Now I'm a believer

Surprise! I do love Mac. More than I thought I would.

Despite many a grandparent telling me it would happen, that I would fall in love with the second grandchild as easily as the first, I didn't really believe it.

Despite having written a post — and recently re-publishing that post — about how my heart grew with each additional child I birthed, I didn't really believe it.

No, I didn't believe it. I love Bubby beyond words and I couldn't imagine lightning striking twice and feeling such a way for another child.

Silently worrying that I might be flawed and not have the proper grandma gene or that I may have missed out on some elite grandma training, either rendering me unable to automatically love and adore the second, I took the advice, the words of wisdom — from others and from myself — in stride. I didn't really believe it. I figured I'd just keep it hush-hush once I met Mac and confirmed that he didn't rock my world the way Bubby did.

 

But rock it he did. And after only a day or so with him, the tremors courtesy of Baby Mac become full-blown heart movers and shakers.

I didn't cry when I first set eyes on Mac, as I did with Bubby. Yet my heart did a whoop-de-doo or two upon seeing his adorable bowed lips, chubby cheeks, long legs and round little fuzz-covered head. It was upon holding him that the tremors began ... and intensified with each cuddle, each cry, each tiny grip of his fingers around mine.

Sure, Mac likes to eat. A lot. Which worked in my favor during my visit. Megan supplements nursing with bottles, so Mac's hearty appetite provided me plenty of opportunities to bond with him over bottles.  

And, yes, Mac is responsible for the very worst-ever diaper-changing episode endured by this grandma. Worst. Ever. But his relieved face with bright eyes focusing on light play on the ceiling as I changed him — three times in a row in one visit to the changing table — plus his soft coos upon finally being cleaned up led to more bonding, not cussing.

  

Then there were his grunts and groans. Not during diaper fillings but during his sleep...while I or anyone else held him. Just like this:

Hearing such baby noises was the final straw, the act that fondly and firmly cemented Mac's place in my heart. Right next to Bubby's place.

Equal to Bubby's place.

I admit it, fellow grandmas and grandpas: You were right. I can love the second grandchild just as much as the first. More importantly, I do love my second grandchild as much as the first.

Now I'm a believer!

And a real grandma after all.

Today's question:

Do you grunt, er, snore in your sleep?

Meeting Mac

Yesterday, Bubby introduced me to his baby brother.

My heart is now full.

Today's question:

Whom did you most recently meet for the first time?

Ripple effect

One of the questions I regularly ask the Grilled Grandmas is "What do you most want to pass along to your grandchildren?". I'm continually impressed by their thoughtful answers because in considering that question myself, I find it difficult to narrow it down, to sum up in a few words what I want the sons and daughters of my daughters to have and to do and to be.

I want to pass along to my grandchildren so many things, some that I have, some that I don't, some that I wish I had mastered.

I want to pass along the traits of faithfulness and thankfulness. I want them to know they’re loved and worthy and important. I want them to have memories of incredible moments and the motivation to create more. I want to pass along a love for themselves as well as a love for others, regardless of how alike or different others may be. I want to pass along the desire — and the ability — to make the most of the gifts they have been given.

I want to pass along to my grandchildren all that and more. Ultimately, though, what I most want to pass along to my grandchildren is life and all the beauty and blessings and potential wrapped up in that. I want them — my extended family — to be and to continue to be. To continue the family line, the family tree. I cringe at the idea that everything Jim and I put into the family we’ve created could have ended with our most immediate progeny. No, I want our family tree to have strong roots and abundant shoots going forward, and for those roots and shoots to make a difference in the world.

I want the lives of my children, my grandchildren, my great-grandchildren and so on to matter and make a difference in the world, partially to better themselves, to better the world around them. But in all honesty — and in all selfish realization — I also want those things partially so my life will have mattered, to know that I made a difference.

I have no illusions that I’ve shaken the world up in any way. I do believe, though, that through my children and their children and their children, my jiggles and jerks from beginning to end have had and will continue to have a ripple effect. My words, my actions, my love have touched my children, who then have gone out into the world and touched others with their words, actions, love. Then the ripples continue as those touched in turn touch others, matter to others, make a difference to others. My ripples grow larger, wider, eternal. That won’t happen if the family doesn’t continue, if life is not passed down, again and again and again.

Yes, I want to pass along love, independence, fortitude, passion, compassion, sympathy, empathy and more. Those are the things of life, of living. For better or for worse, those are intertwined with pain, heartache, fear, longing, loss — life’s unsavory bits that make what's on the other side of the coin all the more sweet and appreciated and worth every utterance of gratitude and thanks.

So, regardless of reason, justification, or explanation, when I truly consider what I want to pass along to my grandchildren, the bottom line is this: I most want to pass down to them life and the gumption to make their fair share of ripples — possibly even a big splash now and then, too — with that life.

Photo: stock.xchng/biewoef

Today's question:

Whose ripples from the past continue to impact your present?

Next time

I'm over the moon with happiness and thankfulness that Mac arrived safe and sound yesterday. But I gotta admit, there's a fair tinge of sadness attached to my joy.

As a long-distance grandma who respected the request from Megan and Preston for neither of their moms to come right away ("to make it fair"), I won't be seeing, touching, holding Mac until he's three weeks old. And I won't get to witness Bubby's first few days of getting used to his new brother, or help out my daughter and her little family as they get through the first few days or weeks of the transition from a family of three to a family of four.

And that makes me sad. Even though I'm so happy.

Next time will be different, though.

Next time, I will ignore the request not to come right around the birth date. It worked for the other grandma, who gets to hug and hold new baby Mac one day after his birth. And occupy Bubby while my daughter heals. And cook and clean for the family. And help Mommy and Daddy get the hang of having a second child.

Yep, next time will be different.

Although, now that I think of it, the next time I'm blessed with another grandchild, the grandchild just might come from a different daughter. Not from Megan in the desert, but from a daughter who lives nearby. Maybe?

Which surely would make next time different.

Seriously and sincerely, I'm absolutely not rushing or coercing or trying to convince a daughter it's time for that, as it's clearly not time for either of my two other daughters. But still. One of them just might soon find it is time and just might be the next.

Either way, next time will indeed be different.

As far as this time is concerned, though, I'll focus on finding contentment and being truly, madly, deeply thankful, grateful, and happy about my new and healthy Baby Mac.

Even though I am a little sad.

Today's question:

I know of at least one person who will "tsk" and say I'm looking at the glass half-empty; I say I'm just being honest. Do you consider yourself a glass half-empty or a glass half-full kind of person?

Giggling and grilling

I believe I've mentioned that I'm not really much of an LOL person, especially when reading things on the computer. I may snicker or smile, but LOLs are rare.

Every once in a while, though, I truly do LOL. This week's Grilled Grandma, Maryann, made me do just that with her response to my prompt of, "Describe a recent time when one (or more) of your grandchildren made you laugh out loud."

Here's what she said:

My grandchildren are always saying or doing something that makes me laugh. Most recently, while in church for Easter, my 3-year-old grandson was listening to the pastor speak about Jesus (this surprised us that he WAS listening!). The Pastor mentioned that Jesus died for our sins. My youngest grandson turned to his mother and shouted, "Jesus DIED???!!! When did THAT happen??" Of course, we were all trying to stop from laughing out loud. 

LOLs all around, for sure!

You'll find more to laugh about — plus some other awful sweet sentiments — in Grilled Grandma: Maryann. Please check it out and pass along some comment love to this delightful grandma.

Today's question:

Certain people in my life do make me LOL each and every time I'm around them. Who in your life most often makes you LOL?

Guest post: Grandparents can be fun AND consistent

“Mommy lets me stay up late”: How you can have fun and be consistent as a grandparent

by Mary Albert

Grandparenting is a lot of fun. I have a great time with my grandchildren when they come to visit, no matter what we end up doing. Even a lazy day around the house becomes much more entertaining when you’ve got kids to keep you busy.

I struggled, at first, because I didn’t know the rules and etiquette of being a grandparent. I have learned a few things, though, and it has made a world of difference.

I guarantee the first time that I kept my oldest grandson, David, overnight he was old enough to pull the ‘but Mommy lets me’ routine, and I was gullible enough to fall for it. I wanted to be fun, after all, and I didn’t realize that it was a bad thing. I learned quickly that this is NOT the way to do things.

You have to be consistent and make sure that you follow the rules that the parents have set forth. Not only was David not allowed to stay up past 8:00 on Fridays (he was 7 at the time), but there were other rules I accidentally broke during that visit as well. There wasn’t any permanent damage, but I did create a little tension with my daughter that could have been avoided.

You’re a grandparent and it’s supposed to be fun. However, kids need structure and they need to respect you. If you give into their every whim and don’t follow the rules that their parents have, you’re going to create a difficult situation for yourself and the kids.

I still give my grandkids cookies before dinner and take them to get ice cream for no reason at all, but I do try to follow the basic rules that my daughters have set out for them so that I don’t get the kids too spoiled.

Trust me; it’s better to be a fun grandparent that follows the rules than to have grandkids who are too spoiled to really appreciate your time together.

Mary Albert is a blogger for a senior lifestyle web site that provides advice for the 55+ age group as well as information on medical alert systems.

Photo: stock.xchng

Today's question:

What rule(s) do you break on a regular basis, with grandkids or otherwise?

OUT: e-mail, IN: Grandma mail

This time last year, crafty grandmas were posting photos and directions for the festive little Valentine's Day mailboxes they'd created for their grandchildren. The marvy mailboxes posted by Nina and Kathy were exactly what I needed for Bubby -- a Grandma Mail box for all the goodies to come from his long-distance grandma year-round, not just for Valentine's Day.

But I was late to the crafty grandma game. I searched high and low for the little white tin boxes. At Michaels, Joann's, Hobby Lobby, and the dollar bin at Target (where others mentioned finding theirs). No little white boxes anywhere.

So I purchased one of the sturdy formed-paper ones from Hobby Lobby, along with cute stickers of things of interest to Bubby, and I made my own Grandma Mail box just for Bubby. It turned out cute -- despite it feeling a teensy bit to me like the Grandma Mail box version of Eddie Murphy's 'house burgers'. One good thing about my version was that it was larger than the little white boxes the on-top-of-things grandmas had used, which would be ideal for the larger envelopes and small packages I planned to send to Megan to pass along to Bubby, lifting the little red flag to announce mail from Gramma had arrived.

Bubby, though, found the larger size perfect for packing the thing full with his cars and trucks and carrying it around the house. And because he loved doing so so much, Megan let him. And the Grandma Mail box -- being made of "sturdy" paper -- turned out not to be so sturdy after all. So much for that.

Well, it just so happened I was in Target the other day and -- glory be! -- the dollar bins beckoned, as they were filled to the brim with the little white tin boxes with red plastic flags, red ones, too. I wouldn't miss out this year! Halleluiah!

I brought it home, adorned it for Bubby, and this, friends and fellow grandmas, was included in the Grandma Bag I toted to the desert with me this week: 

It's adorned inside and out with stickers of things near and dear to Bubby's heart: trucks and emergency vehicles! There's his name on the other side, "Love, Gramma" on the bottom, and the little red flag to announce when mail has arrived from Gramma (placed there by Megan, of course; when the mail is too large, Bubby will find a "Notification of Package" form directing him to see Mommy to pick up the real thing).

This year I was prepared. I thought ahead. And when I say I thought ahead, I mean I really thought ahead: I wanted Birdy to have a Grandma Mail box, too, so I bought one for him, to be decorated later.

But I didn't stop there. Determined to not be caught without a box again, I bought several -- so each and every one of my grandkids to come will have a Grandma Mail box:

Eight should be enough. Megan and Preston plan to have three or four kids and the rest should cover Brianna and Andrea's kiddos. Forget that Brianna is nowhere near ready to have children yet and that Andrea swears she never will have children. Ya just never know.

As a former Girl Scout leader, the motto I once drilled into the heads of my little Daisies and Brownies has now become my Grandma Motto: Be Prepared!

I'm pretty sure I am prepared now. At least when it comes to Grandma Mail boxes!

Today's question:

What's the best thing you recently received in the mail -- USPS mail, not e-mail?