Grandmotherhood

I was married two weeks after my 18th birthday, 19 when my first son was born, and 21 when my second came along. I was 35 when I had my third child, a daughter... the one out of three that was planned (though all were welcomed).

I thought I had anticipated all age-related problems on this third go-round, and by "all" I mean the only one that actually occured to me: the inevitable question, "Ahh, is this your granddaughter?"

Thankfully, that never happened.

What I had not anticipated was, twenty-some-odd years later, having my daughter and my first actual granddaughter pregnant at the same time, with my new granddaughter and my first great granddaughter being born only a month apart. Still with me?

Well, now I have enough grandkids and great grandkids that I can't keep names and birthdays straight, and family gatherings mean we settle for whoever we can get because we can never get everyone together under one roof at the same time anymore.

No problem. I wouldn't have enough matching dinner plates anyway and, being a Virgo, matching matters.

With my daughter being 32 now and her daughters almost 4, almost 6, and due in September, here is another problem I had not anticipated: Although I will probably be around long enough to tell my daughter, "Told you so" when her kids turn into teenagers, I may very well not be alive to see her become a grandmother!

I bring this up because she gives me a bad time when I tell her it's not my job to make the girls eat what's on their plate or go to bed at a sensible hour or put their toys away when they are at Gramma's house. And try as I may, I cannot convey to her why seeing the little ones once a week or maybe twice isn't enough for me! Three times a week might do it, but what has happened recently, which brings all this to mind, is that next week I am going to have to go the entire week without seeing them.

And what does she have to say about that? "Gee, a whole week? Think you'll survive?"

As if I were being unreasonable about this or something!

The girls just went home yesterday and I am already going into withdrawl. I'm trying to find an excuse to drive the thirty miles to their place. Ah! I found a white sock under the couch! But no, my daughter tells me when I call to ask permission to invade their privacy, the girls don't need that sock for the next week, they'll do just fine without it. Damn. Why didn't I accidentally forget to pack Annabella's glasses when I sent them home?

Well, if I were a lesser person I'd be hoping that when my daughter becomes a grandmother her grandchildren will all be living on the other side of the globe. But I love her too much to sink that low. When she becomes a grandmother I hope her daugher understands the urgency of time spent with the little ones -- who bring so much pleasure with their hugs and kisses and words of wisdom, and their exposing of family secrets like how their cousin got caught stealing money from their other grandmothers' purse!

Sadly, I probably won't be around when my daughter's turn comes to be a gramma. Or if I am, I will have forgotten why that seemed important to me, way back when. But if there is such a thing as reincarnation, I hope I come back as a fly on the wall. A FAST FLYING fly on the wall, and a silent, tiny, longliving one at that.