Long-distance grandparenting: The flip side of the coin

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On this blog and in real-life interactions I regularly whine, complain, hee-haw and boo-hoo about the role I've been given as a long-distance grandma. The fact my grandsons live 815 miles away is a challenge, a heartbreaker, and most definitely not the way I want things to be.

That being said, though—and clearly, perfectly, deeply understood by one and all, I hope, especially the one in charge of granting me time with my precious grandsons—the flip side of the long-distance-grandparenting coin is that I don't have to see my grandchildren on a daily basis, not even on a weekly basis.

Have to? Is that what you really meant?, I imagine some asking.

That's exactly what I meant. Because despite the visions of calm, cool, collected Grandma baking up cookies, tossing dice in another round of Chutes and Ladders, or giggling giddily as grandchildren gather at her knee for story time, playing grandma is hard work. It's exhausting, to be quite frank. And it circumvents anything and everything else this grandma—like any other grandma—has going on in her life.

When my grandsons visit, I struggle to get my work done—housework and office work. I'm fortunate that I work from home, although that does mean taking vacation days for visits with the grandchildren is impossible. So I fit in what I can, where I can, when we're together. Sure, loving on those beautiful boys is far more important than doing dishes, cleaning the cat box, vacuuming the floor and making beds. As sage advice recommends, those things can wait. Making a living, well, not so much. When there's an adorable youngster awaiting a hug, hike, dance party, story time, bath or any other activity that would surely warm my heart more than pounding out a few paragraphs, there's no doubt what wins out. Meaning having to choose between work and grandma play only every couple of months is a good thing—mostly for my bank account.

When I'm around the little ones, at my place or theirs, I also don't exercise as I should, don't read what I should, don't eat as I should. I definitely don't sleep as I should, either, because how can I waste minutes sleeping—or doing any of those other activities—when I could be savoring each and every second I have with the true loves of my life? I can't. And I don't. Another reason the long-distance thing is best for me, it seems, as it's all too easy to let anything and everything else slide while I slide, swing, sing, dance—live!—with my grandsons.

Many grandmas never have to consider such things because not all grandparents are long-distance grandparents. In fact, from my vantage point, it seems the majority are fortunate in that they have a more up-close-and-personal grandparenting experience than mine. I often hear the stories of grandparents who see their grandkids on a weekly basis, for school functions, fun visits, Saturday sleepovers, and Sunday dinners. Some serve as daycare—primary or backup—for the kiddos, spending most days of the week cooking, carpooling, catering to the grandkids. Playing and hugging and enjoying them, too, I have no doubt.

Those locally grown grandparents have different considerations, though. Or so I've heard. Things such as parents dropping by unannounced hoping Grandma and Grandpa can watch the kids for just a bit while they run errands, grocery shop, go to a movie, go to the doctor or dinner. I've also heard of local grandparents being unexpectedly expected to pitch in with childcare when a little one is sick and Mom and Dad absolutely cannot take another sick day at work—despite Grandma and Grandpa often having an outside job to attend, too. I've heard stories of simmering resentments, about lack of communication regarding boundaries, of inconsiderate connections. Sure, I'd love for my grandchildren to live locally, but such tales are ones I'm glad I don't know firsthand.

I'm also glad I don't know firsthand the challenges faced by those admirable grandparents who have taken on the role of parent, signing on to be primary caregiver of their grandchildren because of unforeseen circumstances that put them in that position, for better or for worse. They step up, they support, they discipline, they raise, and most of all, they see—and love—their grandchildren every single second of every single day.

I, on the other hand, see my grandsons about 35 days total in a year's time, broken into bite-sized visits of several days here and there every other month or so. Which amounts to basically 10 percent of my time spent in active grandma mode. That leaves 90 percent of my time spent in any other mode I choose, any and every mode unrelated to loving on little ones. I appreciate that time, appreciate that opportunity, appreciate the ability to focus on me things, me time.

Don't get me wrong: Those days that make up the 10 percent dedicated to grandparenting are the very best, the very brightest of my whole entire year. I wouldn't give them up for anything, and I continually clamor for more. I'm just thankful that not every single day, not every single week is equally shiny, for such brilliance would surely burn me out. Quickly.

And a burned-out grandma—much more so than a long-distance grandma—is a long, long way from the kind of grandma I want to be.

This post linked to Grandparents Say It Saturday.

Today's question:

What role takes up the biggest chunk of your days and what role do you wish took up the biggest chunk of your days?

Waiting

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WAITING

        Serene, I fold my hands and wait,
        Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;
        I rave no more 'gainst time or fate,
        For, lo! my own shall come to me.
         
        I stay my haste, I make delays,
        For what avails this eager pace?
        I stand amid the eternal ways,
        And what is mine shall know my face.
         
        Asleep, awake, by night or day,
        The friends I seek are seeking me;
        No wind can drive my bark astray,
        Nor change the tide of destiny.
         
        What matter if I stand alone?
        I wait with joy the coming years;
        My heart shall reap where it hath sown,
        And garner up its fruit of tears.
         
        The waters know their own and draw
        The brook that springs in yonder height;
        So flows the good with equal law
        Unto the soul of pure delight.
         
        The stars come nightly to the sky;
        The tidal wave unto the sea;
        Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
        Can keep my own away from me.

                               ~ John Burroughs (1837-1921)

Bubby, Baby Mac, and Megan will be here Sunday. I can't wait.

Yet, I have no choice but to do exactly that.

Today's fill-in-the-blank:

I can't wait for __________.

Of bloggers and babies

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Today begins the final countdown and prep work as I plan to take off for the two summer events I've most looked forward to. Well, beyond the early summer birth of Baby Mac, that is.

The first is BlogHer. In San Diego. With my friend and fellow blogger Heather from Jackadillo Princess. And three thousand other bloggers.

Heather and I leave Thursday morning and return Sunday night, and to say I'm excited about attending my first blog conference is truly an understatement. I'm also, though, quite anxious about the whole thing.

As I've noted before, I was once a shy young lass, and events such as this tend to cause me to revert to my lassie days and ways. Especially after learning that one of the features of the BlogHer conference is the "Serenity Suite," a "safe place" where attendees can escape the overwhelming crowds and relax. And vent to one of the caring bloggers taking turns hosting the suite, if you're in meltdown mode, overcome by the exhilaration of real-life interaction with one another. And the snarkiness that can accompany the real-life interaction of 3,000 (mostly female) bloggers vying for the attentions of one another as well as big-time potential blog sponsors and advertisers.

The idea that a Serenity Suite is necessary scares me a bit. But I'm hoping to have no need for it except to possibly put my feet up after walking the Expo Hall or partying down at one of the bajillions of parties planned for the duration.

I'm also hoping any negativity will be outweighed by the positive force that can be when a massive and dynamic group of women join together to support one another in something which we are all passionate—blogging.

Mostly, though, I'm hoping to come away with awesome ideas for taking Grandma's Briefs to the next level, ideas to bring back and share with you, ideas for you. Which is along with all the parties and the swag I'll nab the main reason this introvert is willing to pretend to be an extrovert for a few days anyway. Wish me luck.

While BlogHer is a definitely a high point of my summer, the event taking place just a few days after my return from it is the true blue highlight of the sweltering season for me: a trip to the desert (and its sweltering heat) to once again see Bubby and Baby Mac!

For six whole days I get to drop the "long-distance" qualifier from my name and be a real-and-in-person (and in charge) grandma to my grandsons while Megan and Preston head off to a resort to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary. I'm packing my Grandma Bag, lining up activities, and making sure my camera battery is fully charged.

When it comes to the visit with my babies, though, if I'm wore out after crafts and cuddles, marathon storytimes, bathtimes for both, and chasing Bubby round and round while playing policeman to his fireman, I'll have no need for a substitute Serenity Suite. No, I'll just plop down in the rocking chair, situate one grandson in my arms and another by my side, and we'll rock away to our heart's content—a serenity so sweet on its own.

Today's question:

What are you planning and/or preparing for this week?

Noise, toys, and the boys who love them

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I like to give Bubby a gift each time I see him. As a long-distance grandma who visits with her grandson only a handful of times a year, I don't consider this spoiling him. Plus, the gifts are usually something small, like a book or Hot Wheels car to add to his collections.

Last time I saw Bubby, I also saw Mac for the first time. Which meant bearing gifts for two grandsons for the first time. In light of the occasion, I went a wee bit larger on the gifts.

Bubby's "big-brother gift" was a few hats: a fireman hat, a policeman hat, and a Woody from Toy Story cowboy hat (part of a review costume you can read about HERE, with awesome pics of Cowboy Bubby).

The fireman hat was Bubby's favorite. Not only because firetrucks and the folks who drive them are his favorite people in the world, but because with the flip of a button it made noise. Lots of noise.

Mac's "baby-brother gift" was a more quiet affair: a tummy time mat. It was the only item Megan requested for her newborn as she still had all things baby boy remaining from Bubby.

Yes, Baby Mac is using his tummy-time mat inappropriately here, not on his tummy at all. But we let it slide this time, considering he's just a baby and all.

Both boys seemed content with the toys I gave them. As I went through the 700-plus photos I took during my visit, I came across this video that underscores that. It was meant to be just of Mac making the most of tummy time but inadvertently shows Bubby making the most of his gift from Gramma, too:

I'll be visiting my grandsons again next month (woo-hoo!) and am already considering what gifts I'll bring them. I have one in mind that I think both boys will like, one they can share.

One that is silent.

For Baby Mac's sake.

And for Megan's and Preston's ... to make up for the fireman hat.

Today's question:

How do you feel about toys that make noise?

Playing around

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There were all kinds of awesome things about my visit to see my grandsons in the desert. One of those low on the list of greatness but still quite cool was having the time to play around with my iPhone camera. And the iPhone apps that include cameras. And camera effects.

Here are a few of my favorites taken with my iPhone during the visit:

 

I love my iPhone and the oh-so cool photos it can take.

Of course, without the oh-so cool subjects, those photos wouldn't be nearly as interesting. Or cool. At least not to me.

Today's question:

When was the last time you had photos printed, not just saved as digital files?

Next time

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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?