The Perks of Grandparent-hood
Posted: Monday, November 09, 2009
by Maureen Thomson
Lyssabeth's Bay Area Wedding Officiants
My husband and I took granddaughter Kaydi to Disney World last month. We knew before we left that this would be an undertaking, neither of us being 30 (or anywhere close) anymore and not having firsthand experience at parenting a 3-year old for nigh on 20 years. While we knew it would be magical to experience Disney through Kaydi's eyes, we wondered how she'd be after a few days of separation from her folks. Personally, I worried about my own patience level. Have I really grown more tolerant in my old age (as I like to believe) or am I simply more patient because my impatience-triggers (i.e. noisy, demanding, hyper children) are no longer a part of my daily routine? We were about to find out. I'm happy to say that the trip was a blast. Kaydi was awed by the Princesses and fearless on the rides--even going on the Tower of Terror with Grammy, who clutched the child in panic that her little body (the child's, not the Grammy's) would be ejected from the car free-falling at over 70 miles per hour. Parenting is like riding a bike, I learned. It comes back with ease and in the time it took to say "and they lived happily ever after" I was handling the intricacies of the three-year-old personality with ease. Mommy-phrases, I hadn't uttered in years came back to me like I'd never taken a break from them. "Don't pick your nose," "No, you can't take your shoes off in the restaurant," "Do you have to go potty?" and the ubiquitous "Because I said so," slipped out of my mouth like butter. Add to those the more recently acquired Grandmother-love phrases of, "Of course you can have another ice cream, Kaydi?" "Can I blow raspberries on your belly?" and "You are Beee---uuutiful!" A lovely combination indeed.
But let's be honest; none of that went through my mind during the Disney trip. When people called me Kaydi's mom, I simpered, blushed modestly and knew, just knew, that I don't look a day over 35. Sometimes I corrected them (I knew Kaydi would have ratted me out anyway) but if Kaydi was out of earshot. I let the other person believe the fantasy.
Oh yes, it is a very magical kingdom. Bippedy-Bobbedy-Boo! One can believe anything there.
There were other unexpected delights on our trip. I was able to keep up with a three-year-old with relative ease (a hearty thank you to my elliptical machine), the crowds and lines didn't frustrate me or Kaydi nearly as much as I feared they might, and I only lost Kaydi once. (And in reality she was simply behind a trash can and not all that far away, but for the five seconds of sheer panic that cursed through my body, I think I aged 5 years.)
But by far, the greatest perk of the trip was resuming the power of the stroller. That was one aspect of motherhood that I'd forgotten about, but it came back to me instantly. If you're a mom of any age, you know what I'm talking about. The power of the stroller. Put one of those puppies into the hands of the gentlest woman and she becomes as aggressive as Attila the Hun. We who courteously hold doors for old people, don't say "boo" if it's our turn to order at the deli and the next customer beats us to it, graciously let others cut in front of us in the supermarket checkout and never knowingly cut someone off in traffic, become Monster Mamas once behind the handle of a stroller. It makes us feel invincible. Move! Baby on Board! Watch your heels, for I will clip them. Crowds open up for us like the parting of the Red Sea. Moses has nothing on us and we love it! We become confident, then downright aggressive. Get out of my way or I will mow you down! The power is more exhilarating than a ride on Big Thunder Mountain railroad.
Now, as a non-stroller pusher, I despise this trait. Who do these pushy broads think they are, bearing down upon me on the sidewalk three abreast with their caterwauling offspring forcing me out into traffic if I have the audacity to pass? But as one of them? Watch out! The stroller is power with a capital "P." By the end of Day One in the Magic Kingdom, I was running circles around the younger, less experienced mothers. Amateurs! When Jeremy would hesitate in a crowd, I'd barrel right on through, for I had the protection of the stroller. When a family of five came toward me walking abreast, I immediately targeted the smallest member (experienced stroller Mamas instinctively know how to target the weakest link) and made a beeline, causing them to reroute around me. Funneling to get on the monorail was never a problem; people always defer to the power of the stroller (even more so if the kid is wailing to beat the band).
And the best thing is that it's considered acceptable behavior. Non-stroller pushers might not like it, but they realize the futility of resistance. It's simply the way of the world. Being a stroller bully is totally socially acceptable. I confess, now that I'm back home, I miss the glory of having the stroller. In fact, I'm thinking of buying the biggest stroller I can find and using it all the time, even when I have no little one with me. Imagine the possibilities. Easy access to shopping malls, restaurants. movie theaterseven the symphony. It's nearly as good as having a handicapped sticker and less fraudulent to obtain (if you're not truly handicapped that is).
Behind the stroller, I am prettier, smarter, sexier and more confident. No wonder, people thought I didn't look a day over 35 (okay, that's not exactly the way it played out, but this is my story and I'm sticking to it).
My advice to anyone going through a mid-life crisis or empty nest syndrome? Grab a kid (your own grandchild or someone else's) a stroller (the bigger the better--umbrella strollers won't cut it unless you fold them up and wave them menacingly in front of you) and head to the nearest crowded place (mall, amusement park, summer festival, church social, etc.) and have at it. You'll feel years younger, I promise!
Maureen Thomson is a wedding officiant and owner of Lyssabeth's Wedding Officiants serving California, Colorado and Oregon.
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Top-level comments on this article: (6 total)Great article. Important to consider not using "bold" to emphasize too many times. Just want to make sure that it's used just at the right times.Thanks for your feedback. Bold used three times to convey emphasis.
Great article Maureen,I'm not quite ready to be a grandmother and I'm older! So, for my husband's grandchildren, I am NaNa.Thanks for another smile today,
You took us there and it WAS fun! thanks for writing this. Marijo
I am highly dubious that a three year old could enjoy any part of or recall any part of or endure any part of the monstrous distances inherent to Disneyworld other than the Magic Kingdom!
I look forward to becoming a grandmother. It brought a smile to my rainy day!
You are one funny woman Maureen. I love your way of looking at life, and you tell a great story!
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