When I first found out I
would be a grandma I was adamant about NOT being called grandma. Far too many
stigmas of ‘old’ people associated with that word. I tried out several other
non-stigmatic words so as not to place myself in the proverbial rocking chair.
In the end, I decided that Nana fit the bill. Try as we might, Nana simply didn’t
sound right nor did it fit me. Next, we tried Granny, which I was comfortable
with. (I know, Granny was ok, but Grandma was not. Geez.) So I called myself
Granny…right up to the moment our first grandson said Grandma. And that was all
it took. In an instant I was known as Grandma Nae. If that’s what it felt like
to be called Grandma, then it was okay with me.
Having raised two daughters,
it would have been hard to convince me that our first four grandchildren would
be boys. And I will tell you right now that boys are certainly different than
girls. Boys talk about farts (all the time) and they laugh about farts (all the
time) and they cannot walk into the room and simply sit down. They have to run
into the room, spin in a circle and hit their brother then dive onto the couch
and throw a pillow on the floor. And all that is in the first 30 seconds of
entering the house. (I’m guessing that our granddaughter is going to pick up on
many of these things soon.) ha!
I will say however that many of
the things that come out of their mouths are incredibly cute.
*The other day I told the 3 year
old that I was going to take a shower and he leaned over and smelled my arm and
said, “Why? You don’t stink.”
Good to know. ha!
*The same 3 year old grandson
always tells me, “You’re my best friend.”
I just wish I could bottle up
the feeling in my chest when I hear him say that.
Someone asked me once if
being a grandma made me feel old. Well…it doesn’t make me feel young. Being a
grandma can be hard work. All those kickball games, reading the same book 5
times in a row, dishing up ice cream for five grand kids and giving kisses
faster than they can wipe them off. Whew! But somehow I manage.
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