Large doses of cuteness, cuddling and fun, without the intense stress of parenthood. Yes indeed, 18 months into it, I am thoroughly loving this whole grandma gig.
If a rotten smell wafts up from the nether regions of her diaper, I can simply hand off little Edda Rose to one of her parents for a pit stop. If she has a toddler meltdown, I can deposit her in the arms of her mom or dad and know the buck stops with them, not me.
What a deal.
How well I remember when my sons were babies and occasionally launched into crying jags. I wanted to move heaven and earth to fix whatever was wrong. Their cries were like a 400-decibel call to arms, a shrieking fire alarm, a tornado warning, a medical “code blue.” Their angst made me feel like a giant gorilla was jumping up and down on my heart and screaming, “Fix it … fix it … fix it!”
But sometimes, I just didn’t know how.
Is it your tummy? Do you have an earache? Are you tired? Are you hungry? Are you cutting teeth? Sometimes I could figure it out, sometimes I couldn’t.
I changed diapers, I fed, I burped, I rocked, I sang, I soothed, I did the best I could and I was always, always keenly aware that I was not doing any of it perfectly. The heavy consequences of my parenting performance always hung over me.
Older women said to me, “This time goes by so quickly; be sure you enjoy your children when they are young.”
I did enjoy my kids … a lot … but not all the time. I loved them always, but there were times when being a new parent was too overwhelming to be a barrel of laughs. The years flew by, but some of the days seemed to last forever.
But being a grandma isn’t like that. The years grace grandparents with more patience and perspective … and permission to allow our children to rightfully take on the weighty responsibilities of childrearing.
While our kids gnaw on the sometimes gristly meat of new parenthood, we grandparents get to enjoy the dessert.
So Edda Rose, my little dessert, I’m serving notice to you and to that little brother of yours on the way, and to all the others God may graciously send, that I plan to fully exercise my right to love you, spoil you, enjoy you, and giggle with you over things that parents sometimes don’t feel permission to giggle about.
I’ve earned my grandma badge and I plan to wear it.
And I will forever be grateful to you for reminding me about God’s love for me. For reminding me that His love isn’t just a serious, heavy, take-your-medicine love. It’s also a playful, delightful, throw-your-head-back-and-laugh love.
You have reminded me of something God said to and about His children: “The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with his love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” (Zephaniah 3:17)
His is the heart of a perfect parent AND a perfect grandparent. It’s easy for me to forget that God takes great delight in me, that He rejoices over me with singing. And then you remind me. You charge toward me in toddler hyper-drive and jump with abandon into my arms. I sweep you up and you lay your head on my shoulder.
And I am reminded that this is what my heavenly Father wants most from me. This is what delights His heart. This is how He feels about me.
And you inspire me to run to Him.