A Tribute to Grandmothers

Let’s just take a moment to pay tribute to grandmothers. As our mothers, we maybe didn’t like them so much.

The ultimate in grandmothers, the GREAT grandmother and my daughter throwing in the bunny ears

The ultimate in grandmothers, the GREAT grandmother and my daughter throwing in the bunny ears

We argued and disputed and tried real hard to do whatever it was they didn’t want us to do (yes, we knew it then, too but wouldn’t admit it…what?! We get that from YOU) BUT, as grandmothers, these are the women who come through for us.

Who else would go to the store for you for one banana?

Who else would offer to wash baby clothes for you (even though you have a perfectly acceptable washer and dryer)?

Who else would let your children finger paint (certainly not you in your dining room…)?

Who else makes Halloween costumes the day before Halloween?

Who else bakes cakes when you forget?

Who else can show up at a moment’s  notice with a fully cooked pot roast when you lamented to only having frozen pizza because you forgot to plug in the crockpot…again.

Who else makes silly putty from glue and Borax?

Who else can pick up your kid from school early for a doctor’s appointment you forgot about?

And who else will accept an overtired baby for the day when you have to go to work?


Grammas let granddaughters help make perogies.

Grammas let granddaughters help make perogies.

At first, I thought becoming a grandparent made these people who I used to know as my parents a little crazy (ok I still believe that…ahem, mother-in-law feeding granddaughter cereal while she sat ON the potty…) but it also makes them wholly devoted to a new little human in a very special way. My husband often retorts: “this is not the woman who raised me” when he sees his mother allowing her grandchildren to do things HE was NEVER allowed to do as a kid. But becoming a grandparent probably means something went right along the way. You managed to see your own children through enough of their life that they were able to go out and reward you with….more children. It’s a strange cycle. Is it that you get to send them home again? That they love you no matter what and it’s OK if you feed them Happy Meals every day for a week because ultimately it’s not your fault if they’re messed up when they get older?  Is it because you get to see your own children flounder aimless and at times, humorously, through parenthood?

Grammas rock babies like it's their job...wait, it kind of is.

Grammas rock babies like it’s their job…wait, it kind of is.

Regardless of the reason, being a grandparent looks like a pretty awesome gig. I’m sure I will become one, someday. My daughter informed me awhile ago she’d have 6 children, but no husband because “that would be TOO much to take care of, so no husband for me…” I refrained from commenting.