Dinner has been eaten, table cleared & dishes loaded into the dishwasher (or not, depending on my mood lol). My grandkids have taken their showers and are in their jammies. My husband is watching the news in the family room, unless a more important show like Bunk’d or Liv & Maddy is being watched in which case he’ll reside to the basement and watch the news there. My daughter is making lunches for the kids for school the next day. I sit on the couch ready to settle in for the evening and BAM! it happens. Like a bolt of lightning, a surge of energy hits the house and I’m in the midst of a wrestling match or a game of The Floor is Lava or a “you can’t catch me” running race. This is a typical evening in our house.

As I sit on the couch watching the chaos erupt around me I find myself annoyed at this sudden burst of energy. Where are my quiet evenings? Sitting on the couch, my husband sitting on his couch, watching the evening news. We chat about our day, watch a show or two and then retire for the night. This is what I thought life at our age would be like. My daughter comes in and the kids yell, “mom, you can only step on the pillows, the floor is lava” and I think to myself, she’s going to tell them to calm down and find something quiet to do. Instead, she tells them that she’s wearing magic slippers that can walk on lava. They laugh and continue on their quest to make it around the room without touching the lava.

Growing up, my parents made evenings a time to do something quiet like coloring, playing a board game, or watching a show. If my sister and I were running around the house or had taken all the toss pillows from the couch and thrown them on the floor and used them as stepping stones to prevent touching the hot lava, we would have been told to settle down and find something quieter to do. I assume this is how my parents were raised and why they raised my sister and me the same. So, I tried to raise my girls the same, keeping evenings for quiet activities. I guess sometimes they were, but I wasn’t quite as persistent. There were many evenings when my girls would be horsing around or jumping on their mini trampoline, carefree and laughing. My most favorite sound is the sound of my girls laughing, so this brought me happiness, not frustration. I remember on nights that my parents would come over to visit they would say, “Lisa, shouldn’t they be settling down?” I’d think, times are different, kids need to burn off their excess energy before they settle in for the night.

As I come out of my memory and back to the present I find myself laughing too. I think, why was I so quick to get annoyed? I love listening to my grandchildren having fun & laughing. Yes it’s loud and yes I’m tired, but they’re not doing anything wrong, just having some fun. Why should the time of day matter? This is when it hits me. I’ve become the older generation, the generation that wants quiet evenings…or st least I thought I did. I have the amazing privilege of having my grandchildren living here every other week, being a part of their childhood, watching them grow and flourish, and I will embrace it.

The game is over, the lava turns back into the floor. The kids have spent the last of their energy for the day and are now sitting quietly watching a show before bed. As the show ends the kids get up, come over to me and give me big hugs and kisses and say, “goodnight Grammy, I love you”. My heart melts as if it has touched the lava and I tell them I love them trillions, to sleep well and I’ll see them in the morning. I can’t imagine my evenings being anything different than what they are. Honestly, I don’t want them to be and I wouldn’t trade what I have for anything. For what I have is the world. ❤️