Question… what makes babcias and busias tick? Answer… the little ones. Babcia, busia, either way you address us, we are grandmothers. We love our children, without a doubt. We adore them always. But then one day that child has a child and BOOM… a switch goes off some place inside and we become crazed SUPER-mamas who want nothing more than to be near our child’s child and to lavish them with gifts and love. It’s a curse and a blessing, depending on the day and who you ask.

As mamas, we raised our children to the best of our abilities. We loved them, still do love them of course. We watched their activities, hanging on the edges of our seats. We cheered them on in every endeavor. We read to them, we sang to them, we played with them. We were learning how to be mama, how to meet their needs while navigating the pathways of motherhood and our own identities, often overshadowed or sometimes even lost a little along the way. We did the best we could with the tools we had, tools that were handed down from our own mothers and grandmothers and their best efforts. We struggled some days, often wondering if we were enough for our dear children. Am I doing or giving enough to this little person? Is he/she getting everything he/she needs from me? Am I setting a good example? Am I giving them enough love to carry them through life and beyond these formative years? Will he/she ever stop crying and just go to sleep?!? The questions never ended, whether they were about our children or about our own abilities as mommy.

Time passes though. The child grows, learns, fortifies, becomes. Some of this is due to the leadership and help we provided along the way, and some of it happens naturally as they venture out and figure it out for themselves, eventually to leave our arms and our driveways and go out into the world as individuals in their own right. There are boyfriends or girlfriends along the way. Some we like, some make us cringe, but each is a lesson that leads our child closer to ‘the one’. Then one day they find that one and their own fairytale begins and life is sweet and promising. In some stories, this leads to the announcement that your little one who is no longer little has their own little one on the way. You have come full circle.

In about a month, my grandson will be one year old. I can hardly believe that a year has passed since that little boy came into our lives. He is our little pudiera (pudding), or as my cousin used to say instead of pudiera… puszka (which means tin can but we just thought it sounded cute so we called all the babies that anyway). He really is half his mommy and half his daddy, as I can see them both in his face. They are wonderful, loving parents and he is a happy and healthy little boy. He smiles, he laughs, and he gets mad. It is when he gets mad, or when he smiles that certain sly little grin that says “I’m about to test you” that I feel closest to him. That’s when I know that he has my DNA. This little kid has a devlish sliver in his soul and it’s straight Busia. He is my heart. His mommy taught me how to love another human being completely unselfishly. His mommy taught me real fear, and worry, and responsibility. She taught me patience. In many ways, she raised me as I raised her. This one though, he has the makings of a true partner in crime. I see lots of fun and trouble and love in our future. Just like his mama and I had once upon a time. We still have it today, it’s just more grown up now. And it’s just as sweet.

That, I believe, is the true magic of being a grandparent. We get to experience our child growing up once more. We get another go-around. It is a gift and a miracle I won’t ever take for granted. Today I started birthday shopping for my grandson. I say started because let’s be honest, it’s going to be several shopping trips and online excursions to find all the perfect gifts for such a sweet, handsome, and deserving little boy. What do you give to the child who has given you everything? Whatever he wants, obviously. I don’t claim to know exactly what a one year old wants, but I’m pretty sure it lights up, makes noise, and maybe moves around on the floor by itself. Or maybe it’s just a cardboard box and some wrapping paper, who knows. In either case, I’ve got him covered. I will always have him covered.