Grandma’s Lap

I’m in the fortunate position among grandmothers of living close enough to my grandchild, Brandon, so that when he’s a little sick and can’t go to day care then he comes to my house for the morning. This isn’t altogether pleasant because a sick child can be a very fussy child. But a sick child is also a child that appreciates a big soft lap and that’s something I possess.

What is the difference between a Mom’s lap and a Grandma’s lap? Let’s face it, grandmothers – even lively, active grandmothers like me – do more sitting than the usual mom. For one thing we usually have less to do – less shopping, cleaning, cooking, working, partying than we did when we were mothers twenty years before. Also we enjoy sitting. What greater pleasure is there than being seated in a comfortable chair and watching your grandchild run circles around the room in a constant beam of imaginative activity? What greater pleasure than being ready and willing when that somewhat weary child seeks refuge in your warm lap for five, ten minutes or – the bliss of it – when he or she falls asleep there for forty.

I consider my lap to be a safe and solid platform from which Brandon can go and come in his unending explorations of the world. My lap is the base camp from which he can explore the Mt. Everests of his moment-to-moment existence. Nothing can be more important, in my opinion, than this secure post that serves as the eye of the storm in the midst of the hectic, bewildering flux and flow that exists all around him. On a daily, almost hourly basis, Brandon is thrust hither and yon from household to household; from home to car and car to car; from home to daycare, to supermarkets, stores, restaurants and doctor’s offices in what must seem like an endless array of changing locales that he has no control over. Sometimes the changes are so frequent, the child doesn’t know where he will be putting down his head at night or who will be waking him up from a nap.  I like to think that my lap is like a mobile nest or haven – available and secure ­– whatever the circumstances.

As I’ve said, the satisfaction is mutual. Who wouldn’t want to hold a small warm body on your lap, a small person who relaxes into you with utter trust and the confidence that you will always be there for them – although they don’t think in terms of “always,” they think in terms of “this moment” –  it’s only this moment that’s counts. My favorite moment is right after his evening bath, when he’s wrapped in a towel, still warm and lulled by the water, and happy to cuddle and be still while grandma strokes his silky back.

More and more often these days we read together. From the time when Brandon tried to pick the ball off the page, he now relishes illustrations from coyotes to crocodiles. Sometimes, though, he gets aggravated that grandma and grandpa sit too long reading the newspaper and forces us to put the paper down for us so we can do something more active. And why not? Brandon insists I get up and chase him around the kitchen table or play hide and seek in the closet or another game we call “search and rescue” where one of us falls down on the carpet, calling loudly for help and the other tosses a life-line (dog leash) and drags the beleaguered soul to safety. On the other hand when I need help, he happily assists with chores, putting the silver back in the kitchen drawer, feeding the cat, scooping out birdseed for the birdfeeder and doing any task that arise.

Though I relish all opportunities for us to do stuff together for it always slows me down and forces me to focus on the moment, I especially appreciate the full stops. Recently, I sat with him on my lap for over 30 minutes as a “plate-holder” – both of us getting stickier and stickier–as he carefully chewed every bit of a waffle coated with honey. What greater luxury is there for him or me than this moment of concentrated repose?

Indeed it’s satisfying to make the world safe for one child when you know there are so many – millions – for whom the world is a hostile place.

For years I tried to provide a safe haven for children neglected by the world ­– foster children, orphaned children. I believe I was successful in only the most limited way. The stays with these children were far too tenuous; the children were so damaged to begin with and my efforts were fraught with my own insecurities and fears. It’s upsetting to realize how little impact we can have on the unfortunate, bruised children of this world. I always admire the valiant people­– foster parents, adoptive parents, people serving children in orphanages throughout the world, people aiding runaways, homeless kids, the disabled, mentally ill, the list is long–who continue to make the effort.

The chances of succeeding with this child, my grandchild, are much. For one thing, I’m not alone in my efforts­–he’s surrounded by a battery of loving adults, parents, other grandparents. His world is many times blessed.

My belief is that years after Brandon’s passed the age of wanting to sit in grandma’s lap, he will still feel in his bones that sense of comfort and ease, of love and kinship, that sense that the world is a safe and good place to be.  ##

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Brandon’s Bench

In sports vernacular, the “bench” is the lineup of players who are waiting on the sidelines ready to assist the players in the field. If the bench is “long and strong”, for example, it means that the team has a number of able backup players who can take over if a basketball player fouls out or a football player gets hurt.

As regards my grandson, I think of his “bench” as the team of family members who are ready and able to assist him grow and thrive. In addition to his parents, Brandon has four grandparents who belong on his squad. Like team players we each have our individual strengths and aptitudes. And each of us plays a different role in his life. I have developed names for these roles which begin with a capital letter like Major Arcana cards in the Tarot deck.

There’s grandmother Barbara, the Artist. She is painstaking and organized. As an artist, she’s also very material and fabric-oriented. She has carefully shown Brandon how to use a brush and paint and crayons and chalks. She introduced him to colors and to the feel of paint; how to draw and to cut with a scissors, to understand circles and triangles and squares. I can imagine in the future she’ll teach him how to use posterboard, construction paper and glue. She’ll work with him to design elaborate science fair projects, history posters and time-lines. Barbara is also the most technology-adept of the crew so she’s already got the kid fluent on mouse and IPad. And, finally, she constructed the most adorable Halloween costume ever – a Thomas the Train outfit that he can enjoy more and more as the years progress.

Another valuable member of the squad is my husband, the Inventor. Ever since Brandon has been in our family, my husband has been coming up with innovative ways for the child to play. For example, somewhere we found a little canvas seat that clipped onto the table. We were planning to use it as a highchair but it didn’t work well in that role. So Jake re-purposed the chair into a swing by attaching it to chains and hanging it from a portal. Another amazing invention occurred with a baby play saucer. When it outlived its original use, Jake put the contraption on wheels so that it could be pulled down the sidewalk. A short-lived but unforgettably wild experience for a child.

My role is special as well. I am the Explorer. From the very first, Brandon ahs had an intrepid desire to traverse new territory that I greatly admire. Even before he could walk, I carried him around so he could touch leaves and flower petals; watch bees buzz and blow away feathery dandelion seeds. As soon as he could walk, we began to trek across fields, scamper up rocky slopes and wade in cold streams. We wend our way through grasses and over ant-hills; jump across or into mud puddles and stir up dried leaves. We study every critter that crosses our path including ants, dung beetles, honey bees, lizards, and snakes. ‘nake was one of his very first words. He’s familiar with birdwatching binoculars though he usually peers in the wrong end. Our greatest delight is exploring the wide arroyo formed by the Santa Fe River – a fantastic area filled with sand and boulders and rocks of every size that changes character in every season so there’s always something new to examine, to feel, and to hurl.

The grandparent making up the final four is Tom who I call the Guardian. He’s the grandparent with the most experience because he’s had twice as many children as the rest of us. So there’s nothing going on with Brandon’s physical, mental or emotional life that appears strange or difficult to him. He is willing and happy to deal with it all. Also, because of a former tragedy in his family life, Tom is the most vigilant. He offers that secure anchor that a child always needs and appreciates even when he rebels against it. Tom is sort of the rock that the rest of us lean on as well to gain the confidence that Brandon is on track and happy.

Of course no team is possible without a lead player and obviously that’s Mom. Brandon’s mother plays both the indispensable role of Teacher and Captain. She’s the one that teaches him to be polite and say words like “please,” “thank you,” “you’re welcome” and so forth. She initiates all important new behavior like his getting dressed on his own and learning to be potty-trained. She patiently teaches Brandon to express himself when he’s upset and not to just whine and cry. Plus as Captain, she’s the disciplinarian. The rest of us are often apt to let Brandon have his way – he’s a stubborn little kid. But not Mom – she insures that he behaves appropriately in most situations.

And, finally, last but not lease there’s the Playmate who happens to be Dad. Ever since Brandon was born, my son has been a devoted father who loves to play with his son. They have such fun together it’s a constant delight to watch. Whether they’re making up silly games like jumping and falling on the bed or a hundred variations of hide-and-seek or blowing immense bubbles at the Children’s Museum or Dad tossing him in the air and catching him at the swimming pool or letting Brandon ride round and round on his bear-like back, there’s no end to the laughs between the two of them which feeds everybody’s enjoyment.

Of course all of us play numerous other roles. We’re all the Clown, doing unbelievably silly things to amuse Brandon and ourselves. We’re all the Coward as he bullies us into getting an extra piece of candy. And we’re all the Lover because we love that boy to pieces. What’s most important, however, is that we’re all playing on the same team with the same goal in mind.

In my opinion, having a strong bench is key to a happy childhood. I really feel for any parent who has to do it all – can you imagine having to pitch, bat, catch and run to all the bases in any game? Fortunately nowadays there are more grandparents and others who want to join in and spread around the joys and challenges of raising a child. ###