Nine, going on ten

During the past week, I’ve gotten to spend a lot of time with my partner’s 9-year old (almost 10 … within weeks, in fact) grandson. I recommend this experience to anyone who enjoys kids.

This is a great, fluid age—cuddly at one moment, on the verge of that early adolescent “adults are so embarrassing!” attitude the next. If you can find a space that allows both (without calling attention to either), kids this age can be a treat. There’s so much to learn from them: how the world looks to a person just becoming aware of its breadth; how the world looks to a kid who knows far more about technology than I will ever learn; how adults look from the perspective of 9 years’ wisdom; how much kids pick up the language and attitudes of folks around them.

Case in point: when I get frustrated with the world (or with myself)—like, I forget something, someone else doesn’t follow through, or something doesn’t work right—I have a habit of saying, “Rat’s toe!” It substitutes nicely for the other things I might say. So, after I had hung out with this guy for a morning, he got frustrated at something and said, from the back seat of the car, “Rat’s toe!” My partner cracked up. It only took a few hours for him to pick it up and make it his own (although I admit I have no idea how often I said it in those hours). We’ve heard other comments from him that sound so much like his parents’ words and intonation, it seems quite clear where they came from.

So this is a child on the brink of adolescence, learning almost as easily as he breathes, eager to learn (and sometimes quite certain that he knows most things), full of mastery (and sometimes able to admit to still being “a kid” and needing some direction). In short, he’s very fun, very challenging … and exhausting to keep up with.

The first day he was here held many of the elements of what this time with him has been like. Take a look:

It was a cold day, with the promise of snow by noon. We headed for the skate park despite the cold. I think he didn’t quite believe he could get too cold to enjoy skating (he lives in a warm climate), and he was too eager to skate to care anyway. Part of the skate park was full of snow, so he skated on the few parts that were clear and not too difficult. He got cold pretty quickly, so we left before long for hot chocolate. But not before I got a picture of him with his board near the snow and one of him about to go off a marble slab. (I suggested re-doing it so I could catch him in mid-air, but he was too cold).

I also snapped a few pictures that said something about the culture of skateboard parks. The first is for the skateboarders. Framing the park as fearsome is bound to make conquering it worthwhile. The others suggest that this place is prone to trash (apparently enough to require bulldozers) and is home to a range of kids, including some with serious trouble in their lives.

After lingering (!) over hot chocolate, we went to Boulder to get him a season pass at Eldora so he could polish up his snowboarding skills during his two weeks here. Actually, he seemed to be torn between assuring me that this would be plenty of time to become completely proficient and reporting that he already had it pretty well mastered, having boarded 3 or 4 times before. 

Then we picked up my partner and headed to Denver for an appointment. Among the finer experiences of the day, in my book, were sightings of many hawks, a coyote, and a bald eagle as we drove around Boulder and then to Denver. He seemed to enjoy them, too, as he glanced up from the back seat … but maybe a tad less than playing games on his ipod. Our day ended with a hot dog at Mustard’s Last Stand. This is a stop he has always loved, vying for the hot dog consumption record (which for him, a scrawny kid, has been two hot dogs). But a day or so later, he announced that he is “pretty much over hot dogs,” at least for a while. This may be related to the fact that we saw a very drunk man on the sidewalk outside as we sat at the counter in Mustard’s (probably the first time he has ever seen this). A very sensitive and reflective kid, he may have found this experience too unpleasant for hot dogs to seem like much fun—at least for a while. 

Other days have held other activities and other combinations of folks. But across it all, spending time with him has been consistently a pleasure. He’s a very nice boy, his curiosity is fun (if his all-encompassing “knowledge” is sometimes annoying), and his ease with adults makes him an interesting conversation partner. Yet, without any actual exertion or any late nights, I find myself worn out at the end of days like this. I am reminded over and over why parenting is done by people who are younger (by decades!).

He’ll be here for another week, but much of that time will be spent with other folks, so my days with him this trip will now be limited. I’m certain I’ll appreciate the time we’ll have over this week, and I’ll look forward to spending time with him again next time the opportunity arises.

In the meantime, I need to work out more or else rest up for his visit.