Grammas Rule!

My sister raised a couple of her grandchildren, as many grandparents do these days, sad to say. She had to, more or less, be a mother to them. My grandchildren visit me. I get to be their gramma.

Their mother has to make sure they eat what's put in front of them. That's part of her job. At our house, however, we've determined it is not our job to force food down their adorable little throats. So we say, "If you don't want it, you don't have to eat it." (Which only works when Mom isn't here. Even at our house, if Mom's here, we live by her rules. As soon as she walks out the door, however, the girls do a little end zone dance and chant, "Gramma's rules, Gramma's rules!")

They never have to go to bed at bedtime, for example. They play on the floor while Gramma and Grampa watch "grown up TV" (news shows, documentaries, etc.). When they get sleepy, they climb up beside us in their nighties, wrap themselves into our arms, close their eyes and go to sleep. When we go to bed we take them with us. They wake up still wrapped in our arms. In the morning when one of them says, "I'm ready to get up," one of us says, "Okay but it'll cost ya!" They pay with hugs and kisses, then we get our butts (I mean bottoms) out of bed.

We never babysit. The girls visit us. They are our guests, and we treat them well. We sit and make a list together of all the things we want to do while they're here. For example: Play on the swings and monkey bars. Go to the ranch to ride Brandi. Take flowers to Gramma Sarah. Shop for fun snack foods. Shop for something new at Toys R Us. Toss Barbie Dolls into the pool and rescue them with a net. Bake Brownies.

We bake the Brownies first thing in the morning, and have them (warm) for breakfast. The egg cracked into the batter provides protein. When the brownies are dipped into a little bowl of whip cream with each bite, you have your dairy product. Add a bright red maraschino cherry for fruit, and what do you end up with? A balanced meal!

On their most recent visit I transgressed and unthinkingly made tuna sandwiches for lunch. They took a few bites, and the almost-six-year-old said, "Uhhh, Gramma? I'm sorry to tell you this, but I don't actually care for tuna." I believe such nice manners should be rewarded, so I invoked Gramma's rule: If you don't like it, you don't have to eat it.

"Let me see what I can come up with that you might like, " I said. I sliced cheese, arranged it on a plate with sliced salami and sliced dill pickles. Meat, dairy, vegetable -- see how this works? The finishing touch? Decaffeinated Arizona iced tea to wash it down, served in a grown up glass because if it gets spilled, so what? Wipe it up! That's what paper towels are for! :-)

The girls enjoy having choices, too. We ask them what they'd like to do for dinner. Drive through? Help cook? Go to a restaurant? They love shrimp no matter how it's fixed, and will eat cole slaw like it's ice cream. I believe this proves that our body lets us know what we need in order to be well nourished. It all works out...

They don't have to put their toys away at our house, or play with them in just one room. By the time the girls go home, there are toys everywhere. It helps us maintain our dexterity when we have to step carefully over, around and through books, dress up clothes, colorful contraptions that stimulate their little minds, and so on. Picking everything up and putting it away when the girls are gone helps us with our flexibility and burning calories. How can it get any better than that?

Some grandparents, I'm told, tell their adult children, "I raised my kids, you raise yours!" Not me. I say about my grandkids, "Bring 'em on!" Time with your grand kids is like tequila in a Margarita -- there's no such thing as "too much!"

Gramma's Rules is one way of putting it. Another way is: Grammas RULE!