Two Small Ghosts of Christmas Past

New Year's Day.  2019.  I'm having a quick cup of coffee at Barista Parlor, just off Division Street, then heading down to visit my mom this morning.

Jude's brother, James, and his wife Megan visited us over the weekend with their two kids, Caroline and James.  Caroline is four and James is almost two years old.  For the first time, they stayed with us and it was an absolute blast.  Jude, the boys and loved having them stay with us.  We gave them the upstairs in our house so they had room to spread out, two bedrooms, my office for a little quiet time and their own bathroom.  It seemed to work out well.

Being around four and two year old kids for the first time in, well, forever, was an enlightening experience, to say the least.  It brought back so many happy memories of the times - not so long ago - when our J.P. and Joe were that age.  I was reminded - and I'd kind of forgotten, I think - of what a roller coaster ride it is to be the parents of young children.  Up's, down's, then do it all again with very little rest of down time.  It's intense, to be sure.

The pitter patter of little feet in the mornings.  Jude and I smiled in our bed downstairs, when we heard Caroline and James up and about in the mornings.  I used to love to hear J.P. jump out of bed upstairs in the old house, land with a thud and run across the hardwood floor to our bedroom.

A lot of tears and a lot of laughter.  Fortunately, the tears normally don't last very long.  A thunderstorm blow through, there are tears, then the thunderstorm is over almost as quickly as it started and you move on to something else.

Tag team eating.  It was funny watching James and Megan take turns eating a meal, especially when we were out at a restaurant.  One ate while one entertained James.  At almost two years of age, he doesn't like to sit still in a high chair for very long, especially if the food hasn't arrived.  While we were eating lunch Sunday at Mafiozza's, I lifted him our his high chair when he was fussing and we explored the restaurant.  Memories of similar experiences with J.P. first, then later with Joe, came flooding back.  There something special - something that's easy to take for granted - about having a child young and small enough to be able to pick him and carry him around for a few minutes.

Laughter.  There is no better sound it the world than a toddler's laughter.  It's not even close.  So innocent.  So happy.  It's perfection.  At Mafiozza's, I played a game where James and I fist bumped and after, I exploded my hand above his head and ran my fingers through his hair.  I used to do that with Joe, a lifetime ago.  Joe always laughed and James did, too.  Again and again and again.  When I acted like I was going to grab Caroline, she ran by me, laughing the laugh of a four year old.  It's the best.

Nap time.  Stealing an hour or two of down time.  So precious and so needed to recharge the batteries.

The early mornings.  5 or 5:30 a.m., 6:00 a.m. if you're lucky.  Wow.  I don't miss that.

The Pack & Play, where James slept at our house.  When Jude's parents dropped it off, I was stunned.  I hadn't ween our Pack & Play in years.  Our boys slept in it, on the road, in many, many places.  Cabins, hotel rooms and houses on the beach.  Jude and I - well, mostly Jude, became an expert at assembling it in five to ten minutes.

Then orange and yellow portable high chair seat that attached to a chair.  Again, I hadn't seen it in years.  We ate so many meals at so many restaurant in so many places with J.P. or Joe sitting in that seat after I lugged it in and clipped it to a chair at our table.

I could go on an on.  The only thing better would have been if I had gotten my stroller out - the venerable City Elite by Baby Jogger - and taken James or Caroline for a walk in the neighborhood.  Probably a little rainy for that, but maybe next time.

What a great visit.