for your long legs.  Up here with our hilly driveway we have to practice on the lawn and over at the old house.  You seemed motivated until the rain returned. Maybe I’ll put it in my car and go to a park for you to ride and practice.  I get tired just thinking about all the play and practice you need.  My goodness.  I need your mommy here to help. And Daddy could help more, too. Did you know I am his Mommy. He never forgets.

I heard you calling me, “Grandma, I waked up.”  You call.  You report and tell me things all day long.  I was scared.  I feeled worried.  I disappointed.  You are funny that way.  I tri-ded to find you and you was gone. I cried a little bit, Grandma.   You can start a blog next week, Buddy.  Maybe you should start with tweets. gma Wait, what are Tweets anyway?

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