On Being A Grandparent

Peyton is my grand-daughter. She is three years old, and she is full of life. And I am so proud of her. I have to say, however, that I wasn't initially prepared for the experience. But it really is rewarding to watch her grow up. When my kids were her age, I was happy to watch them grow and change as well, but this is a little bit different. First, she isn't my child; she is my child's child. Not my responsibility, but I feel just as strongly responsible for her as I did for my kids at her age, mainly because she and her mother, my daughter Kerry, both live with us. And both Martha and me have taken an active role in helping Kerry raise her. We're okay with that. She is also extremely intelligent. Scarily so, in fact. She is articulate, and she is not afraid to speak her mind. It is not a problem understanding what she says because she knows precisely how to let us know what she's saying. And sometimes she can be bossy; there have been more than a couple of instances where she has told me where to go, in a manner of speaking. It is all I can do to not laugh hysterically. When she was really little - I think she was 8 months old - she accidentally got into some medication that belonged to a house guest we had. It was medication for treatment of hypertension, and some of the tablets had gotten spilled. Not all of them, however, got picked up off of the floor under our kitchen table. And Peyton managed to find the one that got left behind. It required a trip to the Emer...
Source: Life in Manch Vegas - Category: Ambulance Crew Source Type: blogs