I am a fortunate mother, I think about this all the time especially around Mother's Day. We've been blessed with two fabulous, loving sons who then brought to us these incredible families and four beloved grandchildren. As I write this I'm thinking back to the times when our sons were little and under my wing. I realize that I had a better grasp of my son's thoughts, dreams, desires and wishes when they were those dear little boys of ours. I also realize that it's natural for our boys to differentiate from their parents. This is true for sons and for daughters too. It's healthy to become your own person though truthfully part of me misses the more intimate involvement. Hence, most of the stories below will be from the time they were tiny to about ten years old. More later! I'll share some of the funnier stories from their past, the "boys" might wish I hadn't but 'still she persisted'.
I always wanted children, lots of them. Dick was as delighted as I at first my pregnancy and the birth of Zachary Ethan Grout forty seven years ago. Because he was our first we had no idea how fortunate we were to have such a handsome, healthy, good natured child. Zachary was smart, very early to talk, and on schedule with everything that most babies do. He was delightful and I thrived on being a mom. Then drama. When Zach was only eight months old I had a horrible miscarriage and ended up U of Washington hospital for three days because I almost died of a staff infection. [Another story...http://susansmagicfeather.blogspot.com/2011/03/nde-near-death-experience-and-carrying.html]
The experience changed me, rattled me, but one happy consequence, D had a chance to be very close to Zach with days of the mothering role and their relationship blossomed and was sweet.
We had Zachary in Seattle but this was the time of the Boeing bust and "will the last person out of Seattle please turn off the lights". No work for the newly graduated D so when he got the job offer, we moved to Boise, Idaho. Nothing but glamour for us...
Here's a few of the comments about and from Zach from the inadequately kept [by me, sorry guys...] baby book for the boys: "I'm worried about Z's growth, thinking he won't be tall." [he's well over six feet tall] Zach is an incredible climber and did so out of his crib before he could walk. Someone suggested we put a net over his bed.
One of Zach's first sentences, "that pisses me off." Where did he get that? Zach, at two years old had an inherent honesty about him and once when I was napping he came to his father and said, "I didn't take any cookies, did I Dad", [the evidence of the obviously stolen cookies: a chair pushed up to the counter]. Also at age two he climbed our backyard fence as I, inside the house overheard that distinct rattle, rattle, rattle punctuated by, "funtastic, I did it!" Although I was very pregnant with Josh I ran to retrieve the escapee. Josh was born when Z was two and a half and eventually he had fun making the baby in the infant seat smile by talking to him and showing Josh his toys. More fun when the little brother could respond.
Dick's boss took a job in the San Juan Islands and hired D to go with him to found the S.J. Islands Planning Department and so we moved again to the islands. This time to our permanent home. Having a brother is built in companionship and Z and J used to entertain us with "the Bonzini brothers" doing tricks for us every night in the living room with the overturned furniture and cardboard boxes. San Juan Island is where Z really learned about friendships at our co operative preschool. At the age of four, he was reading all of the names of the kids in his preschool class to help the teacher. Christmas time he came home from preschool and asked me, "when are we going to be making spirits bright Mom?" and "Goodness is God's last name." When Josh exclaimed to Dick's boss Bob McAbee that "I'm two and a half!" Z with a sly grin said, "I knew him when he was two." One night Zach was late playing outside and D was calling and calling for him. Soon he came strolling up the driveway and D said, "Zachary why didn't you come when I called you?" to which Z answered, "I didn't hear you til the third time."
Our house in town had a staircase with a partial wall at the top of the stairs. There the boys [Z age 5 and Josh age 3] drew some lovely pictures of people and trees. I said, "Zachary! you know you're not supposed to draw on the walls." Z "I didn't it was Josh! see there's where he wrote his name." Me "Zach, Josh can't write." When he was six we overheard a conversation Zach had with his little brother, "when you grow up you'll be a man." Josh "I don't want to be a man I want to be a boy." Z: "A man is a boy, Josh, except a thirty year old doesn't play."
Zachary was a well liked boy and had an easy time in school. We had built and moved into our new house when he was eight and I, cruel mother, made the boys make their own lunches and walk the mile home from the school bus. For this I am now grateful as they are independent and capable. They were strictly forbidden to watch TV more than 4 hours a week. Ah but on their own at home after the long walk each day "Gilligan's Island" called. Truthfully, we didn't care. To choose their 4 hours of TV a week required studying the TV guide and negotiations for shows. We all have our standards and limiting the TV served us well, more time as a family.
Even though on Facebook Joshua Elias Grout claims to have been born in 1902, he was in fact born in 1972, a very welcome addition to our little family. He'd obviously sucked his thumb in utero because he was sucking that thumb only hours after he was born. Another cute thing he did was to hold his eyes open to their max when we sat him up. Brought a smile to everyone's face to see this smiley, wide eyed baby. He was the kind of baby you could plop in an infant seat and he'd be happy watching the world go by. Josh wanted to do and be everything that Zach could do. Therefore he "crawled" on his hands and feet and walked when he was nine months old. Gasp.
When Josh was one years old we moved to SJI. I babysat for a friend, Cathy E. Sam and Josh E. were almost exactly our boys ages and I enjoyed them and this lead to nicely creating life long friends for Z and J. Josh was always physically active and also developed a good vocabulary early on. The one thing that I noticed was at age three he could count up to 20 but he didn't know his colors. We figured out that he was probably color blind as it was prevalent in a couple of my uncles.
From the baby book: Josh was always very affectionate and in the house in town after D had gotten the boys ready for bed Josh would walk down each stair saying, "I wove you, I wove you" to me. Makes me teary and tickled to remember that. Josh was enamored of his brother and also the big kids on the block who he followed around like a puppy. This had consequences. My Grandmother, GG was ill and I was very concerned. Vail age 5 helped Josh then almost 3, make a card for GG which I found. I opened it up and there was 'writing' on it. I said to Josh, "what does this say?" Josh holding the card says "Ah, it says, fuck you."
We had an oil heater and didn't want the boys playing next to it, it was hot. I was upstairs and heard them in that room through the floor grate. I yelled down, "whoever is in that back room better get out!" and he answered, "no one down here can hear you."
Zach convinced Josh that a hard hat their father owned was a 'cowboy hat'. Josh would wear it on his head and say "MOO!" I used to take the boys on trips when D had to work. We'd go to Olympia and we'd go visit Sally and Dirk. This was the era when filling your own gas tank was new and novel. I filled the tank, proud of myself, and blithely drove down the road until I heard something on top of the car. Not wanting to swear, in deference to the boys I said, "God Bless America!" stopped the car and fetched the cap off the top. Josh told his Dad about it later and said, "when Mom said God bless America I thought she'd runned over a baby eagle."
Lucky me, we raised these boys on an island, in our own house with lots of room to run around, close enough to friends that they could walk to see. Both of them loved to be outdoors, loved sports and had good friends. These boys were good sports and good companions which made life pleasant for a mother. This was true even when I was going through very rough times. [the stillborn Sarah Emily in 1975 and the last pregnancy which was unsuccessful and resulted in a therapeutic abortion in 1977.] The boys were so affectionate and caring, even when they didn't really grasp what was going on with me. Every family has difficult times and grief can interrupt even the most stalwart among us.
We didn't hover over the boys and I'm quite sure we never monitored their school work, trusting that they would remain good students as they were both so bright. I trusted their judgement which when they became teens which wasn't always the wisest move. As I said, more later!
This is my Mother's Day gift to myself. Reveling in the joys of the boys.
X0
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