This is a day I dreaded when my children were young. I wanted them to stay young forever. But once they got older and started making decisions on their own, I have looked forward to this day with the anticipation of knowing that, by the grace of God, I brought them all to maturity and didn't let any of them fall down a well or get struck by lightning or be eaten by a giant spider.
You worry about those things, you know. And not all mothers are as blessed as I have been. My heart goes out to any mother who has lost a child. From the moment her first child enters the world, a woman never ceases to concern herself with his welfare. I cried for two hours when Seth (my oldest) went away to college. He still doesn't know that.
I don't think a woman knows what true, heartfelt, self-sacrificing, unconditional love is until she has a child. Then her heart gets wrapped into so many tangles around that child that nothing could ever free her of that bond. And each new child brings even more new tangles until a woman's heart is like millions of thin silver chains that have been kept in the same box for many years. Nothing is ever going to set all those tangles free.
This is my notice to my four children and to the world that I am free. Beginning at 1:29 a.m. Eastern time this morning I was emancipated. I am not responsible for any "debts" incurred by anyone other than me. I have spent close to thirty years (Seth is twenty-eight, Aaron twenty-six, and Rebecca twenty-three) feeling responsibility for another human being. But from this day forward I am responsible for only myself.
I am free of responsibility, but that doesn't change my love. And no matter where my children go or what they do, my love will never weaken, never get old, never grow weary. I want my children to spread their wings and fly--even if flying means flying away. I want them to dance, even if they dance on my heart.
Love never fails. But it's nice to be free of responsibility. And I'm confident that my children can all take care of themselves now. That makes today a very special, exciting day. Happy birthday, Rachel!
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permalinkThen today Rebecca told me that he was indeed saying my name because he was talking about us again today before we came to see him and he said An Rah Rah again and said the same thing he had said yesterday. So she knew he was referring to me.
I had tried to get him to say Ma (thinking it would be easy for him). But that didn't work, so I kept calling myself Grammy. I thought eventually he might say Gammy or even Gummy. Maybe even Gum Gum.
But, no, what Jonathan has chosen to call his loving grandmother is . . . Dum Dum.
But that's okay. At least he's mentioning me now and every word out of his mouth is not An Rah Rah.
Oh, and every time I give him a stuffed animal, he loves it. I gave him Curious George for Christmas and he was starting to want to take it with him when he went places. But Rebecca took it away because it has hard eyes and it had ripped. So I got him Ernie (from "Sesame Street"--no hard anything) and gave it to him for Valentine's Day, and she said he sleeps with it. So, Dum Dum or not, I make him happy.:)
Honestly, I think it started out as Num Num. One day not too long ago I met them at Salvation Army and Rebecca asked him if he wanted to go home with me. He put his finger to his mouth and said, "Num num." (He knows if he's with me he's going to be eating.) Then I think that just gradually turned to Dum Dum.
The other day I was playing a Hanson Christmas CD in the car when I was taking my eighteen-month-old grandson, Jonathan, home. He kept putting his hands over his ears or pulling his ears down and making funny faces.
So when I was getting him out of his seat, I said, "Jonathan, when you see Mommy, Grammy will say, 'Show Mommy what you think of Hanson,' and you put your hands over your ears, okay?" And I put my hands over my ears. I repeated it a couple of times to make sure he would remember.
When we were going up the sidewalk and onto the porch he was putting his hands over his ears. I said, "No, wait till I ask you."
When the door opened both my daughters, Rebecca (Jon's mom) and Rachel, were standing there. So I asked Jonathan to show them what he thought of Hanson, and he obediently put his hands over his ears.
It was so funny. I couldn't believe he'd do it, but he did! His daddy will be proud that he hates Hanson.:)
But as for me and MY house, Hanson rules! Okay, not my WHOLE house--mainly just my girls and me.
Speaking of things I have taught Jonathan, I taught him to plug things into the wall sockets, and he plugged in an iron and made a big iron-shaped burn on the carpet; and I taught him how the commode works, and he threw my remote control into it. So I am thinking I shouldn't try to teach him too much.
I did see a t-shirt I'd like to buy him though. It said: "What happens at Grandma's stays at Grandma's." If only!
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