Saturday was my youngest of five grandchildren's 3rd birthday. Eliza had been up since dawn and was making the most of the day. Helium balloons covered the ceiling like an upside down garden of pink flowers, and a pile of presents sat in one corner of the room waiting for the children to wear themselves out enough to sit quietly while the birthday girl opened her gifts.
Apart from Eliza's older brother and sister, Sam aged 5 and Bella aged 8, there were 10 adults and 11 children in various stages of meltiness when the air-conditioner decided it couldn't cope. The children, as usual, fared much better than the adults and ran around like lunatics. The only time they slowed down was when they were eating and when my oldest granddaughter, thirteen-year-old Emma, organised a game of "Dead Ants". This is a wonderful game, which I am sure all the parents appreciated. Emma counted to five and shouted, "Dead Ants." The kids all had to drop to the ground where they were and not move or make a sound until she said, "Ants alive."
Needless to say, there was a lot of giggling coming from the dead ants as they waited for their resurrection and could chase one another around the lounge room until the command 'dead ants' was once again given.
The birthday girl announced today, that she wanted another party because the other one was so much fun and her friends could all come again and they would eat cake and ice cream, but they didn't need to bring her more presents.
This coming Thursday, Eliza starts pre-school one day a week. That she is looking forward to going is an understatement, for one day last week, she woke at midnight, dressed herself, put on her school hat and her backpack, picked up her lunch bag and demanded that her daddy, who was still up watching TV, take her to school. Daddy did manage to convince her that the teachers were all asleep, but not until he took her into the backyard and showed her the moon and stars.
Children grow up far too quickly. Eliza is my baby, and I doubt there will be any more grandchildren-unless God decides otherwise-and in two years time when she goes to big school, my services as a babysitter will no longer be required except when Mummy needs to go shopping on her own.
Psalm 127:3 says, "Behold, children are a gift of the LORD," and I reckon with Grandchildren that goes double. So, in the meanwhile, I'll continue to thank God for them. I'll continue to pray that they each come to a saving knowledge of Christ, and I will love them, play with them and generally let them twist me around their little (and sometimes not so little) fingers.
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