Romping in Portlandia

It’s Christmas Eve on a raw, chilly day in Portland.  Since our arrival a few days ago, we’ve gotten acquainted with two-and-half month old Theron.  We’re enjoying being  with him and his big brother Eliot.   Reliving the glow of parenting without the daily responsibilities of nourishing and disciplining is arguably the most joyous state in grand-parenting.  In its place is the freedom to play, to laugh, to act silly and romp like a child. With the nearly four-year old Eliot, we’ve been having grand conversations, marveling at his advanced vocabulary, listening to his stories,  admiring his skill in the matching game and simply being childlike with him in the games he likes to play.  This morning we took a walk wth him, his papa and little brother as he rode his balance bike.  Ah! Cuddling with Theron is a heavenly gift.

What bountiful joy there is in his smile and wide eyes as he listens intently to Melanie and me, especially when we speak French. We enjoy hearing his contented gurgling. There’s music to his soft cries, but that opinion may not be shared by his sleep-deprived parents.  On the floor, he swims in place, legs flailing wildly. By the time we see him again in the summer, those legs will be pushing him across the floor.

As I write this, Eliot and his Mamie are making Christmas ornaments for the tree.  He enjoys learning new things.   Inquisitive and quick to learn, he was fascinated by Melanie’s reading to him from a Heifer International magazine about milk other than cow’s — yak, goat, sheep, water buffalo, camel.  And, like many kids his age, he loves to draw.  His artistry is on display on the corner walls of the dining room.   And, like his Mamie, he loves books,  especially those about trucks.  This afternoon we will decorate the Christmas tree, and later, like many others across the globe, we’ll retire for the evening in anticipation of St. Nick’s arrival and, for Christians, the heralding of the newborn, Jesus.

At the children’s Christmas Eve Mass, the priest asked the kids what gift would they like to give the world.  The first child to respond, said”peace;”another shouted “love,”  and the last gleefully chimed “hope.”   Hope captures the true meaning of Christmas that is  manifested in the unadulterated innocence of children.   Our special Christmas gift is the sharing of love with Eliot and Theron.

Christmas morning as expected was full of excitement! Too early for Theron, but Eliot’s joy in unwrapping gifts was contagious.  The simplest of gifts elicited squeals of pleasure!  Stickers were as equally appreciated as the Lego car.  In addition to the gifts around the tree was the treasure hunt for hidden presents, the clues of discovery embedded in several rhymed verses of Melanie’s imagination.  It’s a decades old Smith family tradition begun by her father.   And what may well become another Smith tradition is the Christmas dinner of Thai food created by Chef Ethan.   Earlier today, as we exchanged Christmas greetings with the Guillaume Family in D. C., we learned of another non-traditional meal, red beans and rice with roast, prepared by Chef Alfred that may as well become another tradition.

The day after Christmas festivities, Melanie and I gave Ethan and Nicole a respite from parenting.  In the early afternoon, Melanie and I took the kids for a long walk with stops at the library, where I spent considerable time in the children’s corner reading to Eliot, and at Jack-in-the Box for a french fry treat.  During our walk Eliot stopped several times to examine more closely a leaf, a stone or some other object with his magnifying glass. Each time he marveled at a new discovery.

Our brief visit ends tomorrow with a return to the bitter cold that awaits us in South Bend. Our next travel adventure is in January to D.C. to meet our new grand-daughter, Juliette, and her big sister, Michelle.