The Remains of the Week (or The Boss Has Left the Building)

Paul and I babysat for our 15-month-old grandson Willem, aka the Boss, last week while his parents took a well-deserved, childless vacation.  (Megan titled their trip "Bossless in Oregon.")  We split the week with Willem’s other grandparents; and it worked out so well that the four of us voted to make this an annual event, at the very least.

After WMD (Willem, Megan and David) left yesterday, I  worked, reluctantly, at restoring the house to its former condition.  It was slow going because, frankly, I wasn’t in a big hurry to rescue my Tupperware cabinet from total chaos or to reunite pillows with the appropriate couches or to clean the sticky spots off the floor. All the electrical outlets are still child-proofed.The dining room window blinds were still raised enough to allow a very short person to keep an eye on important stuff like the grass cutting crew, the sprinkler and the birds. You can tell Willem’s favorite look-out posts by the finger and nose prints.   

I had the luxury of being able to clean up the kitchen without stopping to follow the sound of fast little bare feet in the back hallway or to investigate the excited shrieks coming from the bathroom. It's not as much fun to do dishes, however, since I'm not racing to get the glasses, plates and silverware loaded into the dishwasher before Willem tries to climb in.

My pantry is down to a bare minimum of baby food – a couple of stray containers of applesauce and a little rice cereal along with the last box of Baby Mum Mum’s, his teething crackers.  That, at least, is a step in the right direction.  I couldn’t find Baby Mum Mum’s at the grocery for his visit last Labor Day weekend and was so delighted to find them on Amazon.com that I didn’t put on my glasses to read the fine print. Instead of a box, I wound up with a whole case and  found myself wondering how they would taste as hors d’ oeuvres with Cajun crab spread or eggplant caponata.

I did collect the scattered blocks, stuffed animals and trucks, along with the garage, farm and Noah’s ark and pack them away downstairs even though there is now a big, empty space in the living room, like when you take down the Christmas tree.  I left Willem’s tub toys in the Jacuzzi which is no problem because, in the 8 years we’ve been in this house, we’ve only used it once.  In fact, we didn’t want to put in a tub at all but our builder convinced us it was a good idea and he was right, seeing how much fun Willem had splashing around in that big tub. Just wait until he’s old enough for the water jets – they'll blow his mind.


Willem’s car was on our back deck just the way he left it – lying on its side.  While he enjoys driving it, he mostly likes its spinning wheels when he’s not spinning the wheels on his dump truck, his fire truck or Paul’s Schwinn Airdyne.  He is probably headed for a career as a race car driver or a roulette player.

For the first time in almost a week, I can go downstairs without climbing over the baby gate which was a challenge but probably good for my  glutes or my flutes or some other out-of-shape body part.  Anyway, without the gate, it was easier to pack away the porta-crib and the diaper changing gear although I wasn’t especially eager to do either of those things.

By the end of the day, I could walk anywhere in the house barefoot, confident that I wouldn't stub my toe on one of Willem's cube chairs or step on a wooden puzzle piece. The only physical evidence of Willem’s stay with us was a few drool marks on the breakfast room chair cushions and some errant Cheerios. I expect one of his chubby, cheerful little plastic people will turn up in an unexpected spot soon.  Meanwhile, Paul and I have countless wonderful memories, backed up by a ridiculous number of photos and we’re already looking forward to the Boss's next visit.