Family

It's August. The summer is flying by. I really have good intentions, but this summer at work, has been so difficult.
We have to churn out stories constantly. It's not like in the past when an editor would give you actual time to work on a story and make into a masterpiece. I know my editors would love to let me have more time on stories, but they too are under fire.
So when I think about blogging, all I want to do is read other blogs. I don't want to write.
But it's August.
The first of the month rolls around and I don't want to host another gramma sleepover. But I cave in because I know how much my grandchildren look forward to it and my children also look forward to having one night and a Saturday without rug rats.
It's not hard to host the sleepover. My grandkids are good and know the rules and usually play well with one another. I'm just tired after working 40 hours and especially this summer with so much stress at work.
But always, always after they all go home, I'm so grateful I did. I know I'm not just hosting time away from parents, but creating memories.
Like the last one.
Rod bought a tent off of KSL's website. Not just any tent, but a great big tent that can sleep eight adults comfortably. He bought it so HE could use it for Scouts. Well, he made the mistake of putting it up when grandkids were coming over in June. They were all so excited to see it. They thought we were going to sleep in it.
I told them we'd do it in August when Papa would be home to help. He was scheduled to go with Scouts in July. He actually ended up coming home a day early because of the weather, but because of the weather we did not put the tent up that weekend.
Note: (I'm now going to do what my cousins do, refer to my grandchildren as Miss 1 or Mr. 2, not by name in order to protect them).
So Rod and Miss 2, who is 10, (Miss 1 thinks being 15 is too old for sleepovers at Gramala's) spent an hour on Friday putting the tent up. All of the grandkids brought sleeping bags and couldn't wait to get in them. As soon as their parents left, they were inside their sleeping bags on my bed watching Toy Story 3. They pretended to be snakes.
After the movie Rod and Miss 2 took the sleeping bags outside while I got Mr. 2, Mr. 3, Mr. 4 and Miss 3 and Miss 4 in their pajamas. Not much work since they help each other. Miss 3 is 7 so she can dress herself. Mr. 2, who is 6, helped his brother, Mr. 4, who is 2, and also helped Mr. 3, who is 3, get jammies on. It was really cute. Miss 4, is 2 and didn't want anyone to dress her but Gramala.
Mr. 5, who is 10 months, also joined the party on Friday. He is still too young to spend the night with the gang. He also thinks if there are people around he has to party hardy! Definitely my son's son.
Anywho, I ended up in the tent with the six of the seven. Mr. 5 stayed inside the house with Papa to watch TV until his parents returned from their movie date. Then Papa slept in our comfy bed. It was requested because he snores.
There I was in this tent with six kids, ages 10, 7, 6, 3, 2 and 2. All snug like a bug in their sleeping bags on nice cushions, except Miss 2, who claims sleeping on cushion in a tent is wrong, just plain wrong. She roughed it.
For the first 30 minutes I was playing "Smacking the mole." I didn't really smack anyone, just kept telling Mr. 2 and Miss 2 to get back in their sleeping bags.
I did use the trick I use in Primary of getting kids to behave. I notice and say outloud, "I really am appreciative of Miss 3 staying in her sleeping bag. Oh look, Mr. 3 is trying so hard to go to sleep."
By 11 p.m. all six were asleep.
Now there I was in the tent and I could hear every noise in my neighborhood.
One noise got to me though and I knew for sure a critter --- raccoon or Heaven forbid, a skunk--- was lurking outside. Did I mention my backyard borders a huge cornfield?
Oh my goodness. I had flashlight and I also double checked that Rod, aka Papa, had his cell phone by his head in our bed.
I opened the tent windows and looked for the critter.
No four-legged critter out there but my Brittany, Jade, who took up her post by her gate at the kennel to watch over us.
But the scraping and bumping was loud now. I realized it was coming from the playhouse. Rod and our sons built a playhouse 27 years ago in our backyard. It stands on stilts and a swing is attached.
In late June I discovered a nest in the playhouse. Pigeons had made the playhouse their home. I, um, promised pigeons they would not get evicted. I thought they would be out at the end of July.
So I googled pigeons on my new phone. Pigeons do not leave their nest until they are two months old! I am afraid of all of the poop I'm going to have scrub in September.
So, I'm going to sleep. It's now midnight. Tent door flap opens. I jump up screaming what the? And it's Miss 2, making a bathroom run.
Finally sleep hits me at 2 a.m. I'm awakened at 2:30 by someone poking my face. It's Miss 4. She's 2. And she's seeing if I"m alive or something. I get her back to sleep finally around 3:30.
At 6 a.m. Mother Nature wakes me up.
I know from the past, if I don't hit the shower before the tykes wake up, I won't see a shower until Sunday.
Saturday was a blast as the kids chose their pancake design created by Papa, then blasted each other with squirt guns I bought for $1 a piece. They love running through sprinklers and eating a picnic lunch under our Aunt Eliza tree.
They also love spending the Saturday afternoon taking naps, splashing in the tub, reading books, watching a movie or playing in the toy room.
When they go home, I feel like crying because I already miss their sweet little hugs and their faces. I think "Gosh, I made it!"
And the next sleepover is four more weeks away. I'm so glad my children allow their children to come hang out with us. Yes, it's work. Yes, it's a challenge. Yes, I could spend my time doing....nothing better.