I'm a Netta...

I’ve spent the last week getting to know my new little grandson.  I had a sleepover with him for three nights, sleeping in the same room.  No, I couldn’t breastfeed, or even bottlefeed him.  That was his mother’s job.  My job was to get his binky in his mouth as quickly as possible to try to extend his sleep between feedings.  I also got to chat with him as I changed his diaper before bringing him in to his Mom.  I took a turn walking him around the apartment or outside during the fussy evening hour.  I bought groceries, diapers and dinner.  It was a few days I will treasure. 

My parent’s relationship with my children has evolved over their lifetimes.  When everyone was younger, they were engaged, active and involved with each other.  Even though my parents lived thousands of miles away, they visited often, at least a week at a time.  My Dad still remembers walking to the store with Matthew to buy the paper and he’d treat him to a lollipop.  They’d run down some of the hills with the super-duper smooth gliding stroller.  (Click here if you want to read about my first stroller.)  My Mom ALWAYS had their backs.  Like, she NEVER took my side.  Matthew is forever AWESOME to her.   My mother was in the delivery room when Harrison was born.  That’s her claim to fame with him…she held my leg and watched him enter this world.   And...she “rescued” him from the playpen when he was a year old.  Once she did…he wasn’t going back in.  Harrison spent the most time with my parents on the farm.  He flew to Utah several summers in a row to “help” on the farm.   To my parents, it was all about entertaining him, and keeping him happy to come back.  They’d take him fishing and let him drive brush to the dump (at 13 with no license).  He had full use of the 4-wheeler and mastered his horse-whisperer talents.  My mother, at 83 years old, accompanied Harrison on a trial ride down in to Bryce Canyon, because he needed an adult with him.  His last trip to the farm by himself was when he was 14…the bow and arrow, Davey Crockett guns and Star Wars figures just weren’t keeping his interest.  But Harrison will forever love the farm according to my Mom.  And I hope as an adult, he’ll remember it that way, instead of a cranky adolescent memory.  Grandma and Grampa were there for Madeleine’s Kindergarden Author’s Day, and she couldn’t have been prouder to look over her classmates to her grinning grandparents.  But as she’s gotten older, so have my parents, and most of her memories of the farm involve her cousins.  Last winter when my parents lived with us, my mother couldn’t miss an opportunity to see her cheer.  Despite hard bleachers without back support, my mother was there.  She is the ultimate cheerleader to all my children.  My Father weeps with joy whenever he sees my family.  His love is unquestioned. 

I’ve missed blogging.  I needed this time to reflect on my own children’s Grandparents.  Because despite the joy I felt visiting with my new little grandson, I’m still wondering what being a grandma or a “Netta” (yup that’s my name) will be.  What's is my role, my job?  But turning to my own parent’s example, I know a Netta (Grandma) is an entertainer, a comforter, a reliever, a provider, a cheerleader, an optimist, a safe-haven.  Today’s Sweet Fringe Benefit is knowing I can do that. 

Outfit of the Day:  This outfit is a bit out of character for me...matching the pants and the jacket.  Loft Mushroom velvet blazer, Loft coral pleated shell, Worthington damask mushroom pants, Bandolino snake skin pumps, Emaack Designs multi-strand necklace, zebra skinny belt.  

Another Outfit of the Day:  Loft deep teal cardigan, Banana Republic white blouse with black piping, Joe Fresh black polka dot jeans, Emaack Designs Tiger Eye necklace, B.Makowsky brown shooties, cheetah print belt.  I really liked the black and brown together...this tiger eye necklace ties it all together.

As I was standing in the security line this morning, a bit consumed with reflection of my week, I noticed a little boy, about 6 years old.  He was with his mother and 2 siblings. His mother was pointing to something in the balcony behind us.  I was curious, I turned to look as well.  She was pointing to a middle-aged woman that was smiling and waving.  I turned back around to see this little 6 year old just beaming.  He had the biggest smile on his face as he returned a boisterous wave saying, “Bye Grandma!”  It was so tender.  That’s what I want.  I want that smile that will change any teary good-bye in to happiness. 

I’m a Netta…I can do this...

Nanette