In the battle for my grandkids’ affections, I’m playing to win
By Judith Viorst
No Ordinary Grandma
SO I’M AT THIS New Year’s Day
party listening to my friend
I am astonished. Maybe even en-
chanted. But what I’m mostly feeling
is…competitive.
This is not a nice emotion to experience. A better person than I would
surely eschew such competitive feelings. But I haven’t. Nor have most of
the grandmothers I know.
Even if we are known to be basically modest, even if, as mothers, we
refrained from shamelessly bragging
about our kids, we grandmothers
feel entitled to inform the world that
our grandchildren are not merely
extraordinary but…the most extraordinary. And if another grandmother
is one-upping us in the extraordinary
contest, we one-up right back.
I, for instance,
wasn’t able to
counter Ellen’s
report with my
own Smartest in
Art grandchild
story, but with a deft
segue I shifted the
category to Most
Profound, recalling
the morning that
my Olivia and her
cousin Nathaniel
were playing word
games. Nathaniel
had proudly printed
his version of the
short form of tele-
phone—FONE—on
a piece of paper, and
when Olivia crossed it out and wrote
PHONE, he was cranky, insisting that
her weird spelling was wrong. Olivia,
four months older than Nathaniel,
Adapted from
Eye of My Heart:
27 Writers Reveal
the Hidden
Pleasures and
Perils of Being
a Grandmother,
edited by Barbara
Graham, to be
published by
HarperCollins
in April.
listened to him holler for a while and
then declaimed, from her vastly superior fund of life experience, “
Nathaniel, in this world, things aren’t always
what they seem.” I rest my case.
I’m also hoping
to win in the Most
Adored Grandmother
category, though I’m
finding it hard to one-
up my friend Irene,
(I, too, could claim that tears have
been shed when I’ve said goodbye to
my Colorado grandchildren, Bryce
and Miranda. But then I’d have to
acknowledge that the tears being
shed aren’t theirs—they’re mine.)
Competition for Most Adored
Grandmother seriously heats up
when grandmothers compete for the
affections of the same grandchildren.
Yes, fond though we may be of the
other granny, and glad though we may
be that she loves our grandchildren,
and resigned though we may be that
they love her back, we are hoping they
love us more. A whole lot more.
Now, it’s embarrassing to admit to
such ungenerous feelings. It’s embarrassing to be secretly assessing the
assets of our competition. And yet…
we’re assessing.
This granny always buys them
lavish presents. That granny lives
near Disney World. This granny has
purple-streaked hair and is really
cool. That granny takes them ice-skating. “So how was your weekend
with your [ glamorous, cool, ice-skating ] grandma?” I asked Olivia.
“Awesome!” was her exuberant reply.
“Except when it was Sunday and she
had to go back to Michigan.” I decided not to ask if that made her cry.
I’m giving some thought, however,
to taking up ice-skating. ;
JOYS “R” US
Viorst with
grandchildren
Toby, Olivia,
and Isaac.
Judith Viorst is the author of many
books for adults and children.
