For months, I’ve stared at the grainy ultrasound on my daughter’s refrigerator. But on July 30, that black and gray image came into focus. Francesca Blanche Coleman arrived, all 8 lbs., 1 oz. of her.

Todd, Lucia, and Francesca

Todd, Lucia, and Francesca

The moment I held her in my arms – little pointed chin, rosebud lips, velvety cheeks – I got that surge of grandmother love all over again.

Her big sister, Lucia Maya, age 3, is a larger than life ball of energy who adores her new little sister and is out of her mind with jealousy. Lu just wants Chesa to wake up and play. She pokes, she prods, and last night she ripped the baby’s cap off her soft little head. “Fontanel” means nothing to Lu.

You’d think being a grandmother would be old hat by now. But it’s not. As the writer Anne Lamott says, “It’s the bonus round.” If you live long enough to see your children have children, you get this amazing second chance at parenthood with all the fun and none of the responsibility. Well, at least a very modified version of it.

I was the designated babysitter during the labor and birth.  Lu and I watched “Nanny McPhee” for the sixth time (I think she’s getting ideas from those misbehaving children), put together puzzles, ate hash browns with ketchup (lots of ketchup), visited the neighbors’ new puppy, and otherwise had a ripping good time. Helping her manage her wild emotions – one minute sunny and bright, the next minute raging and crying – took all the patience and creativity I could muster. I guess Ms. Lamott never promised me a rose garden.

Once the new baby came home with her proud, exhausted parents, I had to turn around and go back to my corporate editing job. Why can’t we have grandparent leave?

Like many in my generation I’m at that awkward stage — old enough to know the Social Security check will soon be in the mail, but still too young to stop working. Lots of working grandparents actually raise their grandchildren. I’m one of the lucky ones: I just have to figure out how to juggle occasional babysitting with trips to the zoo. I get to spoil the little muffins and then hand them back to mommy and daddy. Nonetheless, I worry that work is cutting into my time with the girls.

I dealt with mommy guilt for years as a single mom, and now I’m on to grandmommy guilt. Work-life balance is a challenge at every stage. But I remind myself that staying present for those I love, and for my writing, and for my making-a-living are problems I’m lucky to have.

I just wish I had one of those magic sticks like Nanny McPhee. Then everyone would behave!

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

8 Comments

  1. krpooler

    It’s so delightful to share in your joy, Eleanor. I remember holding my grandson in the delivery room and thinking I will never see the world in the same way again. It’s a beautiful gift. My next thought was, oh no another person to worry about!! Your reflections are lovely and so true. Blessings to you all.

    • Eleanor Vincent

      Thanks, Kathy. Feeling very lucky. And vulnerable. As you point out, our loves come with a cost. It is totally worth it, though!

  2. Pattti Frame

    Once again I am in love with your intimate reflection of life…….

  3. cassidylaurie

    Love your writing and love YOU! Congrats Gramma..or whatever they call you. I’m Gigi and my husband is Poppie!!

    • Eleanor Vincent

      I’m Mimi but I answer to grandma. 😉 Being a grandparent is just a gas! As my brother-in-law says, “Why didn’t we have the grandkids first?” So much fun!

      • cassidylaurie

        Sorry I never realized that you replied to the email, Mimi!! Yes, grandchildren are wonderful. You get all the fun stuff and then you get to take a siesta after they go home. They are just so precious to hold and to love. We are lucky!
        Xo

        • Eleanor Vincent

          Thanks for the nice reminder of this post. I had forgotten it. We are SO lucky!

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