Gracen and Grandma Go Shopping

Sold-Houston Chronicle Among Friends 6/18/03

Being a grandmother is not as easy as it sounds. When I gleefully entered the world of grand parenting I was shocked to discover that nearly everything in the baby-world had changed since I was a young mother with a new baby, over thirty years ago. I feared that buying for a child in the 21^st century had become far too complicated for my aging mentality. Then I thought of a plan to ease my intimidation over the grandmother job and become the perfect grandmother at the same time. I daydreamed of taking Gracen, my nine-month-old grandchild, on a shopping adventure where she could pick out toys that would teach her, improve her coordination, train her senses and be appropriate for her age and then she would forever remember her grandmother “Mimi” (me) with a loving heart.

However, my dream of a fun-filled adventure died fast when my granddaughter refused to sit in her car seat. I understood Gracen’s complaints. The modern car seats are much more involved and confining than they used to be. Earlier I had practiced buckling Gracen into her car seat under her mother’s protective watch because the last time I had faced a car seat was during the Nixon administration when I could juggle two toddlers, a house on a corner lot, and a husband who worked long hours. Now, I had wrinkled into a grandmother with much less energy, agility, and confidence to juggle anything. And, these days, a child is not merely buckled into a car seat. A child is now strapped, hooked, belted and secured into a car seat, all at the same time. However, I agree with its necessary safety and so I did conquer the car seat puzzle, buckled my own seat belt and backed out of the driveway. I prided myself in conquering my first challenge.

My pride was short-lived. Just as I turned onto the main street of our neighborhood, not three minutes from my house, Gracen startled me with a loud grunt. And just as suddenly, I realized that I had forgotten her diaper bag. I admonished myself about my lack of memory. I reminded myself that I was not new to babies. Of course, (I argued back to myself) that was years ago, long before my memory began to wane, although I still remembered what grunting meant. I rolled down the car windows wondering how a child so sweet could smell so bad and doubled back to my house for a diaper change and the diaper bag to ward off any further emergencies.

The diaper change accomplished (I am not going to attempt to explain the differences between diapers today and those of long ago) I wrestled Gracen back into her car seat and again we started on our adventure. We arrived at a small store full of toys to “test” before any purchase. Because the large toy warehouses have a multitude of long aisles crowded with toys, gadgets and gizmos from floor to ceiling, I thought a small toy store would be much less overwhelming…for me.

I unbelted, unlatched, unsecured Gracen and carried her into the store. The salesgirl greeted me with a huge grin on her face and an unmistakable gleam in her eye. I sat Gracen on the carpeted floor and told her to play with the toys and decide which ones she wanted. Since Gracen is a brilliant child she understood every word of my instruction, but she didn’t seem interested in any of the toys that whistled, whirred and popped around her. The musical stacking toy left her bored after only a few flashing beeps, the symphonic blocks made her cry, and the blue fuzzy, rubber car was not even honored with a passing glance. Gracen was most interested in the toddler strapped in a stroller, not allowed to sit on the floor to play. Gracen seemed to be thinking that the child needed a grandmother to take him shopping (or maybe I was just daydreaming again).

And then, Gracen decided to pull herself up to a standing position. She is not only smart, she is also quick or else I am shamefully slow, because before I could react, Gracen fell over onto her shoulder and then hit her head. Her wail of injury and surprise reminded me of what a primal scream must sound like. Her angry look at me as I picked her up made my stomach tie in knots. I could do nothing but hold her, speak soothing words and feel guilty as my dream of becoming the perfect grandmother dissolved before my eyes.

When Gracen stopped crying, I decided to purchase a few toys even though Gracen had shown no interest in any of them. I switched Gracen to my left hip and while searching in my purse for my credit card, Gracen stretched down from my arms to try to pick up a red and green rubber ball sitting in a wire bin just out of her reach. She wanted to play with a plain, ordinary, uncomplicated rubber ball similar to one her father had played with as a baby. I suddenly realized that not everything in my new grand parenting world had changed. And so, I bought the colorful rubber ball for Gracen and we went home to play “roll the ball and watch Mimi run after the ball” on my kitchen floor.

I decided that I could do this job of grand parenting, if Gracen would teach me. And I was willing to learn; right after our naps.