I had the opportunity this week to solo caregive my 3-month-old grandson, Chapman. Over the course of four days—36 hours—my primary jobs were to keep him alive and empty the smoldering diaper bin before the neighbors complained. My wife and I took over this role two weeks ago, but with her out of town on family business, I was flying solo. I had some dated experience, of course, having raised two sons of my own. But Janet did much of the heavy lifting around the house then, while I was out saluting and such.

So, how’d it go? Spoiler alert: Chappie survived the week. I thank God for that! But the week was about more than just survival. I learned some things.

I’m a nerd. Many of you already know that. I kept copious notes, not because Kyle and Laci asked me to but because there was data to be captured. I feared a tricky end-of-day question like, “Did you feed him?” and not being able to come up with a good answer. So, I took notes. I was exceedingly careful, like when Janet asks for my opinion on a new outfit. The tale of the tape? I’m glad you asked!20 full or partial feedings, totaling 58 ounces of formula14 diaper changes—11 wet and 3 nasty (“Chernobyl”, “Fukushima”, and “The View”)14 naps, ranging from 10 to 80 minutes (and those were just mine!)15+ periods of “playtime” – exercising, tummy time, coddling, bouncy chair, listening to Steely Dan, etc.1 new song learned—“If you’re Chappie and you know it…”1 meltdown, 10 minute duration2 stroller rides to apartment lobby (on one, a roaming woman with dementia referred to him as “she” three times!)1 penile spray, soaking my right hand, his clothes, and the changing table; followed by a giggle. Well played, Chappie, well played.

2. I am in love with this kid! Chappie and I bonded. There is something about caring for a little one that brings you closer—makes you vested. An infant is totally dependent on you for everything—high stakes. I didn’t think I could love Chappie any more than I did on Monday, but I do. It’s like putting your heart and soul into restoring an old car. The more effort involved, the fonder you become of the ever-evolving, growing product. Chappie and I (not unlike his brother Bradford and I) are buds now. I will be unequivocally in his corner for life.

3. I have profound respect for single parents and others who fly solo as caregivers. I got breaks at night. Some caregivers don’t. Janet and I have our Saturdays-Mondays mostly off. Some caregivers don’t. I only had one child to keep up with. Some have multiple. I received positive feedback from Chappie’s parents and from Chappie himself. The big smiles. The cooing when I laid him on my chest. Not all caregivers get “positive feedback” from the ones they care for. You may care for a special needs child who is unable to communicate appreciation or for a parent who doesn’t recognize you anymore. You may never get a “thank you” or even a smile. Kudos to you folks! God sees and loves everything you do! Don’t give up! I have a newfound respect and appreciation for you.

4. I used to think of a grandparent’s love as something that gets “divided” amongst their grandchildren. Like if you have four grands, they each get a quarter of your heart. I was so wrong about that. A grandparent’s heart doesn’t divide; it multiplies! I didn’t think it was possible to love any child as much as I love my first grandchild, Bradford. That kid is special! His love for animals, especially ducks. The way he puts his hands behind his back when he runs. The way he gorges on scrambled eggs and clings to his mom when she comes home from work. The way he calls me “Bob” because he can’t quite pronounce “Papa Fob”. Then Chappie comes along and, miraculously, my heart has doubled in size! I’m not dividing anything. I’m multiplying. I’m somehow growing capacity. And guess what? Sometime in the next week or so Janet and I will drive to North Carolina for the birth of our third grandchild and first granddaughter! What a blessing! As Rachel’s belly shrinks, my heart will be growing—bursting at the seams. Multiplying, not dividing. More family. More memories to be made. More love. More capacity.

Maybe even a little glimpse at the kind of love God has for us.