grandchildren

You know before I became a grandmother, I used to see all those treacle-filled little treasures in the all the catalogs.  I'm not a very treacle person and mostly find little guardian angels to put on your rearview mirror offensive at best.  But one thing I can agree with in all this pop culture "wisdom" is "If I had known how fun granchildren were, I'd have them first."

Fun barely begins to cover it.  From the moment I held my son's baby burrito as he insisted on calling her in her swaddling, I was hooked.  She looked right up in my face as if to say "Hi, Grandma."

She finds Grandma and Grandpa infinitely entertaining.  We are just such fun people, unlike Mom and Dad with all their rules.  We have a clock that chimes and a large flower garden.  We take lots of pictures and buy lots of things.  We even let her cook.

I knew we had a pact the last time she visited.  Earlier in the day, she had done something outside the rules.  She immediately pointed out that her uncle led her into doing this and was in fact doing it too.  Later, another rule violation occurred.  This was in fact something Grandma had let her do earlier.  Did she throw Grandma under the bus with her uncle?  No siree.  She took her chastisement and moved on.

The worry and the fret of raising a child disappear with a grandchild.  I don't care when she sleeps through the night or how many times she says thank you.   I do care that she stays safe and will tell her no if she could get hurt.  Otherwise,  I'm so ok with almost everything she does And she returns this favor.  She's ok with almost everything I do.  

And all the little things she does just like her daddy.  Or just like her grandma.  Nature trumps nurture is some of the smallest nuances.  Her sleeping patterns from birth have been those of her father's as a child.  Naps are such a nuisance.  And she fights them every step of the way and makes sure they are short.  She loves outside like her grandmother and great-grandfather.  She really hates being cooped up in a house.  She begs to be let outside.  

She is a most endearing little bundle.  Even when I see echoes of family members, she remains her own little person with her own opinions.  She loves turtles and frogs.   She loves the color purple, despite our attempts to dress her in pink, Grandma's favorite color.  She thinks her 3 uncles are the funniest people put on this earth.  She only poses nicely for Grandpa when he is taking pictures.  She loves games that Daddy invents, like throwing the stuffed animals.   And only Mommy knows how to read a book.  

In other words she is perfect.