Visiting the Baby

While I am away from home visiting the newest member of the family and his parents, I doubt I will have much time to blog. A seven-month-old takes a lot of effort to feed, nap, bathe, dress, walk, exercise and laugh with. Every "chore" is really a joy and it's a great plus that this child loves to play and laugh. He is already an expert at peek-a-boo games. He grabs the quilt that his honorary Aunt Alice made him and pulls it over his face. When he judges the moment to be right, he yanks it down and laughs uproariously when I squeal, "Peek-a-boo" or "There he is!" And I do mean great squeals of baby-laughter. Nothing in the world makes you feel as good as a baby's happy chortle or belly laugh. His parents have entrusted him to me while they are working and it's time for a bottle of the good stuff (Mama's milk), so off I go to warm it up in the nifty little bottle-warmer that was not around when I had my babies. That could be the subject of another blog. Great baby equipment in today's world.

Here's a baby poem that isn't as mawkish and sentimental as most of them. I think I have to write one someday soon. No author name. Got it from a website named Mumbaispace.com

Babies Have so Much to Do

In a world that's all brand-new,
Babies have so much to do!

Laughing, making funny faces,
Finding out those ticklish places...

Cuddling up and wiggling toes,
Looking cute in tiny clothes...

Tasting, touching, reaching high,
Crawling under, scooting by...

Learning words and having fun...
Making memories one by one.

A Spring Thing

Here in southwest Ohio we think we had a hard winter. Yes, we had more snow than usual, but having grown up in Maine and Minnesota, I don't recognize the forty-some inches we received as anything special. But I will grant that the winter has seemed grayer and longer than usual. So the blue skies, green grass and fresh breezes do seem particularly enjoyable this year. This is one time of year,the other being autumn, that we have clear blue skies. Soon the haze of the Ohio River Valley will engulf the land, the humidity will return to blanket us in wet steam, and we will complain about that. But for now we are energized and can be heard to exclaim many times, "Look at that sunshine. Doesn't it feel good?" Yes, it does.

Today is Easter Sunday, the sun is shining and it looks like it will be a fine, warm day. We had our egg hunt last weekend because some grandchildren will be with their father this weekend. Last Sunday was drippy, gray, and brisk, but we all had a fine time. I enjoyed hiding the eggs in the drizzle along with the new neighbor dad, and the twelve kids didn't seem to notice the mud and wet foliage as they gathered over 300 eggs. We had quite a counting session on the driveway to see how many left-overs we adults would be finding as we cut the grass this summer. They seemed to have found most of the eggs, with the exception of THE GOLDEN EGG which contains a five dollar bill. A search for the big money ensued, and finally, with many hints from the egg-hider, the gold was found to the delighted squeals of the children and my adult daughter. I guess it's more about the hunt than the amount of money, right?

So today will be a quiet Sunday. A workout, early dinner with friends, and then a bike ride.

Look at that sunshine. Doesn't it feel great?



Easter is not one of my big holidays, but I found a nice poem posted today by a publisher's site.



Transport by Marie Ponsot

The rose, for all its behavior,
is smaller than the lifelove it stands for,
only briefly brightening,
and even its odor
only a metaphor.
Or so we suppose
just as we suppose the savior
we employ or see next door
is only some hired man
gardening.