As most of you know, I take care of my little grandson Dylan during the work week.  It's usually four days each week, sometimes five.  Taking care of him is the absolute joy of my life.  We can not turn back time but as I spend time with this delightful "Little Man" each day I realize the huge differences there are in being a grandparent compared to being the parent of a child.  One thing I know is I never took enough time to truly "smell the roses" when my two were little...at least not enough time to truly savor the scent of those roses.  For most of their young years I was either a stay-at-home mom or worked jobs where I went to work part-time in the evenings after Dear Hubby got home from work, except for two years when I worked full time.  Miserable years, those two.  But the years when I was home with them were wonderful years crammed full of memories, of hours spent cuddled on the couch reading books, of dancing around the living room to music, endless walks, visits to the zoo or playing hooky and going wherever we felt like 'running away' to for a day.  A house full of the laughter and little arguments of young children at play, mine and most of the neighborhood kids as well.  Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and cookies for everyone.  Countless games of Capture the Flag and Hide 'n' Go Seek.  Summer nights spent outside on the porch.

And yet........so caught up in every day survival as young parents, trying to make ends meet and making sure the kids had what they needed.  Worrying about school work getting done, if bullies were picking on them at school, if school was even safe.  Dental appointments, doctor appointments.  School clothes.  Christmas and birthday presents.  Stretching a dollar here, squeaking out a penny there.   I have some of those crystalline moments I can look back on in my memory where my daughter or my son is etched in my mind's eye forever...of her hopping down the street with her little golden braids glinting in the sun, of him saying for the millionth time, "Did you see me hit that ball, Mom?  Did you see it?"  and I could weep.  Because those moments are there, but so many other ones are lost forever.

And now, with Dylan...well, we're busy all day long, it seems.  But busy with Baby and Grandma stuff.  I have the time to lie down on the blanket beside him on the floor and play endless games of peek-a-boo.  I take him out for long, leisurely walks in his stroller.  I can take all the time I want cuddling him as I feed him or even in between bottles.  We spend lots of time sitting out on the glider on the front porch watching the world go by.  Why didn't I have that time, those hours, when my two were little?  It seems like the years of parenthood are years full of pressure...there's so much responsibility in raising children I think we don't keep in mind the joy of having those children.  We don't have the time.

Maybe that's the secret of why grandparenthood is so wonderful.  By this stage in life, it's slowed down a bit.  We're beginning to realize that life isn't endless.  We realize there's an end to the road ahead of us.  And when we do see those roses, not only do we take the time to smell them....we savor them.  We realize even the roses have their season, and we'd better enjoy them while we have them.