Grand Joy

One of the greatest joys of being a grandparent is the freedom it brings. The freedom of loving, giving and supporting without the responsibilities of parenting. It’s often said that children don’t even recognize their parents anymore when they become grandparents. They say that grandparents somehow lose their ability to think straight and are way too soft on the grandkids. The children want to know, “Where did those people go that raised me? How come it feels like my kids are getting a better version of my parents as grandparents?”

Now that I’m a grandparent, let me try to make it make sense. I have 3 grandchildren, Mason(9), Arya(3) and Colin(16 mos). They call me NaNa and they are affectionately known to me as Tink, Poohda Girl and Bam Bam. They are absolutely wonderful. I mean I really do enjoy everything about them. They are beautiful, smart, funny and exhausting all at the same time. When they come over to visit, it often feels like the Tasmanian Devil bum rushed the door and touched every table, chair and wall only to leave a trail of crumbs and fingerprints behind. Tink, my handsome and first-born grand joy, loves watching YouTube and playing on his Nintendo Switch. I am the ultimate rockstar NaNa when I buy his favorite food (cheese pizza) and V-bucks for his game. Poohda Girl, my second grand joy, is my little mini me. That cutie patootie came out of my daughter’s womb looking just like me. I asked God for it and He sho nuff delivered…lol! She can watch Bluey and play “eye spy with her little eye” all day long. She knows what she wants, knows what she likes and isn’t afraid to tell you. She also doesn’t forget a thing. I got sick a day before her 3rd birthday party and wasn’t able to make it. She never fails to remind me whenever it crosses her mind. Bam, is my third grand joy. He’s so chunky and cute. I think he looks the most like my daughter when she was a baby. His cheeks are to die for. He knows how to wave hello and can do the hand sign for “milky”. He can say ma-ma, da-da, bubba, sissy, Ti-Ti, NaNa and gang-gang on command. Yes, I said gang-gang and he’ll sing for you too if the song hits his spirit. I feel so privileged to have them in my life. I actually get to relax, enjoy many moments and make memories with my grandkids that I didn’t necessarily get to do with my own children.

When I became a mom at 20 and again at 26, I was single. I knew that I would have to be the primary caretaker and provider for my daughters. For the first 7 years of my oldest daughter’s life and the 1st year of my youngest daughter’s life, I worked 2 jobs to provide for them. The hustle was real. I loved them dearly and I wished I could’ve spent more days exploring their little personalities, but I put more focus on the providing part than the doting part. My daughters have told me quite a few times that I was far from a “cookie cutter” mom. True, maybe it was my need to overcompensate for the absent parent or feeling an overwhelming responsibility to make sure that they grew up to be decent human beings. There’s no pride in being the mother of a serial killer or two. I know that’s a drastic analogy, but it’s true. When a child turns out to be less desirable than we, the parents, expect them to be; the where did I go wrong hits hard. So, I worked hard and I got married to become an example to them. I provided an environment that was structured, disciplined and esthetically pleasing for my children to grow up in.

I was definitely hard on my children. I raised my children to give respect and to be respectable. Education was not an option; it was a requirement. They had to write down their goals and make a plan to achieve them. Life in the Smith household wasn’t easy. They got disciplined for bad behavior and rewarded for their achievements. I ran a pretty tight ship and I expected them to do well at all times. My daughters felt like I made the rules, they couldn’t ask questions and they had to follow the rules or suffer the consequences. They call it a dictatorship. I call it parenting, but hey we can respectfully agree to disagree.

Parenting is HARD…period. In my opinion, it’s the hardest job that you can ever do with no monetary compensation. What works for one child might not work for the other. There’s a constant juggling act of giving too much and not giving enough. Parenting is a hodgepodge of taking what you liked from your childhood, throwing out what you didn’t, merging it with your spouses ideas of raising kids and praying and hoping for the best. Managing it alone as a single parent is even more complicated.

So when you’re blessed to become a grandparent, you’re just glad that you don’t have to do any of that hard, complicated, hodgepodge, hoping for the best sh!t anymore! I know some of our stories are different and for whatever reason you may have had to step in and parent all over again. Think of it as your God given do over. God will bless you greatly for it. For others, as a grandparent, you do become soft on the grandkids because well, you can be without judgment, criticism or expectations. As a grandparent, you don’t have to think straight. You really don’t have to think at all…you just show up, support and love. As a grandparent, you are a better version of yourself than you were as a parent because there’s no pressure. The weight and responsibility of who your grandchildren become ain’t on you…praise God for that!

You get to sit back, laugh, admire, advise, praise and encourage your children as they create families of their own. Being a GRANDparent is an absolute JOY.