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Glad to see 'em come, glad to see 'em goWe had the first visit from our grandchildren this weekend. It was wonderful, but I now understand my father's observation of his joy on their arrival and departure. I know we are not the first grandparents, but perhaps our experience has been your own or your destiny at when your children have children and bring them to your home. Our daughter and son-in-law live in the Washington, D.C. area and their twins, Jack and Layla, are almost two-years old. We've been to see them several times but this was their first trip to "Rural America" to spend time with us. "We've got to childproof this house!" was my wife's first exclamation upon learning that the grandchildren were coming. "We've got to find beds for them to sleep in," was the second. So I got out the drill and screwdriver and made the rounds to every cabinet door to attach special latches that couldn't be breached by a two-year-old and were darned hard for me to handle, as well. We put everything out of reach and, in the process, broke some of the things we were trying to save. We padded the corners of tables so a fall wouldn't turn into a tragedy. Gail laid in a supply of new toys and books and bought plenty of food, to the point that the refrigerator door was ready to pop open. Then, they arrived, with hugs by parents and a quizzical, standoffish look by toddlers. That didn't last long as our grandson began exploring the house. He never tried any of the doors I'd fixed; he just went straight for the items we thought were safe enough or high enough and brought them down to floor level. Our granddaughter stood on the couch and tumbled onto the rounded edge of the coffee table and took a big bruise to her cheek. The toys were OK but nothing kept their attention for more than 10 seconds and the building block train became ammunition-more than a tool to encourage hand-eye coordination. I remember my parent's' home when I was young and watching them deal with my brother's children. The first few minutes were great; and then they'd settle down to try and visit while little ones ran out the doors and climbed ladders or jumped off porches. The worst times were when they'd leave the kids with us and my mother was fully in charge of them. She'd worry from the first moment and do her best to keep them corralled and entertained. Dad would escalate any play to the point that someone cried and that would infuriate her. Finally, my oldest brother's youngest son got the better of his grandfather. In death defying leaps and sneak attacks, he succeeded in injuring the barefoot man and causing him to grab his shoes and retreat from the house just to get away from the little devil. This weekend, we had the added pleasure of our daughter, born in Oklahoma but educated in Virginia, commenting on the "rural and rustic nature" of our Iowa community. "The car wash is the only place with any activity in this town on Sunday," was her observation. For an hour one afternoon, they left the babies with us and drove to the Sonic Drive-In because she likes their cherry limeades and that chain hasn't made it to the East Coast yet. She didn't mention the traffic free roads or the courteous people or the open spaces that we enjoy. Just: "Where's the corn?" on a snowy day in early April. And this line: "I could never live here" which caused us to smile and think "never say never" in this life. As the weekend progressed, we all calmed down and got to see the personalities of these two little people. Jack is all boy and has the bruises to prove it. He runs constantly and has a flirtatious smile that just melts your heart. Layla is careful, studious and verbal. She will try any word and is now stringing them together in sentences that sort of make sense. She has facial features and mannerisms that give me the feeling that my mother has been born again and is going to live a 21st century life without the restrictions and impediments she faced in her 84 years in the last century. We went to church, to the science center and to a park. The babies played, ate, pooped and slept-sometimes in the car seats in the garage rather, than wake them and endure crying and screaming. They woke up early and their weary parents joined us in chasing and cleaning up in their wake all weekend. On Monday morning early, they departed for the airport, which was criticized for being "small," and we waved good-bye. We reconfigured our house for the next twenty-four hours and made it where we could open the cabinets and display our keepsakes. We boxed up the slightly, to severely, used toys and books and put them away for the next visit. We quietly reflected on the weekend and expressed our thankfulness that we had children when we were young. We realized that we'd gotten to know two new members of our family who will amaze us each time we see them in the years to come. Next visit will be easier, we hope. All the memories of childhood flooded back and the generational passage makes more sense. I realized my father's words could not be more true: "Glad to see 'em come, glad to see 'em go!" Editor's Note: This is Ken Root's 34th year as an agricultural reporter. He grew up on a small farm in central Oklahoma and started his career as a vocational agriculture teacher. He worked in Oklahoma, Kansas and Missouri as a broadcaster and was the original host of AgriTalk. He has also been the executive director of the National AgriChemical Retailers Association in Washington, D.C. and the National Association of Farm Broadcasters in Kansas City. Ken is now the lead farm broadcaster at WHO and WMT Radio based in Des Moines, Iowa. He has been a columnist for HPJ and Midwest Ag Journal for seven years. 4/21/08
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