Becoming a grandma

My first grandchild arrived when I was 63. I've always been a late bloomer. Mr. Adorable was a long-awaited addition to the family. He was born in California - far away from Grandma - and regular treks to visit him became part of my life.

The first time I held him, he was about a week old. I felt like I'd always known him. Even now, I understand him deeply. We are pals. We weave together, bake together, play and shop together. We speak the same language (wowzeronie is a perfectly acceptable word). He now lives in Canada - closer to Grandma - and regular visits are part of our lives. He's old enough to stay here without his mom and dad being here, too.

Being a grandparent can be a tricky dance. I am not in charge of his parenting. I don't make decisions about whether he eats gluten, dairy, sugar, etc. Those decisions are up to his parents. My role is to support their decisions, respect their right to choose, and act accordingly on their behalf when they are not present. When you stay at Grandma's house, you don't get candy or all-you-can-eat pizza. You can't spend the day watching TV. You do your chores, just like at home, and behave respectfully. I am generous with gifts, but sometimes they are socks.

Grandbaby two arrived this spring, and lives six minutes away from me. Luxury! I can see her just about anytime I want. It is lovely to watch her mom and dad experience being parents for the first time, and to be part of her regular routine.

The parents of both these adorable kids are happy to have me in their lives, for which I am most grateful. I know that many people don't have the joy of grandchildren, or live too far apart to be engaged in their lives. If I didn't have grandchildren, I'd have to borrow some. Seeing the world through the eyes of a child, introducing them to new experiences and sharing my stories and wisdom is deeply satisfying and enriches my life immensely.

Grandbaby three is due this fall. I'm already excited about getting to know him.