Good friends of ours just announced that they are going to be grandparents for the first time. I remember when Bekah told me she was pregnant. I didn’t have a clue what was about to happen – but it’s not like anything I could have imagined.
My grandmother used to say that grandchildren and grandparents have a special bond because they have a mutual enemy. Now that is a little strong, but I have to say that there is definitely a special relationship that we have.
I have four granddaughters: Drew, Hazel, Ruby, and Evie; two step-grandchildren: Ally and Jake; and two more on their way (one is a girl, and I’m guessing the odds are that the other one is too).
Now when I first found out I was going to be a grandmother, I went through the whole mental freakout about being too young to be a grandmother – somehow my image of myself shifted from being a semi-hip 50ish woman to someone more closely related to Mamie Eisenhower. I vowed never to wear those stupid grandma shoes and to always be cool – as one of my students calls it – a “glamma.”
Turned out that the g-babies couldn’t care less. They think I’m young (I asked them how old they thought I was and they said 7), cool because I let them drink “sparkle water” for breakfast, and semi-hip because I took them to their first drive-in movie.
So far they don’t care what I wear as long as I can hike up mountains and go down the “big slide” at the hot springs.
They constantly entertain me, even though half the time they are a bazillion miles away. Just a picture of their shenanigans is enough to make my day.
Maybe it’s because I don’t have the day-to-day worries of parenting or maybe it’s because somewhere between their parents and them I figured out that if I relaxed it would be so much better.
Whatever it is, my friends Kris and Bruce are in for a treat.
I must go and chill the sparkle water, the g-babies are coming for a visit tomorrow.