We used to giggle at their behavior and roll our eyes when they would turn on the photo app on their phones to proudly scroll over literally hundreds of images, or for the less techno-savvy, when they would pull out their wallets to eagerly show us the array of age-arranged pictures of their grandkids.
Grandparents may be the proudest creations on planet Earth, and Ron, my husband and I, at 43 years young, have become them. And yes, we are very proud and full of joy.
Our little grand-button was born a little over a month ago and we have already deeply and hopelessly fallen into his grasp like a couple of bears into a honeycomb. Or is it the other way?
This baby is a 1-month-old weapon in the making.
At 1 month old, his manipulative personality has gotten my husband to do something he swore before never to do (at least in my presence): baby talk. It fills my heart with LOL (laughter out loud) all the way as he is always making fun of my sister and me, who while on the phone, think we are 2 at 40+. You can roll your eyes all you want, but I have not met a couple of closer sisters than us. Maybe there is some secret science-sauce to baby talk.
Enough of me, back to the grand-little joy.
As I was saying, his 1-month conspiring and piercing eyes lock into ours like a laser-hypnotizing gun and make us do everything they want. And don’t get me started on the tight, surrendering, very convincing grip of his 1-month super strong hand. Little but powerful like a soft warm summer wind that overcomes fields of air-dancing dandelions.
43 The years young my husband and I are as we embrace our grand-little joy
This baby is a 1-month-old weapon in the making. A weapon of mass appropriation of our hearts, of mass invasion into the essence of our prayers, a weapon of mass usurpation of our emotions and our desire to always be there for him. He is the craftiest of soldiers camouflaged as the softest and pudgiest of angels, with the most delicate and yet succulent toes that have stepped on this planet. Literally.
At 43, I simply melt when my so-called friends scoffingly call me a Grandma. If they only knew that name makes my heart smile in ways I never imagined possible in this world, they would probably stop. But it really feels like a caress of Jesus on my cheek. Being a G-mom, like my cool husband has decided to “label” us, is the answer to a prayer I didn’t even know my heart was chanting at the top of its valves.
It is interesting how God allows life to happen always for our benefit and growth.
It is interesting how God allows life to happen always for our benefit and growth. I have no children of my own. I married into five and, although it was not a bed of roses at all, I can honestly say, God has allowed for my relationship with those five individuals to boost, extort and empower with godly fury many evolutional changes into the essence of who I am. These children are all grown up and out of our house, and I still continue to change. Sometimes it goes more like two steps ahead, then three back. But other times I feel I can run to become the best I can aspire to be, with a heart that bursts out in tears of joy and hope towards this new life that has engulfed my persona in a very unexpected way.
I love you, Mateo.
Credit: Bradenton Herald