The "who" in this case is our grandkids (not to be confused with the film about The Who). In other words, we kept the kids and their new dog Saturday and Sunday.
Drew Carrie spent the weekend in Indy for their 10th wedding anniversary (I can't believe they will have been married 10 years this Thanksgiving). So they brought the wee ones over around 10-ish Saturday, and all four were at our house until we took the human children to swimming lessons at the Y yesterday afternoon.
We all survived just fine. However, ugh, it makes me feel older and older every time we keep them for an extended time. And it's not them! It's ME that's getting older!
A, B, and C (the grandkids) actually play together quite well. They are just full of energy, loud, and a near-constant whir of motion. Something neither of us are used to AT ALL. The puppy is pretty much just like they are. He's a puppy, so it's not surprising that he wants to jump and play and lick your face, and has an occasional accident. It just gets a bit tiring is all.
There was really only one accident. Boon (the dog) had just ate, and I got to chasing him around. All of a sudden he stopped, got a funny look on his face, and scampered up the stairs. He made it to the entry carpet at the top of the steps (inside the back door), and had to dump a load. I felt bad, because it wasn't his fault, and I should have known better than to play with him right after he ate.
The only other "problem" was at night. We put his cage in the upstairs living room. Once the kids fell asleep he went right in it. However he started whining and crying not long after. I eventually put a blanket over the kennel, thinking that might calm him down. It did not. We let him go on for awhile but I finally gave in. I went out and talked to him a bit, and lay down on the couch. He never made a peep after that. Apparently he was just lonely. So, I slept on the couch Saturday night. At least I did sleep.
Otherwise, it was just another weekend of babysitting. It was also our first chance to see them all at swimming lessons on Sunday. I'm glad they aren't afraid of the water (like me).
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So... why I titled this "The kids are alright" is because... they are. I'm not sure I am though.
On the one hand, I have no problem admitting I am a "cat person" more than a "dog person." There is no shame in preferring one type of pet to another (at least there shouldn't be). Basically, I'm too self-centered to be a dog person. Dogs simply require too much time and energy for my liking. We survived though, and I do have to say he's a pretty cute dog and can be fun at times.
The bigger thing, though, is I feel like I'm turning into a grumpy old man. Actually, I AM a grumpy old man. While I love my grandkids and love that they come to our house, I DO NOT like what happens to me when they do.
I just can't seem to enjoy the time I spend with them anymore. I used to. I used to love getting on the floor and playing with them, or playing "monster" and other games. However, anymore it seems such a chore and leaves me feeling... old. Then I yell at them, or grumble under my breath. I'm sure they can sense my irritation either way.
Then... I get mad at myself. Why do I have to be so self-centered? Why do I then sit there and play games on my phone instead of playing or talking with the grandchildren?
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Actually, it's not just the grandkids and the dog. I'm kind of like that ALL THE TIME anymore. With everybody. I want to be around people. I want people to want to be around me. Yet every time I am, I find myself getting irritated and saying and doing things I do not want to say and do. It's like I can't help myself.
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Lately I've been thinking about how 'not' nice of a person I am. I've always lacked the awareness to be "in the moment" with others, and then I act in socially acceptable ways. I always tend to know AFTERWARDS what I should have said and/or done, but at the time... I really did not know. So I am left to feel like a heel and wish I'd never been in the situation to begin with.
I mean, I don't intend to be uncaring, or not nice. I'm not trying to be a jerk. Quite the opposite, in fact. I want to be nice; I want to be liked; I want to do the right thing (even when no one is looking). But NOooo... I have to be like Paul, singing my mantra from Romans 7 ("I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.").
Argh...
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Well, this is turning into quite the ramble. As I drove to work this morning it occurred to me I have little to no sense of compassion any longer. Not only do I not seem to think about other people, or helping other people, I'm not sure I'm even capable of helping other people anymore. Like, even if I wanted to...
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I don't know. At least the kids are alright. I hope so anyway. I know they probably think grandpa is no fun anymore, but maybe someday I can get my act together again. Or something.
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