The tenth grandchild is coming in October! Can’t wait! Grandkids are great!
Last year I built a swing set for the grandkids, then a fire truck (you can read that here).
The boys had something, but JJ, daughters, daughter-in-laws, and even granddaughters said they wanted something for the girls, specifically, a playhouse.
I drew up plans for a little 10’ x 10’ playhouse, bought the materials and started work.
It’s insulated, with lights, porch lights and a plug for a heater or fan powered by an extension cord.
Like everything that comes from your hands though, I know where I messed up. I see my mistakes, things others, besides building professionals, may miss.
But I see them.
I shake it off. Remind myself that the goal isn’t perfection, even if I want it. Demanding perfection, whether in a playhouse or a child’s life and behavior, destroys the goal.
The goal is grandchildren play. The goal is for fun, stability, security, solid roots in the kiddos. The goal is for fondness, memories, experiences that become the building blocks of life, that will in part come from Pawpaw and JJ’s house.
If the foundation of a child’s life, the walls of love, siding of experience, or the roof of character has cracks, holes or leaks, the whole thing may shift, rot and ultimately, fall.
Stuff is stuff. Kids are kids.
Never damage a million-dollar kid over a ten-dollar piece of wood.
While I built, Janet looked for playhouse items. She found a table, chairs, decorations, kitchen set, and soon to be hung curtains. She even had a “move in day” with two of the granddaughters who helped get it all situated.
And even though it’s inaugurated for the granddaughters, the grandsons enjoy it just as much, and in some ways, maybe even more.
Let me confess. I’m worried about the grandkid’s future.
I know the pat answers.
“It’ll all work out in the end.”
“They’ll do just fine.”
And, “God’s in control”.
It’s all true.
But it’s getting to be a crazy, crazy world in which we live. Things seem to come faster, harder and with more impact on children today than when my kids grew up, and way faster and harder than when I did.
It seems our societal glue is coming apart, while the fabric of life suffers more wear and tear.
Little feet and small hands shouldn’t be formed by the world’s chaos and disorder. Little toes and fingers should be calloused from running in the grass, climbing trees and pedaling bicycles in the driveway.
Instead, sometimes the callouses are on the behind and thumbs from sitting and texting, playing video games while staring nonchalantly at a screen.
The playhouse is ready. They play in it now. Fun, innocent, precious children. That’s today.
What about tomorrow? They will grow up and from person to person, family to family, generation to generation, each one will one day assume the keys to their own house.
Yet a swarming hive of worried thoughts buzz in my head about their future. Even so, I can’t change their future. Not at all.
But maybe, just maybe, we can influence them by pointing them to the Light along their way.
Today it’s a playhouse, but one day, I hope they are all lighthouses shining the way toward truth. That’s the building plans. Let’s hope it turns out that way!