In the beginning, I thought I could love no child more than my first-born child, then came my second and I loved this child equally, if not more; next the twins and a double-whammy of love hit and finally my youngest and the love that filled my heart overflowed. Then – I thought I’ll never love a grandchild as much – then came my first grandchild – and the heart became a larger vessel to carry the joyousness life granted to me.
(excerpt from the poem: Cotton Candy & Hot Buttered Popcorn)
The sweet pleasure of a grandchild is of such sweet joyfulness
my heart may not bear it but has done so nine-times-hence the first
and acceptable to more times than nine-for all extensional joys
doth come in each occurrence – the addition of a newborn grandchild.
One of the greatest joys in my life is spending time with each of my grandchildren doing all the fun things they love to do, from computer games to finger paints. I can stop what I am doing — clean later!-sew tomorrow!-make the bed? Oh please a grandchild is here! — It is wonderful to finally be the one who doesn’t worry about finger paint on patio for they and I have just as much fun with the garden hose and a sponge after the painting is over. Neither do I wonder if too many balls are in the back yard for kicking around for in my opinion, on any given day, there are two less than too many! I just go with the flow and enjoy each moment I have with them. After all, spending time with the grandkids is better than getting cotton candy at the fair. And, don’t you know, cotton candy is the best treat in the world!
I am a grandmother who loves to have fun with her grandchildren but I am also an extension of my children’s parenting choices because I do respect the boundaries they set for their children and I do
mostly adhere to them but I selfishly want to be liked by my grandchildren so my house is a house where fewer rules exist, as it should be . Feet on the coffee table? Spilled milk on the floor? Bugs, rocks and sticks in their pockets? All are allowed at Nana’s house. (the big stuff, i.e. talking ill of another, hitting are not). I want my house to be a place my grandchildren love to come to and don’t mind staying at when they do come because-quite frankly Charlotte-I do give a Damn (that’s a play on one of my favorite movie lines from one of my favorite movies, Gone With The Wind) about their comfort and happiness whilst around me. In fact, last time my youngest brought her daughter for a visit and when she was about to leave to see an old friend she nervously told her child (age 3) she was to be left behind, with me, but instead of a pout she got a little girl jumping up and down and exclaiming “good, Grandma’s fun!” I, of course, immediately made an extra-large potion of bubbles for blowing and got out the craft box. Need I say more here?