Being a Nana these days is tricky. Once, grandparents were asked for their advice on how to raise a child, but now members of the “younger generation” tend to turn to their peers; and it is important to accept that choice—no matter how frustrating it is to repress the urge to offer well-intentioned guidance.
On the other hand, there is pleasure to be had in this delicate business of balancing grandmotherly love with discretion: my son and his wife are doing an admirable job of raising Ari and Liam, doing well without any of my interference.
They set definitive boundaries when they are called for, using previous generations’ technique of a “time out,” yet also give the kids what they call “agency—” a new term I’ve never before heard applied to children who are nearly five and just two. Every once in a while, this approach backfires and a tantrum ensues, but most of the time it works well and both boys have choices that suit them and which makes them happy. And that makes Nana happy, as well.
Two Saturdays ago, when Liam turned two, his parents threw him a large party; I remembered my Nana’s adage that you only invite the age of the birthday boy plus one—but zipped my mouth shut on the observation. Vania has a huge extended family and the house was filled with over thirty guests. Though Brad and I know only a few of them well, we were greeted with warmth and enthusiasm by all. Hugs, kisses on both cheeks, and much talking with no one being left out.
Surprisingly, the children did not “melt down” as I had anticipated, but enjoyed themselves, happy with the treat of moving from one relative to the next for some loving, and then settling down to play with the other kids present. Once again, my children had taught me a new approach to maneuvering through the parental maze, and so I decided to celebrate Liam’s birthday by eating an inordinate amount of cake that definitely was not on my diet.
Though we had not seen our grandchildren since Christmas, they showered both of us with love and were an exuberant part of the “welcome wagon.” This was particularly gratifying—definitely the most pleasurable aspect of the weekend in New York. Liam is learning how to talk, waves goodbye to one and all, readily gives kisses to everyone, crows out all of our names, and is very excited to be doing every bit of this. Ari is a whiz at all he tries to do, probably too intelligent for his own good—and his parents’, too—as he is continually outsmarting everyone in the family.
Presents are important, of course, and we gave Liam the promise of a playhouse for the backyard; despite a terrific smooch on the cheek, I’m not sure he really understood that the gift would arrive a little bit later, when Nicholas and Vania have the time to measure the space into which it will fit. Nevertheless, he has learned how to say thank you politely, a definite plus.
On Sunday, it was time to get Ari the fish we had promised him at Christmas, for the tank we gave him that last time we were together in December. We made a sojourn to an aquarium down in lower Manhattan and he picked out a flashy Beta. Then home we went to loose the fish into his new waters. Ari stood on his stool to watch “Gummie Bear” swim up and down in the bubbles from the air stone, and then turned to me with a grin that lit up his face. Thank you received.
I continue to be grateful: for two grandsons who keep me hopping with affection; for a wonderful daughter-in-law with whom I have a fruitful and happy connection; for a husband who loves them all as much as I do; for a new set of warm relatives; and for an ex-husband who joins me in the delight of all that has come to pass from the creation of our original family. And then there is, of course, my ever-expanding relationship with my son as we gather round the newest generation—his children.
Returning to New York in a month, we will be taking care of the boys on our own, while Nicholas and Vania have a well-deserved vacation. We look forward to maneuvering through the currents of grandparenting in loco parentis with anticipation. It will be enlightening to see how well we do.
Yours,
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