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When I got off work Tuesday morning, I pickup up a bakers dozen of assorted bagels and headed to motherhubbard’s house. The baby had been sick and I wanted to see my girl and her boys and see how they were doing. We try to do this often, but sometimes I’m so tired I worry about making it home, it’s a 35-45 min. drive. Anyway, she makes coffee and we visit and I play with the boys and we eat bagels and have coffee without any rush or stress. This visit was unusual in that the baby, a 2 ½ year old boy, talked the whole time I was there. He’s always pretty friendly to me after the first 5 minutes or so, but this time he seemed to want me to hold him almost the whole time. It doesn’t take a child very long to read a person and I think he’s figured out that he’s got a sucker and he’s going to play it for all he’s worth. He wanted all the attention. We have a game we play. I try to get him to call me Granny, and he insists that my name is Sarah. He knows I’m not his Aunt Sarah and when he really wants something, he calls me Granny. But when asked my name, he will always say Sarah. He gets pretty firm about it too. Now the 5 year old wasn’t that impressed with Granny and bagels this morning until I asked him want he wanted for his birthday. He was busy with breakfast and wanting to get on the computer. But, the birthday question really started him going. He needs earth moving equipment. He finally settled on a Tonka crane. He’s always been fascinated by tractors, bull dozers, cement mixers. I remember when he was 3 making him upset because I called a front end loader a road grader. I got a 20 minute lecture on different heavy equipment right there. All the time he was telling me what he thought I should have already known, he had this look on his face that I’ve seen on his Poppy’s face when I’ve asked about cars or lawn tractors. The, “I’ll explain but she’ll never understand” look.
My 8 year old grandson who lives with us and his mother is the heart of this house.
In years past, his favorite game was bucking bull. I would lie on my bed and he would ride on my back while I tried to buck him off. At first it was fun but as he grew and gain weight and strength, it got pretty hard on Granny. So we’ve stopped that game. I’ve used the excuse of “Granny’s too old” to do certain things with the grandkids that they think I’m older then their great grandmother. My 8 year old grand daughter, when she was about 5, told her other grandmother, who is at least 15 years older than me, that I was very, very old and couldn’t do a lot of stuff. She said that I was even older than her Poppy. Now that’s old! (Poppy is only 18 months older than I am)
When our oldest grand daughter was born 12 ½ years ago, I really dreaded being a grandmother. I thought it would mean I was an “old lady”. The idea of some little child calling me Granny made me think of my own Granny, who was really old! I didn’t want to wear my hair in a bun or wear granny shoes. I didn’t want to wear my slacks up over my belly and just under my boobs like she did. I was way too young to be a granny. But it only took one time being called “Granny” by browneyedbailey to erase all negatives. I am Granny and pretty proud of it, and proud of all of them. I am growing older but grandkids keep me young. They have to be played with and spoiled as much as possible.
They have to be allowed to do whatever they want to do when they are with Granny unless it hurts them or one of the others. If they want coffee, I’ll make it. If they want candy, I don’t have to pay the dentist so why not. That’s my job and I pride myself on doing it pretty darn good.