Sandy in Nanaland

Dear Hubby stayed back at the homestead to oversee the new coach lights going in at the foot of the garage, play some golf (it rained for the first time in over a month today), get caught up on paperwork, check into some consulting work, and piddle. 

Nana, having been invited by the middle child to come and babysit the boys, run the carpools, take Harry to violin lessons, go over homework, and dispute disagreements amongst the 10+ boys playing in the backyard this afternoon, had a rather adventuresome day.

My day started off with a glance at the five pages of typed instructions for me on the side of the refrigerator.  I was told to get the 7 year old up at 6:45 am.  He can only handle two things in the 25 minutes he has between then and leaving for the bus twenty-five minutes later - getting dressed and eating breakfast.  I wonder if I get any points for accomplishing only one of those things?

After that boy was gone, I discovered that the sandwiches with their names on them were still in the refrigerator.  Not to worry.  I put the 4 year olds' sandwich in his lunch box and placed the 7 year olds' sandwich by his library book, which he had intentionally left because he could not find his "other" library book.

As luck would have it, the four year old was dressed in no time flat, ate a bit of his cereal, and got in the car with the only problem being that we both had to run through the sprinklers. 

Dear Daughter, who is very thoughtful, organized, and prepared was afraid that the GPS and I couldn't find our way to the pre-school (actually if you can ever find your way out of the neighborhood, the rest is a piece of cake) had a neighbor lined up to guide me.

I dropped the 4 year old off, then the neighbor and I headed to the elementary school.  The neighbor had wanted to check the lost and found, and I wanted to deliver the sandwich and library book to the 7 year old.

While at the school, I proceeded to assist the neighbor in looking for her boy's grey Old Navy jacket, only to find our 7 year old's West Virginia gray hoodie.  Nice haul for me, not so great for the neighbor.

When I returned to pick up the 4 year old, his first words were, "That was a lot of lunch!"  Hmmmm.

Upon arriving home and talking to Mom who was waiting on her flight in Dallas, I discovered that the two sandwiches in the refrigerator were actually for tomorrow and that I had "doubled-up" on sandwiches.
Obviously it hadn't bothered the 4 year old, as he had eaten the entire lunch I had sent with him. In case you are wondering he's going to have 2 again tomorrow.  By 2, I mean 2 halves.  These boys are not tanks, although they are healthy eaters.

In the meantime, the little one and I located his prescription medicine for his allergies, and he proceeded to show me the spoon that Mom gives the meds in.  I was looking for one of those baby measure spoons, just for baby meds and in my defense was a bit thrown off that Dear Daughter uses regular measuring spoons.

Well, to cut to the chase I gave the poor little guy two 1/2 Tablespoons full, thinking that it was 1/2 teaspoon and would equal the 1 teaspoon that he was supposed to have.  When I realized what I had done (I don't think I've ever seen a 1/2 Tablespoon measure before today), I quietly panicked and said some mean things to myself about my intelligence or lack thereof....

First I called the pharmacy and went through their exhausting menu only to be cut-off.  I dialed again and decided that I wouldn't wait more than a couple of minutes, as I was not feeling very good about what I had done.

The girl at the pharmacy told me that because our little one was under five, I would have to call the pediatrician.  So, yet another call.  The receptionist at the doctor's office informed me that I needed to call poison control and gave me the number.

By this time I was thinking about how unpleasant this was going to be when I had to confess to Dear Daughter and Dear Son-in-Law, watching little grandson for signs of unusual behavior, and pacing the floor (I love cordless phones!).

I should break here for a minute to insert that during all of this, the precious little over-dosed grandchild was only wanting the not-so-super Nana to "fix" the television and find Scooby Doo.

The woman at the Poison Control was awesome.  She took the information: age, weight, health, etc, then assured me that our precious grandson would be fine.  In fact, she said that he would have had to have taken six times what I gave him to be treated (emergency).  She laughed (to make me feel less guilty, I'm sure), as I confessed what I had done. 

And by the way, isn't it a bit unusual to find a 1/2 Tablespoon measure?

The day ended pretty much as predicted with 10+ boys playing soccer or football (they seemed to switch from one to the other), and me finally bringing our two in for crock-pot chicken, couscous, and broccoli.

The little guy asked to pray after I had prayed.  He always starts off, "Dear God," which just melts my heart, then he mumbles (so that I am starting to believe that he has a secret he shares with the Big Man), then added, "And thanks for Nana playing cards with us."

Oh, Dear God, thank you for this perfect day, filled with your perfect little people.  They are such an incredible gift.  A Most Grateful Nana