This Little Piggy

I’m going to be a grandmother! Now there’s a sentence that seemed so far from ever gracing my lips just a few short years ago. I have some vivid memories of my years with little kids as a mom; I wonder—will it be the same with my grandchild—and down the road (hopefully) grandchildren?

I imagine lots of rocking, helping pudgy fingers fit plastic geometric shapes into matching holes, finger-paint adventures…even that long-awaited sequel, Baby Food, Revisited. I picture having more photos of my grandkids hanging around the house than I ever had of my own children; impulse buys; “stations” set up in my house to cater to the interests and needs of the little one (like the changing table currently holding a prominent place in the closet of my craft room).

I hope that I will be fun—and suspect that I may even be more fun than I was with my kids in their growing-up years. I may just be destined to turn into one of those silly grandmas, like my mom was—and she thoroughly enjoyed it too.

I envision eliciting giggles, supervising bath-time with lots of floaty friends (motivating me to keep the bathtub clean as a whistle), and having “special” cups and dishes at Grandma’s house.

I am excited to learn this little one’s personality—what he or she loves or hates, values or disregards, collects or abandons. Will my grandchild be artistically inclined, an avid reader, athletic? So many questions to be answered and avenues to explore. And I hope to be a big part of the exploration.

I didn’t have grandparents who were super involved in my day-to-day happenings—and I desire something completely different with my first grandchild—and any grandchildren yet to come. I want to cultivate a grandparent-grandchild relationship that is unsurpassed in its levels of connection, love, and trust. When that little voice wants to tell me something, I want to be fully present, engaged, and showing the utmost interest. I want games like “This Little Piggy” to not just be a silly song—but a heartfelt shared event that cannot be experienced in quite the same way among any other people in the universe except us two. I want to know my grandchild—and likewise, be known.

I expect that this precious little one will sometimes exasperate me, tire me, or otherwise push against my limits, but in my mind and heart the joy that is to come far outweighs any of the momentary struggles.

So here’s to dirty diapers, spitting out unwanted mash, throwing spoons on the floor, and even causing a scene at the mall. I will be stocking up on hugs and kisses, songs and stories, picking outfits and picking flowers. I am all in. I can’t wait to see your face, little cherub. Be prepared—I plan to be the best stinkin’ grandma around!