Oh, my Googs ♥︎
There is this little human, this incredible little human being, who has my heart.
There's this thing, or rather, there's this time in life when one has the honor of becoming a grandparent.
Oh yeah, blah, blah, how cliche is that?!? But really, I understand that aging is not to poo'd-poo'd and that in the past I have only done so because I wasn't there yet, in life, OR in mental capacity. Sadly.
I feel that as a youth, I was shallow. I based life and the value of life on physical objectives, like beauty and smooth skin and build and grace and scent and dear gawds, even teeth (I've always been funny about teeth). As a youth, I was disconnected from the aspect of aging, like, it was so far in the future that I could not fathom it.
My mother was aging and I did not consider her particularly beautiful because of that, same with both of my grandmothers. My grandfathers were more formidable; age did not seemingly deteriorate their worth and presence of strength, in the eyes of the youthful me.
Wow... that REEKS of social sexism! So often society views woman as man-objects with their worth being based on their perceived and subjective beauty. When that's gone (beauty and sexiness), a woman is less valuable... sadly, her mind is still intact, but why does that matter? Oh boy. I could rant about this for hours, but I will not... not here in my post about precious Googs ♥︎.
How very narcissistic humans are, really, by nature... how collectively UN-insightful humans are as well.
Anyway, so, if you haven't noticed by now, I go on, quite often, about aging, and I have no problems voicing my insecurities about that occurrence. Sometimes I feel that in acknowledging what we fear, and voicing that fear (whether it be out loud or to an empty room, or to the random cat or dog on the bed, or to the hubby that is clearly experiencing his own battle with aging, or to the reflection in the mirror), we gain power and dignity to face it... to face that thorn-in-the-side, nagging, unspeakable, debilitating, desperate fear OF AGING.
So then I became a grandma.
After having three children of my own, I have not been able to fathom having more heart to give, or adoring other little humans as much as I do them. But I DO have more heart to give and I AM capable of adoring other little humans, just as much, in this surreal, strange, magical, powerful and TOTALLY relaxed manner! Like, I LITERALLY have all the answers now... to child rearing and most of those answers have the same common denominator:
Savor, appreciate, and SERIOUSLY don't fret the tiny things!
For example, as a young mother, I was uptight about my children eating, especially my oldest. He was finicky and I was worried that he'd starve, right before my very eyes! When I introduced him to spoon feeding, he did not want anything to do with it; he liked ba and cereal ba. Oh my, I was so stressed out about this! I would sit down daily and try and try and try to get him to eat the nummy deliciousness of Gerber from a tiny, rubber-coated spoon, but NOPE. He would cry. And when he'd open his mouth to cry more, I'd slip the spoon in his mouth! What kind of idiot was I? Seriously, first, he could have aspirated, and second, how did I think that slipping food in his mouth while crying would make him want to be spoon fed at all? Ohdeargawds what a moron I was.
Now, of course, I know better. I know that those precious little ones will eat when they are hungry and they certainly won't starve before my very eyes...
Oh, my Googs ♥︎
That sweet, little baby eats just fine. Her momma blends up those little carrots and avocados and zucchini and potatoes (in the Baby Bullet! which is totally unnecessary but ridiculously adorable, what with its little smiling blender faces and what-not, making everything that the Googs ♥︎ momma does that much more adorable), portioning them adorably in freezer-safe containers getting them ready for the Googs ♥︎ belly.
Sometimes Googs ♥︎ will growl while she's eating. We haven't figured out yet exactly why. Possibly because she's hungry and therefore eats the potatoes or carrots but really she would prefer the peaches? Or bananas? In any case, it's silly funny. Googs ♥︎ is so full of personality, but really, what little human isn't?
When she was brand new, she developed her trademark cry, and actually, it was more bitching than crying. She would throat-whine, and make a face and the sounds she made came out sounding like, "Goog." Yes, so now she's Googs ♥︎.
I am crazy in love with her and just thinking of her pulls at my heartstrings. She's precious and her little, chubby skin is so soft, and her little hazel eyes are so inquisitive, and her fat little toes are attached to the chubbiest, cutest feet! Her little fingers (that so resemble her mamma's!) are precise and dimpled and are purposely reaching for everything, while she "googs" and "dah-dahs" and shrieks in delight about all the simple things in this big, big world!
She sucks on her bottom lip and I imagine that by now she is getting familiarized with the feeling of the one, perfect little tooth that is busting through her little gums. Sometimes she'll smile around the lower lip sucking, and sometimes she'll just stare at whomever... like they've lost their mind.
She's Googs ♥︎ and she's perfect.
Until her, I rolled my eyes when grandmas would speak of their little grand-babies, how useless and pointless, I would think, to be a grandmother. After all, being a grandmother means you've gotten old, lost your human importance, and cease to matter to the rest of society. That may be true in the eyes of many youths, but I am working on not caring about that anymore because I matter to Googs ♥︎.
Rock on, Grandmas of the world! Rock on! It's an honor to grow old and achy and wrinkly and chubbier and crankier and itchier and watch your loved ones love their loved ones... ♥︎
I feel as though it's an honor to have reached the point in life where I can pass my wisdom on to my baby-girl, as she raises HER baby-girl. I hope that in sharing what I've learned with her, she will be more able to relax and enjoy and not FRET!
I ♥︎ Googs.