Girls are Different

Terry and I volunteered to child mind for the day a few days before going to our annual Gleaners stint in the Okanagan. Daddy was glad because he could go to his construction job that day. Mum went back to school to teach part time after being home for two years. And now both boys were in school all day.

What a difference in just looking after the two little girls, instead of their two brothers and the girls! Their focus was completely different as well. For one thing , it was much quieter. No running around and screeching and jumping. No pulling into different directions as each each called, “Grandma, will you play this?”

The doll stroller had been at our house for several weeks before I finally got a chance to re-do the seat, so when it came back, it was like a new toy. The youngest happily wheeled it around and around the couch, until her sister demanded her turn. 

A few shrieks of dismay as each tried to grab the stroller. Problem temporarily solved as I took Big Sister's scarf out of its winter box, and tied Little Sister's doll to her chest in a baby sling.

Then Big Sister had five minutes on the timer for her turn with the stroller. I don't think Little Sister watched the sand run through the timer, but it helped to some degree before their interest shifted to something else.

“Grandma, can you play Play Dough with us?”

“OK. I'll show you how to make waffles. Do you want round ones or square ones?”

I wasn't sure the real fork and knife were allowed to be used for this purpose, but I sneaked them out of the drawer because the the knife made a more satisfying edge than the blunt plastic one, and how can you make waffles without a fork? I showed Big Sister how to make a crisscross pattern with the fork, while Little Sister happily put dried bits of Play Dough in and out of containers. Funny, her sister did exactly the same thing two years ago.

“Oh! It's time to get dressed so we can go to the Museum!”

Big Sister ran to dress herself, even meticulously making her bed all by herself. She didn't want my help. I was impressed.

At the Museum we by-passed the toy room because it was full of little boys on this rainy day, and went to the Cafe. The Cafe has real sized booths with games on them featuring Red Deer's pioneer settlers, and a real jukebox. The best part, though, is the child-height shelf with toy food of all kinds and pots pans, and dishes. Big Sister spied the cash register and set about scanning a bunch of food items with a device that beeped, just like the real thing. There was a slot for the credit card, too, not like the toy cash registers of my childhood. (Not that I ever had such a toy).

The morning passed with selecting and eating various plates of toy food.

"Oh, look, it's Uncle Chris!"  Closer look. "No it's not." Just a picture of one of the famous Red Deerians.

An hour and a half later Grandpa showed up, and Little Sister happened to look up. High on the wall hung a stuffed and mounted moose head! None of us had noticed it before. She made a beeline for my lap, and refused to move, all the while looking fearfully at the moose. I's a good thing it was time to go anyway.

At the mini theatre we stopped to watch the three-minute National Film Board cartoon, Hen Hop. This always makes the children laugh as the stick figure of a chicken performs various dance-like antics.

Later in the day Big Brother was fascinated with the waffle concept and created a beautiful plateful of fancy waffles. A great way to unwind after a busy day in Grade Three.

Number Two Grandson kept begging Grandpa to take him to the park next door to play tennis, and didn't seem to understand you don't play tennis in the rain. He's excited to be taking lessons for two months at the Tennis Bubble.

Grandpa's job on days like this is to make supper, following a prearranged menu. He prefers this rather than trying to hear tiny voices.

Soon it was time to go. I had explained to Big Sister earlier that we were going to be away for two weeks.

“Are you going to heaven?” she asked.

“No, I'll see you when I get back.”

It's hard for Big Sister to understand that her other grandma is not coming back, the one we were hiking with as described in my last blog. Our friend, and the children's other grandmother, passed away suddenly only a month after the hike. We all miss her.