Thursday, September 28, 2006

Perspective

I was only about thirty minutes into trying to get the house ready for the realtor when I realized that having a three year old “helper” was going to be an eye-opener. The last time David and I sold a house we didn’t have a child, and let’s just say that I was slightly unprepared for the challenges of “staging” a house for showing when there is an entire GeoTrax train set in the middle of a bedroom, not to mention a conductor of said GeoTrax train set who wants to have all trains visible at all times. Preferably in the middle of the floor.

And when it took me four hours to get my kitchen sparkling clean night before last, primarily because Alex insisted on turning the rug in the kitchen into a racetrack for his “Cars” cars, I realized that there are certain times in a mama’s life when she can use a little "grandparental" reinforcement and that this is one of those times.

So I picked up the phone, called Mama and Daddy, and I had barely gotten the words “Do you think Alex could stay with y’all…” out of my mouth before Mama said, “Yes. When do you want us to get him?”

If you’re a grandparent whose grandbabies live out of town, you can probably relate to her reaction.

Long story short: Alex is on his way to his grandparents’ house right this very second. David is meeting Mama and Daddy halfway between their house and our house, and Alex will have four glorious days with all the diet Coke he can drink and an unlimited supply of donuts. He will get to ride in the truck with Pappa and make daily trips to the dollar store. He will sit in my mama’s lap until he falls asleep every single night, and she will cater to his every whim. He will be spoiled rotten when we pick him up Sunday afternoon, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Alex has been talking about his “vacation” non-stop for the last twenty-four hours, and this morning when he came down the stairs, he was holding his stuffed froggy, his stuffed monkey, and a little stuffed dog that someone gave him when he was a baby. I made a comment about how he must be bringing all his friends to breakfast, and he said, “Oh no, Mama – I’m taking them to Pappa’s house!” He obviously had been thinking about his trip since the second he opened his eyes, and the fact that he didn't want his stuffed friends to miss out on the adventure made me want to kiss his little cheeks until I got every ounce of sugar out of them.

It’s been easy, these last few days, to get caught up in the whirlwind of buying, moving, staging, planning, financing and selling. But this morning, as Alex cradled a few well-worn stuffed animals and talked excitedly about his trip to his grandparents’ house, I couldn’t help but think about what really matters. And I truly believe, way down deep in my soul, that if I were to sit down and write out The Important Stuff Of Life, a house would be pretty far down the list.

But a three year old little boy? Collecting his toys for his “big trip” to Mississippi? Excited beyond belief at the prospect of spending a few days with his grandparents? Knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that they adore him completely and unabashedly? Knowing that he loves them just as fiercely in return?

That ranks way up there. No doubt about it.

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