G is for Grandma

Few words exist that still manage to stir up deep emotional responses.  Think about it…

Yorkie puppy, darn cute

Babies of any species (especially puppies)…the image of trust, warmth, softness wake up even hardened hearts.

All photos courtesy of Bing.com

Bailey's Irish Cream Ice Cream

 Ice cream…oh, yes. 

1965 Mustang convertible, cherry red, mint condition…wipe the drool before you need a bib.

And, then there is my personal favorite word:

Grandma…Grandmother…Nana…Abuela…Granny…Gran…Grand-mère…Grootmoeder…Isoäiti…Großmutter …Bestemor…nonna…名詞... Avó…

My daughter and her husband came by to visit one evening.  After a few minutes of awkward conversation, she gave me two gifts.  I opened the first one; it was a book, Grandma’s Favorite Stories.  The second gift was a bib that said “I love Grandpa!”

I started sobbing and hugging everyone.  My husband looked at the book and bib in confusion, and said, “What?  What’s going on?”  My daughter explained it to him, slowly.  Then he chuckled and hugged her.

Grandmothers are the glue of the family, whether they realize it or not.  They are responsible for passing on the family legends, knowledge, recipes, etc.  They pick up the slack when parents seem to miss what to do next.  Grandmas have open arms, warm hearts, and want to listen to everything their grandchildren say.

Well, at least, I do.  My grandmothers did.  

What about you?  What did you think when you read the word “Grandma”? 

It's Gonna Happen!

“It’s gonna happen!”  Truer words have never been spoken, and certainly never by an 18 month old brilliant little girl. 

Bright Eyes started talking very early; in fact, she was barely ten months old when she turned to her parents and asked, “Where BAH go?”  BAH was her word for “pacifier” or “binky”.  They blinked a few times and told her that bah was by the TV.  She turned, saw it, and picked it up.

Since then, Bright Eyes has been a talking machine, able to hold her own with just about any adult. Her pediatrician says he’s never encountered such a verbally gifted child, I write with my ample chest inflated in humble pride.

It's gonna happen.

When Bright Eyes was 18 months old, her father was settled in the rocking chair, playing with my daughter's Game Boy ™  while watching Bright Eyes and the newborn Sunshine.  Bright Eyes looked up from putting all her stuffed animals down for naps, shook her head, and told him that “…Mama doesn’t like it when you play with her toys.  You’re gonna get in trouble.” 

Daddy was taken aback, and told her that Mama would not mind if he played with the Game Boy.  But Bright Eyes was not impressed.  She didn’t even look up at him.  “You’re gonna get in trouble,” and then she sighed.  “It’s gonna happen!”

Apparently, Bright Eyes had learned this lesson, and heard that phrase many times before.  She was simply sharing this bit of wisdom she had amassed in her one-and-a-half years of life.

One way, my way!

Now, whenever there is a possibility of negative outcome, that is our own catch phrase, “It’s gonna happen.”  When we need a good laugh after dropping a plate of spaghetti on the carpet, we say, “It’s gonna happen.”  When Sunshine and Bright Eyes are standing eye to eye, and there is blood in the air, I tell them, “It’s gonna happen” and the battle scales down. 

You can borrow this phrase if you want.