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.