Today is Norah's birthday. As my babysitting duties wind down I can take pleasure and pride in saying the past 20 months of babysitting has been...well, everything. I'm not cut out for it, I'm sure, but besides the whining, crying, diaper-changes, too short naps, the tumbling down the stairs, the broken glass, the food thrown in my face, the constant anxiety of simply being responsible for someone else's kid, were the hugs, kisses, fun chases, pillow forts, sleeping on my shoulder, dancing, walks outside, swimming, and the indescribable but forever bond that we now share.
First picture of Norah.
Super Baby!
"I showed you I don't like corn. Must I show you again?"
"Here's a nice warm spot to take a nap."
"Plates? Plates? We don't need no stinkin' plates at Grampa's daycare!"
Playing Hide and Seek.
Norah and I working on "Shhh." And as you can see, as long as she is in the vicinity, she takes care of other matters.
Today she turns 2. She will grow up and if Grampa isn't here she won't remember the early years or the fun we had. But somewhere on a ledger will be written that these two souls shared a time with each other, and all the future living and all the future adventures won't be able to erase. It is written with permanent ink, and next to that entry will read, "Grandaughter and Grandfather - He took care of her with all his Love, and she took care of him with hers."
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