Is being a grandparent really better than being a parent? After recently becoming a grandparent, I have pondered what it means, and if it is true what most of them say, that they would have done it first if only they had known the joy it would bring.
Grandparents can be wonderful teachers. My paternal Momo and Pawpaw taught me about getting up before the sun, about milking the cow and feeding the chickens. Papaw showed me how to open his lunch pail when he came home from work because he had saved me a cookie. Momo showed me how to slide down the cellar door, how to climb up to the loft in the barn and swing down on the rope, and that dogs love cornbread. My maternal grandmother taught me how to catch tadpoles in her pond, and let me help her make sour pickles and raisin pies.
According to my friends and siblings who already have grandchildren, the joy in being a grandparent is surpassed only by the actual day of the birth of their children. They seem to forget the interim years when their child surely brought them loads of happiness, and fast-forward to the time when their grandchild made his appearance.
My best friend said that the second she set eyes on her newborn grandson, she was lost forever. She had no idea beforehand that she would instantly fall in love with this little fellow, and the emotions it stirred so overwhelmed her that she wept uncontrollably until she began to laugh hysterically. Her family was worried that she would have to be given her own room at the hospital, although in a different ward.
My sister is deserving of recognition in the Grandmother Hall of Fame. She is selfless, is captivated by her grandchildren, and always puts their needs first. When she went through chemotherapy and lost her hair, she was concerned that her three grandchildren would be frightened by her baldness. The first time they were at her house after her hair loss, although she was weak and miserable, she made a game out of pulling off her wig and singing a little song that she had made up about a bald eagle. They laughed, and learned the song so they could sing along with her. They never questioned or showed fear of the changes in their grammie.
Grandparents can be wonderful teachers. My paternal Momo and Pawpaw taught me about getting up before the sun, about milking the cow and feeding the chickens. Papaw showed me how to open his lunch pail when he came home from work because he had saved me a cookie. Momo showed me how to slide down the cellar door, how to climb up to the loft in the barn and swing down on the rope, and that dogs love cornbread. My maternal grandmother taught me how to catch tadpoles in her pond, and let me help her make sour pickles and raisin pies.
According to my friends and siblings who already have grandchildren, the joy in being a grandparent is surpassed only by the actual day of the birth of their children. They seem to forget the interim years when their child surely brought them loads of happiness, and fast-forward to the time when their grandchild made his appearance.
My best friend said that the second she set eyes on her newborn grandson, she was lost forever. She had no idea beforehand that she would instantly fall in love with this little fellow, and the emotions it stirred so overwhelmed her that she wept uncontrollably until she began to laugh hysterically. Her family was worried that she would have to be given her own room at the hospital, although in a different ward.
My sister is deserving of recognition in the Grandmother Hall of Fame. She is selfless, is captivated by her grandchildren, and always puts their needs first. When she went through chemotherapy and lost her hair, she was concerned that her three grandchildren would be frightened by her baldness. The first time they were at her house after her hair loss, although she was weak and miserable, she made a game out of pulling off her wig and singing a little song that she had made up about a bald eagle. They laughed, and learned the song so they could sing along with her. They never questioned or showed fear of the changes in their grammie.
From watching my own mother with her grandchildren, as well as my observations of other grandparents, I have found that there is always time to bake sugar cookies, letting the child roll out the dough to cut cookies in the shape of his hands. There is always time to go outside and pick up hickory nuts the squirrels have chewed holes in, and dried leaves and sticks and flowers so you can glue them onto a glass jar and make a special vase. There is always time for lying on the floor together to watch The Incredibles for the hundredth time. There is always time for a bedtime story. And there is never enough time to hold them close and breathe in every second that you are blessed enough to spend with this wonderfully made child.
I have also seen that being a grandparent can have disadvantages. You do not get to pick out the name that your grandchild will call you. With countless websites dedicated to grandmother and grandfather nicknames, you may pick one or have a name you prefer, but the child will decide in the end the name that you will be called henceforth.
You may have to stand by silently while the little object of your affection is disciplined by his parent in a way that would have been perfectly acceptable when he was a child, but is cruel and unusual punishment when being used on your grandchild.
You will have to let him go home with his parents after weekends or summer visits. And eventually, he will be old enough that coming to your house is no longer his favorite place to go and you will have to schedule visits around his parties and girlfriends and school activities, and be thankful for an occasional telephone call.
You will watch your son or daughter go through the hell of their child’s teen years, as they struggle to win the battle of wills while their once sweet, precious child becomes an unrecognizable master of tyranny. You will have to, with great effort, keep your advice to yourself unless it is asked of you, and even then, temper it with gentle suggestions instead of iron-clad edicts.
You will be there to cry along with your child as he watches his son or daughter promise to love ever after, and sends them forth to begin the process all over again.
Perhaps being a grandparent means that you have the chance for a do-over. Every parent has regrets about the job he or she did in raising their child. There are countless ways we can second-guess ourselves about the things we did wrong, remembering the times we needlessly punished, or said “no” when “yes” would have been all right, or swept the floor when we could have been outside gathering those hickory nuts and flowers with him. With a grandchild, the slate is wiped clean and we can be certain that we will not make the same mistakes again. We can hopefully make many happy memories that he will share with his children someday.
I have also seen that being a grandparent can have disadvantages. You do not get to pick out the name that your grandchild will call you. With countless websites dedicated to grandmother and grandfather nicknames, you may pick one or have a name you prefer, but the child will decide in the end the name that you will be called henceforth.
You may have to stand by silently while the little object of your affection is disciplined by his parent in a way that would have been perfectly acceptable when he was a child, but is cruel and unusual punishment when being used on your grandchild.
You will have to let him go home with his parents after weekends or summer visits. And eventually, he will be old enough that coming to your house is no longer his favorite place to go and you will have to schedule visits around his parties and girlfriends and school activities, and be thankful for an occasional telephone call.
You will watch your son or daughter go through the hell of their child’s teen years, as they struggle to win the battle of wills while their once sweet, precious child becomes an unrecognizable master of tyranny. You will have to, with great effort, keep your advice to yourself unless it is asked of you, and even then, temper it with gentle suggestions instead of iron-clad edicts.
You will be there to cry along with your child as he watches his son or daughter promise to love ever after, and sends them forth to begin the process all over again.
Perhaps being a grandparent means that you have the chance for a do-over. Every parent has regrets about the job he or she did in raising their child. There are countless ways we can second-guess ourselves about the things we did wrong, remembering the times we needlessly punished, or said “no” when “yes” would have been all right, or swept the floor when we could have been outside gathering those hickory nuts and flowers with him. With a grandchild, the slate is wiped clean and we can be certain that we will not make the same mistakes again. We can hopefully make many happy memories that he will share with his children someday.
As my husband and I take advantage of our second chance, we will learn while we are teaching. We will learn how to be heroes by fearlessly looking in closets and under beds to show him there are no monsters. We will learn to be conquerors by building a blanket fort and vanquishing the enemy with plastic swords. We will learn to be actors when he has scraped his knee or cut his finger and we want to cry with him, but do not.
And we will teach him many things. He will learn that he is loved beyond all measure. We will teach him that he, the same as his dad, is the center of our universe. Later on we will teach him how to make cookies in the shape of his hand, how to make a special vase using leaves, sticks and hickory nuts, that tadpoles are squishy and hard to catch, that you have to watch out for the nail holes in the cellar door, and that dogs really do love cornbread.
And we will teach him many things. He will learn that he is loved beyond all measure. We will teach him that he, the same as his dad, is the center of our universe. Later on we will teach him how to make cookies in the shape of his hand, how to make a special vase using leaves, sticks and hickory nuts, that tadpoles are squishy and hard to catch, that you have to watch out for the nail holes in the cellar door, and that dogs really do love cornbread.
