I'm a young grandma. There are a lot of goals I had in mind for the age of 45, and being a grandmother wasn't one of them. I watched my highly intelligent sister lose her mind over her grandson and I didn't think I'd be like that. Somehow I figured that I'd be level-headed; firmly saying NO to too much babysitting and YES to all the things I'd put off while parenting my own three girls to adulthood. What happened to ME?
I find that I want to feed him all the time. He sees me and like a baby bird, his arms start flapping and his mouth opens wide. I'd like to say that I only poke wholesome foods in that sweet mouth, but NO, I give him whatever his heart desires. At least I'm not as bad has his grandpa who tickles him constantly and wants to make a game out of everything from feeding time to really-messy-diaper changing time.
My days off from work were going to be about skinny, fashionable ME finding my style. I dreamed of strolling, lazily through malls; not worrying about finances or pressed for time. In my fantasies, I'd sip a diet soda while laughing with a friend as we tried on 50 pairs of jeans to find that perfect fit.
Alas, the real ME takes a day off work for the Pumpkin Patch so I can chase toddlers through the fields with my camera and rejoices in the moments of new discovery on innocent faces. So what if my jeans are too tight in the thighs and belted at the waist to prevent plumbers butt? So what if my daughter is criticizing my photojournalistic intensity by saying that I am embarrassing her. So what?
I AM GRANDMA. Anyone want a snack?
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