The say that there is some Biblical thing- a curse even– that prevents women from recalling the pain of child birth so we will have another baby, but there may be also a kind of magic that makes grandmothers forget how much work young children are. We have had two little girls for four nights and five days, and after they went home to happy parents (with no stitches, not one trip to the clinic, clean, healthy, well fed, and well rested, I might add. Along with their large (mostly) bloodhound who also was still in one piece and wagging her tail…) I collapsed into a long afternoon nap. (Did I really do this with five? Was I crazy?)- But seriously, maybe it’s that I’m over fifty now– and maybe it’s the reminder of how much good there is in these little human beings, and what potential they have to do good and fix this messy world we have made for them– (they beat me at matching games)– But I know more than ever now that it is true about what they say about the hand that rocks the cradle changes the world. Teaching children well– to be kind, and mindful of the needs of the others, to play outside, read stories, sing songs, share, eat fruit and vegetables, and be gentle with animals and babies and sea shells and tea cups is the most important, significant, and enduring thing anyone of us can do– isn’t it?
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