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A word to the young people out there … when someone says to you that life is short and you should enjoy every moment because time goes by too fast … listen.
I never believed I could be a grandmother. I knew it was possible. Even plausable. But I didn't believe it.
I still feel as if I am 23.
I do not move like I am 23. I do not think like I did when I was 23. I do not look anything like I did when I was 23.
But in my mind, when I am just sitting around, not aching or in severe pain, my brain tells me I am around 23.
So, it's hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that there is now someone -- who when he learns to talk -- will be calling me Grandma.
And I absolutely love it.
I'm sure many of you know exactly what I am talking about.
His name is Layne Matthew. And he is priceless.
He is beautiful. He is extremely smart.
He is everything. And more.
Almost every photo in my phone is of him. Almost every smile I have is because of him. Every time I laugh it is because of something he did.
Especially his "stinky face," as it is now referred to.
When my Shayley was in her final days, her tumor was rotting. Despite the fact we cleaned it and covered it, no matter how I tried -- candles, changing blankets a couple of times a day -- it still permeated throughout the room. It was awful. And pointless. And sad. But I loved her, so I didn't let it bother me.
That is, of course, when Caleb decided to bring my little Laynie over for a quick visit. From the second he was carried into the house, you could instantly see he wasn't crazy about the odor in the atmosphere.
At 14-months-old, my little grandson scrunched up his nose, squinted his eyes, thrust out his lips and let me know that he knew. He knew. And all I could do was laugh.
When an infant who can't speak says it all with his face, you get it.
I apologized. Told him I understood the reason for his using a stinky face. Now, every time someone says "stinky face," he instantly makes one. And it is hysterical. Each and every time. It's his new thing.
He does it on command. Heck, sometimes he just does it because he knows how much we love it.
Always trying to please us. Always succeeding.
My favorite though, is when he claps his hands. Whenever he hears the phrase "a round of applause," he begins clapping. When he does anything of which he is proud, he claps and glances around to make sure everyone in the room is applauding right along with him. And we are.
When he was six months old, we discovered he liked the song "I Like to Move it." We played it often just to watch his reaction. His little legs moved so fast, it was as if he was dancing. He didn't stop until the music did. And if the song was on repeat, once it started again, so did he. How I miss those times.
I miss rocking him. Singing quietly in his ear until he fell asleep. I miss feeding him his bottle. I miss how he nestled into me as if I were his safe haven.
And although he is still a baby at 16 months, he is at that point where he doesn't want his hand held while he's walking. Walking ever-so-carefully, so as not to fall down. He is very independent.
Today, Layne doesn't want to be held by anyone except his mommy or daddy.
There is no more rocking and singing him to sleep. Although he does listen quite intently when you sing, "You Are My Sunshine." He tries to sing along in his own little language.
He does let you feed him still, however. His mouth is always open as if he were a little bird waiting for a bite of whatever you might be eating. It's adorable.
I have watched him try to feed himself with an upside down utensil in each hand … and yet, he still opens his mouth and waits for you to feed him.
I love how insistant he is when he means "no."
Although he cannot say the word, he will gently close his eyes and emphatically move his head from side to side, letting you know he means "no."
I will nod my head and tell him, "yes." And he will go through the "no" motions all over again.
This little boy already loves to argue. And right now, it is very amusing. Of course, ask me again in about two years if it's cute, and that would be a resounding "negative."
When I try to recall similar moments spent with my children, I cannot. Sadly and regrettably, those times do not come to mind.
I do, however, remember a song I wrote and would sing for Layne's daddy when he was a baby.
Miraculously, the words were still there -- filed away in a part of my memory that I haven't been to in 25-plus years. Layne loves the song. Just like Caleb did.
My mother believes it should be put to music and that Caleb should be the one to do so. She thinks he and I could have the next big children's song.
Oh, if only life were that simple.
I forgot how much babies change in the blink of an eye. Their looks, their demeanor, their attitude.
And I cannot believe that for someone so small, he can hold my entire heart in his little palm.
On the off chance any young parent is right now reading this column, please do yourself a favor.
Stop what you are doing. Walk over. And hug your baby. Cherish every single day that you are given with your child. Don't let their crying or whining keep you from enjoying their very presence.
And grandparents, take lots of pictures and videos so you can remember these days. Grandchildren are the blessings we receive after our children leave our lives to move on with theirs.
It goes fast. Doesn't it?
As Carly Simon once said, "These are the good old days." And as Andy Bernard said on the final episode of "The Office," … "I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them." These, indeed, are the good old days.