Gimme an "M"

During my visit with Bubby, he made it quite clear that he'd aced the child development stage related to object permanance: He knows an object exists even though he can't see it.

And when it comes to some of his favorite objects, Bubby dramatically expresses his sadness that his beloved this or that is existing somewhere other than right there by his side. Be it a toy, animal or loved one, Bubby lowers his head, scrunches his eyes ever so slightly and in the saddest of voices says "buh-bye."

For example, when he misses his best buddy, it's "Ro Ro buh-bye."

When the bunny outside his window decides to hippity hop behind the bush, it's "Bunny buh-bye."

After the garbage truck empties the curbside cans and heads on its way, it's "Truck buh-bye."

And when Megan and Preston left for their trip and Bubby was left with Grandma, it was "Mommy buh-bye. Daddy buh-bye."

All said in a sad tone, all sounding like the poor kid has had his heart broken.

Bubby was sleeping when I kissed him goodbye at the airport, so there wasn't true closure at our departure. One minute I was there, then I was gone. Megan told me that once home, Bubby clearly felt my absence and let everyone know, using his typical, sad "buh-bye." Even his daycare provider told Megan that the next day, Bubby moped around and when asked what was bothering him, he let her know in no uncertain terms that he missed his grandma.

So what did Bubby say to Mommy and his babysitter as he lamented my absence? He told them again and again, "Graya buh-bye."

Uh, what?

"Looks like your name is Graya," Megan told me, with what I thought was a more enthusiastic laugh than was called for. She knows I've been waiting to find out what special name Bubby has for me, the grandma moniker that belongs to only me, separating me from all the other women in his life that have the grandma label attached.

Now that he's talking more and more, it looks like Bubby's come up with that name.

And what do I get?


Yes, I hadn't colored my hair before visiting Bubby and my gray roots were pretty evident, but I didn't think a 19-month-old would notice.

Okay, yeah, I know it has nothing to do with my hair and everything to do with Bubby's inability to fully enunciate yet. But I really don't want to be called "Graya." It doesn't have the warm and cozy ring of something like Nonny or G-ma or Grammy. I want something sweet and loving and special.

If nothing else, I want at least an M in his version of the word "Grandma." I'll settle for being called just plain ol' "Grandma" or "Gramma" over "Graya" any day. Either would be sweet and loving and special coming from my Bubby.

Bubby's vocabulary skills still have much room for improvement, so I'm pretty sure he'll get down the "M" in "Grandma." And if that's who I'll be to him for ever and ever going forward, that's okay with me. Because more important than what he calls me, Bubby makes it clear already, at this young age, that he loves me. And when I'm not there, he misses me.

At least as much as he misses the garbage truck after it empties the neighborhood trash cans and toodles on down the road.

What more could a grandma ask for?

Today's question from the "Would You Rather..." board game:

Would you rather age only from the neck up -- OR -- age only from the neck down?

Assuming that "from the neck up" doesn't involve the actual brain and mental functions, I'll say I'd rather age only from the neck up. I'm starting to get a tad arthritic in my knees and am finding I'd much rather have my body work correctly than have a wrinkle-free face and neck.