Spending part of the morning and early afternoon with our nine-month-old grandson was how I started the day. Oliver is the most clever nine-month-old (no bias here). Today, he figured out how to open the top latch on the dog crate—never mind that the bottom wasn’t latched—and let Sylvie out.
Sylvie was in her crate because she wanted to climb all over Oliver and me while we were playing. Clearly, Oliver wasn’t as bothered by Sylvie’s antics as his mom and I were. Once freed, Sylvie rolled onto her back with sheer joy, waiting for belly rubs and soaking in the attention.
Oliver, meanwhile, was busy testing his strength and curiosity. He pulled himself up on the built-in entertainment center where the big-screen TV and family games are stored. Drawn to a bright red box, he was moments away from unleashing an avalanche of board games before I stopped him. My main concern wasn’t that he’d get hurt—it was the thought of sorting out a dozen game pieces afterward!
He also pulled himself up on the large gate Megan uses to keep the two of us corralled in the family room while she tackles the rest of the house. Then came his favorite discovery of the day: while sitting on the floor, he realized that if he walked his little hands up the wall, he could reach the windowpane and peek outside. When he caught sight of the backyard trees, his eyes lit up, and in pure wonder, he whispered, “Ohhhh!” It was adorable.
Spending a few hours each week, one-on-one with Oliver, feels like therapy. Seeing the world through his eyes reminds me how much beauty there is in the simplest things—the sway of treetops, the warmth of a dog’s belly, and the quiet joy of being fully present with my sweet grandbaby boy.
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