Being Grandma

We spent time with our Grandson this weekend. He is a nine-month-old butterball that makes every wrinkle that I earned from his father and uncles worth it…and there were many. I think I went past wrinkles ten years ago and now just have caverns that rival the Grand Canyon and age spots where I once had freckles. It’s Ok…I’m 55…which means that my eyesight is gone also, which makes the age spots and caverns easier to accept.

My grandsons’ name is Zander, which hopefully means that he will not have the curse bestowed on my boys. They could never be just Chris, Tommy and Matt at school but were Chris G, Tommy G and Matt G since there was almost always another boy in their class with the same name. They forgave me for giving them “common” names and are grateful that I didn’t go for names like Money, Burger or Hippo, which apparently are common enough that they made the Totally Insane Baby Names list.

There are perks to grand-parenting that are sadly lacking as a parent. One being, when the baby is very fussy, you can call his parents…which when you are the parent, is you. No matter how bad your day was, that kid is going home with you. It’s a law. I had to explain that to my husband on our first long trip in his jeep…three boys and a seven hour drive. He wanted to drop them off in the desert. I had to break the news that no matter how annoying they got in the back seat, we were legally bound to keep them in the vehicle. We bought a mini-van the next week.

Grandparents also are not kept to the same common sense as Parents. My grandson likes teething biscuits. They are apparently a form of baby crack. I won’t tell you how many he got yesterday…but I need to buy another box.

Grand-parenting also allows you to look at all the things that you rushed through when your kids were little. Don’t ever ask me what age my kids walked, were potty-trained or held a cup. It was before they went to kindergarten. Now I get to just enjoy every milestone and not feel guilty for forgetting to write it in the baby book. I think I’ve taken more pictures of my grandson in 9 months than I did of my youngest in 5 years. I have his birth picture and his kindergarten picture. I tell him that not a lot happened in between.

So Grand-parenting is God’s little reward for not completely blowing it as a parent. There were moments when I had no idea what I was doing as a mother, but my boys had the good grace to not hold it against me. They truly had my heart and soul and still hold that spot today. I guess you grow another spot, however, that only your grandchildren can fill. Zander has that spot all to himself right now until another comes along.

And Grandma and Grandpa are all good with that!