Skip to main content

Baby Stuff

By baby stuff...I mean baby clothes, baby shoes, baby blankets, baby toys, baby pacifiers, baby hats, and on and on and on. I love the stuff, all of it. And shopping for it, is an adrenaline rush for sure. The sales on baby stuff are a $30 outfit for just $5. Or a little Onesie for $2. Amazing. Why didn't things seem so reasonable when my kids were small? Maybe I just didn't know where to find the best deals. It helps now to be living in Freeport, the outlet store shopping mecca. Even the resale shops here are fun and there's always a surprise bargain that I just have to walk out with. Right now, all the baby stuff I buy is for the little guy in the picture, my grandson Wyatt. I've given him quite a bit of stuff already, I hope he's enjoying them. I have a little stack here at the house, waiting to be sent. I would rather give them to him in person, but I doubt that will happen soon, at least not this week, or the next.

But is giving him stuff what our relationship is made of? Right now, he doesn't even realize he has stuff. Giving him stuff makes me feel that a little part of me is with him, even when I'm not. As it can go, babies can accumulate a lof of stuff before they are even a year old. Then mom has to organize it, clean it, put it away, or hang up the stuff. So, even though the stuff is for Wyatt, I'm hoping his mom will say enough is enough with the stuff when it truly is too much. It's hard to pass up a bargain or something so amazingly cute though...the thought is that surely he can use this stuff or he will look just too cute in this stuff! Sorry mom, if the tendency is to overwhelm you with stuff. But, it's really meant for Wyatt to enjoy and for you to think...whoa...something I didn't have to thankful for all the stuff!

The reality is, no, I don't want our relationship to be made of stuff. I would rather it be made of amazing time spent together, reading aloud the same story over and over, pushing him in the stroller around the mall or around the park, visits to Grandma's house to enjoy the comforts that only she can bring, laughing and playing or cuddling in the rocker while going to sleep. I want to know the joys of being a grandparent, of feeling the unconditional love that a young child brings, the delight of seeing my own daughter be a mom, the pride and the peace that comes with having the next generations in our presence. Never has so much stuff seemed so insignificant as it does when thinking about the measure of time we actually have to spend with our loved ones. Of course we would lay it down in a second if we thought it was our last second, as if we had a choice of where and who to spend it with....the value of another human being, in this case a daughter and a grandson, cannot be matched with anything in this world that we could possess.

I can only hope they realize this is how I see our relationship. Once that's clear, then the stuff...even though it's just stuff...can flow from one heart to the other. And perhaps, even forgiveness can flow for all the unintentional wrongs that we as parents seem to be constantly reminded of from the past, because afterall parents aren't perfect until they become Grandparents. That's just the cycle that happens, and has for generations.

Since now I'm the Grandparent, I have more time to look for stuff and actually, it's a nice diversion from the other stuff that my days are consumed with, like studying for my next class, paying the bills, wondering where my next job will be... And, since I have a long way to go to get to the perfect Grandparent stage, I better get busy with doing whatever Grandparents do. I'm new at this, just like I was new at being a parent. The thought is...I really want to get this one right. There aren't too many chances left to work on that legacy I'm supposed to leave when I'm gone. I wonder if that means I should learn to play games on the Wii? I guess I'll just have to ask Wyatt when he's a bit older.

~Photo courtesy of Jami Dale~


Popular posts from this blog

A Weekend Project and Hale Navy HC-154

 We've been in our house for a year and 10 months. The way time passes, it seems like yesterday we were moving in, unpacking boxes and figuring out how to make this new house our home. We were extremely fortunate in every way, and feel blessed beyond our wildest dreams, to even be able to find the house, buy the house, and move in when we did. Each month that passes, it feels a little more like our sanctuary . But not without some intentionality however. A home should reflect your own personality, your own inner feelings, your own spirit. It would be extremely difficult for me to move into a home, that someone else had decorated, painted, put their heart and soul into and find my spirit could rest there. I feel blessed to have started with a clean canvas in this home. There's something about starting fresh, with everything clean, and new. It's easier to call it your own. As so many stories go, the previous owners had to vacate because of a foreclosure situation. Sad

Another Rendall-Daniele Wedding?

Perhaps there is something in the universe I'm not aware of, allowances that are hidden, or rules that haven't yet been published. Or perhaps it's social dynamics evolving and morphing into something meant only for fiction. I don't really know. Maybe, just maybe, it was always meant to be, that somewhere in the architects master plan, somewhere on the blueprint there were two places and times there would be Rendall-Daniele lines intersecting. If this were a highway and they were coming to the same intersection at the same time, you might expect a terrible crash. Actually, there was, and all of us still have injuries that are healing. Some injuries are more obvious and more talked about, some injuries are deep within and will heal inspite of others. But the reality is that since I took on the Daniele name 2 years ago, there is a Daniele that will be taking on the Rendall name sometime in the near future. Stranger than fiction, this is the stuff that tv

One More Day...Part 1

I hope that someday you can pick up the book by Mitch Albom called One More Day . The meaning is something I think about all the time. A day doesn't go by where I don't think about the "what if?"  What if I had only one more day with my husband, my daughter or son, or extended family...what would I do? Books, messages, song lyrics, and movies challenge us to answer the question. We can't ask a "what if" question and not at least be prepared to give what would hopefully be just a hypothetical answer. I often think of the "what if" something happened to me and I couldn't have that one more day with those I love. My heart breaks and grieves to consider the possibility of it happening. Just like my friend, Angie's car accident - totally not what she had planned that day, but it changed so many things in a moment. Anything...and I mean anything can happen in a split-second. In that split-second life can go from a well thought-out