One of my all-time favorite Christmas movies is It’s a
Wonderful Life—a story about George and Mary Baily. A staple of the Christmas
movie classics, it is hard to imagine anyone having never viewed it. Each and
every year I hunker down in front of my tv under a nice cozy blanket and
although every scene is etched in my memory, within minutes tears will be
flowing.
Packed full of life lessons such as marry the right
person, don’t hire someone just because they are family, how to deliver a great
toast, realizing how blessed you already are, and your life has purpose are
just a few of its great sentiments. Each of these messages have had a direct
correlation at some point in my life. Take for instance the old and dilapidated
house George and Mary bought. It’s a real home, crap, home but Mary had the
vision of making a hole in the wall a haven of loveliness. Having lived in and
through six different house restorations, I remember the angst each time the
hubs announced he’d found just the perfect fixer-upper for us to restore! From
trees growing out of the basement entry way to squirrels running around in the
attic, we’d seen it all. But it was he who had Mary’s vision and by the time 15
pails of spackling were sanded down, we’d created yet another beautiful home!
Lines like, “Oh, look at this wonderful old drafty house, Mary!” had personal
meaning with me. But my favorite moment of the movie occurs as the sound of a
little bell rings as Clarence, the angel sent to help George, earns his angel
wings. For whatever reason, I love the symbolism of a ringing bell idea
connecting heaven and earth when significant things occur in our life. How
wonderful it would be to know that our loved ones in heaven were witnessing all
those momentous occasions with us such as marriages, births of children and
grandchildren, graduations and so forth with the sound of the tinkling of a
bell.
Just as when Clarence got his wings, the bell should especially chime for every grandchild born and a new Mimi and Pap are initiated into the Grandparents Club. Whether you are a Mimi, Mema, Nana, GiGi, GoGo, Gamma, Grandma, or ChaCha —it doesn’t matter. There is just nothing in the entire world to compare as your heart is changed forever with just one look at those soft, sweet bundles cradled your arms. Your children having children. Nothing could be more beautiful. And while the parents have the weight of the world on their shoulders to mold these demanding little creatures into model citizens, as tradition requires, the grandparents get a pass. For the first time in your life, spoiling a child is not only allowed, it’s a requirement!
There is just something magical about being able to do everything you’ve always wanted to do for your kids, but wouldn’t dare knowing it would spoil them rotten. The three word that all good parents never use--INDULGE, CODDLE, PAMPER are now every Mimi’s MO. Avocado toast takes on new meaning at the grandparent house—it’s called waffles. Condiments include whip cream, sprinkles, and chocolate chips because there is nothing worse than low blood sugars of a toddler having a meltdown. Mimi’s famous homemade Macaroni N Cheese becomes the staple of every lunch menu along with Bryers all-natural ice cream for dessert topped with “Pream” (whipped cream). Play time covers everything from Ninja wars, Play-do ground into carpets, never again won board games, pushing Little Tyke vehicles around the driveway until you your lungs explode, and napping only when Mimi is finally exhausted by the words, “Again, Mimi, Again”. But the crème de la crème of spoiling… “Mimi, can I have this toy? Yes, you can have that toy. How much is it?!?” Cha-ching!
Though the years I learned from the best and was taking mental notes along the way as to how it was done. Having nine grandchildren to dote upon, my parents took their roles seriously. Upon entering their home, you found the cookie jar was always filled with Oreos and the backup package of Chips Ahoy sat unopened on the baking counter ready for little fingers. Popsicle boxes were squeezed into the freezer beside the thick and ever-growing un-defrosted ice that lined its walls. French onion dip sat on the 2nd row of the fridge just beside the chipped ham. The tall cabinet next to the fridge was filled with every type of box and bag snack imaginable and a few lone pieces of fruit sat on the counter within reach of all, but were never touched by any. I never saw a bottle of juice in their house in 50 years, but pop flowed like lava.
For fun with the grands, my parents invested in two different life long membership passes—Penn Aqua Swim Club and the Pittsburgh Zoo. It did not matter how many times they’d been there, if my parents were babysitting any kids for the day, they went to the zoo. If it was a hot, they went to the pool.
Everybody loved going to Penn Aqua. There were pools for all ages. The main pool, the diving tank and the ever warm- ever pee contaminated baby pool. Just across the walkway from the baby pool, was the blanket space my dad owned for years and everyone knew just where he sat. Along with a bunch of grandkids, my dad hauled along a change jar in his pool bag and all the kids were given full reign to help themselves whenever they wanted a treat from the snack stand. And in between snacks, they swam, got dunked or thrown under the water but no one ever drowned nor wanted to leave.
My parents took the kids to toy stores, dimes stores and restaurants. They read them stories, ground play-do into their carpet, and made crafts. They hugged, cuddled, and loved them unconditionally then sent them back home to their parents. As the holidays approached, my parents sat at the dining room table together and wrapped, and wrapped and wrapped. And then wrapped some more. They loved indulging all the kids, but gifts or no gifts, snacks, candy or not, their grandkids loved them more than anything. And the feelings were mutual.
There is a special bond between a grandchild and a grandparent that can only be understood by them. It has nothing to do with candy, nor presents, or indulgences and everything to do with love. To become a member of the Grandparents Club is one of life’s greatest blessing and if you are lucky enough, you will be blessed abundantly! So, ring the heavenly bell for all to hear as there is nothing better in the whole wide world than seeing them come running up your walkway, outstretched arms yelling, “Mimi! Pap! I’m here!” And with a twinkle in our eyes, and a big grin and a hug, all that’s left to say is …....
WELCOME TO MIMI'S!
Just as when Clarence got his wings, the bell should especially chime for every grandchild born and a new Mimi and Pap are initiated into the Grandparents Club. Whether you are a Mimi, Mema, Nana, GiGi, GoGo, Gamma, Grandma, or ChaCha —it doesn’t matter. There is just nothing in the entire world to compare as your heart is changed forever with just one look at those soft, sweet bundles cradled your arms. Your children having children. Nothing could be more beautiful. And while the parents have the weight of the world on their shoulders to mold these demanding little creatures into model citizens, as tradition requires, the grandparents get a pass. For the first time in your life, spoiling a child is not only allowed, it’s a requirement!
There is just something magical about being able to do everything you’ve always wanted to do for your kids, but wouldn’t dare knowing it would spoil them rotten. The three word that all good parents never use--INDULGE, CODDLE, PAMPER are now every Mimi’s MO. Avocado toast takes on new meaning at the grandparent house—it’s called waffles. Condiments include whip cream, sprinkles, and chocolate chips because there is nothing worse than low blood sugars of a toddler having a meltdown. Mimi’s famous homemade Macaroni N Cheese becomes the staple of every lunch menu along with Bryers all-natural ice cream for dessert topped with “Pream” (whipped cream). Play time covers everything from Ninja wars, Play-do ground into carpets, never again won board games, pushing Little Tyke vehicles around the driveway until you your lungs explode, and napping only when Mimi is finally exhausted by the words, “Again, Mimi, Again”. But the crème de la crème of spoiling… “Mimi, can I have this toy? Yes, you can have that toy. How much is it?!?” Cha-ching!
Though the years I learned from the best and was taking mental notes along the way as to how it was done. Having nine grandchildren to dote upon, my parents took their roles seriously. Upon entering their home, you found the cookie jar was always filled with Oreos and the backup package of Chips Ahoy sat unopened on the baking counter ready for little fingers. Popsicle boxes were squeezed into the freezer beside the thick and ever-growing un-defrosted ice that lined its walls. French onion dip sat on the 2nd row of the fridge just beside the chipped ham. The tall cabinet next to the fridge was filled with every type of box and bag snack imaginable and a few lone pieces of fruit sat on the counter within reach of all, but were never touched by any. I never saw a bottle of juice in their house in 50 years, but pop flowed like lava.
For fun with the grands, my parents invested in two different life long membership passes—Penn Aqua Swim Club and the Pittsburgh Zoo. It did not matter how many times they’d been there, if my parents were babysitting any kids for the day, they went to the zoo. If it was a hot, they went to the pool.
Everybody loved going to Penn Aqua. There were pools for all ages. The main pool, the diving tank and the ever warm- ever pee contaminated baby pool. Just across the walkway from the baby pool, was the blanket space my dad owned for years and everyone knew just where he sat. Along with a bunch of grandkids, my dad hauled along a change jar in his pool bag and all the kids were given full reign to help themselves whenever they wanted a treat from the snack stand. And in between snacks, they swam, got dunked or thrown under the water but no one ever drowned nor wanted to leave.
My parents took the kids to toy stores, dimes stores and restaurants. They read them stories, ground play-do into their carpet, and made crafts. They hugged, cuddled, and loved them unconditionally then sent them back home to their parents. As the holidays approached, my parents sat at the dining room table together and wrapped, and wrapped and wrapped. And then wrapped some more. They loved indulging all the kids, but gifts or no gifts, snacks, candy or not, their grandkids loved them more than anything. And the feelings were mutual.
There is a special bond between a grandchild and a grandparent that can only be understood by them. It has nothing to do with candy, nor presents, or indulgences and everything to do with love. To become a member of the Grandparents Club is one of life’s greatest blessing and if you are lucky enough, you will be blessed abundantly! So, ring the heavenly bell for all to hear as there is nothing better in the whole wide world than seeing them come running up your walkway, outstretched arms yelling, “Mimi! Pap! I’m here!” And with a twinkle in our eyes, and a big grin and a hug, all that’s left to say is …....
WELCOME TO MIMI'S!
Loved the blog Chrissy!!
ReplyDeleteThank you for always helping me get the kinks out, Lizzy!
DeleteYour parents were 💎! ❤️ I hope my kiddos remember the endless tubing, fishing & chicken nuggets! Make that dinosaur chicken nuggets...haha. 🥰😍
ReplyDeleteI know your grandchildren love you to (nugget) pieces! I'm sure if they don't remember the details, they'll remember the love you have for them.
Delete