Friday, October 8, 2010

Weird Grammy

Example. That's a mighty big word carrying a great deal of responsibility with it. Example.

"Grammy, you are a weird and a fun grandma. You aren't like other grandmas," my granddaughter, Gabby, informed me. "They're old."

Setting an example. Hm. Weird. Hm.

"Ah, so why am I weird?" I asked her.

"You like to sing and dance and be crazy. We have fun," she replied.

True. I'm not afraid to dance through a grocery store or walk on a low wall. We giggle and sing our way to and from the store playing games and talking. The girls' friends run up to hug me and call me Grandma. So am I really weird?

We sat on the sofa this morning pretending to have a morning talk show. Each of the girls joined in with their imaginations entertaining the unseen audience. Our topic? Tickling. Morning grogginess turned into laughter. Two sisters who were bickering became part of a larger cause....even if it was imaginary. Well, maybe I am a little weird.

My grandchildren are learning to be  creative and uninhibited. They free up their spirits to dance and express. They do not limit their creativity. They invent new games and discover new ideas.

This is not to say that they are not taught appropriate behavior and manners. They know when to play and when not to play. They also know that there isn't a time or place that Grammy isn't available to them. A bond is formed in playing. We learn the dos and don'ts of one another. We learn communication.

As the children grow, so does our relationship. There is more talk about growing up and making decisions. We watch television in a different way with more grownup communication over the questions they ask. Topics that might be awkward are easily discussed. We learn from one another. I help them find their answers.

No, I'll probably never grow up. Someday I'll probably be leading seniors in a retirement home in a kick line. It would be easier to just watch the children. It would be easier to sit on the sidelines instead of diving into the fray, but I'm thinking that weird might be a good thing. Maybe it is okay to dare to be different to allow my family to dare to be themselves, to embrace who they are and to pass on the weirdness.

Weird? Not me. Now where are those vampire teeth?

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