a grandma.
Today, my first grandchild turns five.
How?
How is this possible?
I can remember vividly the day he was born and the first time I held him in my arms as if it were just moments ago. This tiny, sleeping bundle of love touched my soul and made me remember what it was like the first time I held my daughter, his mother.
I know the experts will tell you the euphoria we feel when we hold a child or grandchild is just a rush of endorphins and dopamine flooding your system, jolting your happy centers. Okay, that could explain the physical joy we experience.
But the spiritual joy is inexplicable.
I remember the way I instantly fell in love with him. Somewhere, deep inside me, I remember pledging to always, always, protect him; do anything in my power to make sure he had a good life; a happy life; a protected life.
I vowed to ensure he would never know poverty; hunger; cruelty; harm.
I cried when I realized I could never protect him from everything that would come into his life that may hurt him, but I would do everything in my power to make sure he knew he was loved and cherished with everything in my being.
Every year I have watched him grow and mature; learn new things and turn into the person he will be in the future.
He is not perfect – no one is – and that is okay. Perfection is overrated and boring.
I had a reader ask me once why I don’t post pictures of my grandchildren online, especially when I talk about them so much.
The answer is simple.
My daughter and her family are private people. I am not.
I have a public persona because of my writing career and that brings along with it strangers who think they know you just because they read your books or follow you on social media. In this day and age of child abductions, craycray creepy people, and people who would use children for a bad means to an end, I am protecting their privacy and their presence by not posting pictures. Plus, the kids have no say in how their images are used, and I will not exploit them for likes and clicks.
I would hope no grandparent would.
Today, my little man turns 5. Impossible, but true,
5.
Goodness. How much change he has already seen in himself and the world around him.
Grandparenting brings a special kind of love with it. It’s the feeling you had when your own babies were born. It’s the remembrance of all the wonderful emotions from a time that was fresh and new, filled with hope for the future. It’s a sense that all could be right with the world just because this little one arrived.
Being a parent holds a great deal of responsibility, and sometimes, as parents, we deal more with managing our children than simply just loving them. But with grandparenting, that responsibility to manage and dictate and teach is – in my opinion – lessened, allowing us to simply love. Don’t get me wrong: we still have a responsibility to ensure no harm comes to them, that they are kept safe, and that they learn. But the pressure of being the one who has to teach and guide and protect is lessened, and you can just pour all the love into them every single day.
Plus, when they misbehave, you can give them back to their parents! Couldn’t do that with your own! LOL
Today, my little man is 5.
Happy Birthday, darling boy. Grandma loves you to the moon and back, to the stars and heavens, and all the places in between.
Peggy Jaeger, Author 