I’m the grandmother of four teenage grandchildren. I’m having a wonderful time watching them explore the ins and outs of high school and college. I feel I still have a great connection with them as I try to keep myself “hip and very with it.” Ha! The last sentence actually just made me laugh out loud, as it screamed my Medicare status.
I am quite confident they feel differently about my “hipness” but are too polite to tell me…at least to my face. I know the kids are constantly changing, and I’m finding out I want to do the same. I don’t want to be like them, or their friend, but I want to understand them.
I am certainly not perfect, nor as hip as I think I am, but I do want to work on always improving my grandmotherly techniques. Sometimes I’m successful, and sometimes not so much.
Here Comes Hip Grandma…
I had a bit of a setback last week. My sister-in-law, their daughter, her husband and two children came to visit us from Dallas. My sister-in-law’s grandchildren are aged one and three. It has been 14 years since I’ve spent some quality time with a one-year-old, but I love kids and knew we would have a wonderful time during our extended family’s stay. I was confident my hipness would carry me over the age gap with our grandkids and the little ones who were visiting us.
We did have a wonderful time, but it was not quite like the visit I had envisioned. Things revolving around one-year-olds and three-year-olds have changed, but I also realized I have also changed and maybe not for the better.
The weather in Lincoln was perfect, and I was hoping the kids could play outside. Over the years, we’ve collected balls, bats and gloves, so I was ready for anything. We don’t have a large house and yard, but our yard is larger than our Texas family’s yards. The houses in Dallas are huge, expensive, close together and have limited green space.
The three-year-old looked at our modest backyard and screamed to his mom, “Mommy, they have a park! This is a pretty park. Can I play in the park?” We all thought the comments were pretty cute, so we played ball for over an hour in the Becker “park.” We have a small field, so there were even some home runs!
Quiet time for the three-year-old was playing on his own iPad. I soon realized quiet time just means quiet time, not naps. No TV, just the iPad. The apps he used were amazing. Matching games, puzzles, and counting and letter practice were just a few.
I’ve been used to seeing our grandkids with their phones playing games, but I was blown away by the dexterity and focus of this three-year-old boy. I should have given him my new MacBook Air and had him download a couple of apps for me. If he would have completed the download, would I have been amazed or humiliated? Not sure which one it would have been.
I tried to be a good aunt and great aunt during their visit by helping out with our grandnephews as best I could. Carrying, feeding, cleaning, cooking—I was up for anything and everything. However, let me just say, poop happens…and happens…and happens.
And Then It Happened…
I was in my entertaining mode, which includes reading, bouncing, laughing, blowing raspberries on bellies—you name it, I did it. I was trying to allow our niece a bit of peace and quiet (She was probably playing games on her phone). And then…diarrhea.
I know the first thing to think about was the baby, but I was a very close second. While I changed the baby, the smell of human waste filled my nostrils with that memory scent from years ago when our kids and grandkids were babies.
I cleaned the baby and rinsed out his shorts and shirt. Oh my goodness. My gag reflex wanted to kick in. Thank goodness I rallied, but it was a close call. Then, it was time for me to clean myself. We all survived and returned to play time. That was a bad call. Yep, we went through another cycle of the entire experience.
Lesson learned for this grandma. That’s for certain!
So I thought I was pretty hip when the week began, but our visitors from Texas reminded me I shouldn’t get too cocky about being a model grandma. I realized it’s tough to be hip when you have poop on your pant legs three times in one day.
Hip? I’m giving that word up.
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Grandkids & Grandparents
I have four grandchildren ages 14-17. In some ways, I’m a very typical grandma, always proud of everything the kids do and wanting to help support them in whatever way I can. In other ways, I’m not very typical. My goal as a blogger is to share my thoughts and experiences that I think are funny and meaningful as I adventure through grandmahood.