Kickass Grandparenting: “We Have Capable Hands”

You know how you get a phrase or a bit of a song stuck in your head? Well, that happened to Adrian this week; and all day one day he chanted it:

We have capable hands, we have capable hands,
weeeee have caaaaaapable hands.

“Where did you hear that, Adrian?” I asked, after the 27th time.
“On Odd Squad,” he said.

I wondered at the context in their new favorite show, but didn’t ask.

We’ve had three successive good weeks here at Three of Earth School. Dare I begin to believe it might be a trend? That maybe we have turned a corner, figured it out, made our peace with the way things are?

Elliot had one bad day last week, but I stayed the course. I didn’t let his bad day become my bad day, and what a difference. I remember when I turned that corner with my mother too. We all have bad days. Young humans don’t yet know how to manage them, and old humans don’t remember. It wasn’t once and for all then that I was able to stay out of it, and I don’t suppose it will be with these guys either, but I am figuring it out.

There are signs of spring—including the first toothwort, the earliest woodland flower—and the sun is shining, maybe that’s a contributor to better days.

Spring also means yard work.

I got my second Covid vaccination; and Wynne—as a teacher—has gotten her first. Both my son and other daughter-in-love—essential workers in North Carolina—are fully vaccinated and I am breathing a huge sigh of relief for them. In celebration of just forty-eight hours short of “fully vaccinated” myself (that is, two shots plus two weeks), I’m celebrating by writing this post at my favorite, formerly-weekly, writing cafe, after a full year away; and then I’m going to Lowe’s for gardening supplies . . . and a chainsaw.

We have capable hands, we have capable hands,
weeeee have caaaaaapable hands.

In another break-through, after a winter of inviting one or the other boy, or both, to walk in the woods with me and being met with very determined “nos,” they wanted to go to Staebler Point when they arrived on Sunday, and on what turned out be a long hike in the woods on Monday. Elliot watched for new buds with me, and Adrian checked out animal prints in the mud.

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And one day they asked to pull weeds in the garden! Who are these children?

On the capable hands day, Adrian wanted to walk with just me, “on the high, high up trail” we’d all been on Monday. This time we were prepared with water and snacks. We didn’t make it to the high trail, he changed his mind, but it was a lovely time.

Another day, yet another excursion! He’s learning to choose and watch for landmarks. I don’t lead the way, he makes the decisions at the forks. We’ve been on all the trails nearest the house. If he chooses “wrong” trail he will recognize those we don’t usually go on. He’s learning capability. He will not be lost.

We have capable hands, we have capable hands,
weeeee have caaaaaapable hands.

After the forty-third time, I asked:
“Adrian, do you know what capable means?
“No.”
“It means we can do hard things.”

And we can. We are. One year since Covid-19 was declared a pandemic and the world shut down. One year since I’ve blogged in a cafe after a weekly habit of some twenty-five years. Five and a half months that my family has been attending Three of Earth School and Virtual Worksite. Maybe school will open next month, or maybe they will be with me until June 18. What I know is, when I think about them not coming anymore—hard as this has been for all of us—my chest tightens and tears fill my eyes.

“Adrian, would you like to have Camp Gigi this summer by yourself, and we can go for a hike in the mountains?”
“Yes! Can we take water and snacks? “
“Yes!”
“Just you and me alone time?”
“Yes! Just you and me.”
“And camping?”
“Um, let’s start with a hike.”

We have all been doing a hard thing, for a full year. A year of mostly staying home, wearing a mask to grocery shop in one-way aisles (something I wish would be permanent, but is already over in my town), washing hands like operating room staff, keeping hand sanitizer in the car cup holder, practicing yoga on Zoom, attending birthday parties on Zoom, adult beverages with friends on Zoom (actually I never did that, should have). It’s been almost a year and a half since I saw my other grandboys.

We have capable hands. We will weather this and then we will adapt to the next normal.

This just in: Washington’s governor will sign a proclamation “to ensure all school districts offer some in-person learning options (a minimum of 30% of the school week) to students by April.” Given that it most certainly will not be full time in Seattle and given my family drives 160 roundtrip miles every week for my help and now won’t be able to, this could be a challenge. Stay tuned.

We have capable hands, we have capable hands,
weeeee have caaaaaapable hands.