Out of the mouths of babes
My voice changes when I speak to my granddaughters. Each one calls forth a different version of me. I use a soft, gentle voice with my 4-month-old granddaughter Z. I repeat the sounds she makes, sing quietly to her as I bounce her on my knee, and read her books with animal sounds. She stares at me earnestly and smiles when I repeat her sounds. My 14-month-old granddaughter, H, hears a slightly louder voice from me, full of repetitions and questions. “Is that a puppy?” I ask her as we read a story. “What sound does a dog make?” And then I bark repeatedly. I point out almost everything to her, naming items and often giving short descriptions. She squeals with delight and repeats her version of what I say. Occasionally I can hear the hint of a similar word. And then there is my sassy, inquisitive, 4-year-old granddaughter, C. She is a sponge, absorbing everything. Our conversations make me laugh. Occasionally they bring me to tears as she tries to understand this world with her toddler brain.
I am just off a two-week high - a week of babysitting the two oldest, and then a visit from our youngest daughter and Z. I am exhilarated, filled to the brim - and exhausted! After the first day of babysitting, my husband and I crashed at nine p.m. I crossed my fingers hoping both girls would sleep through the night. They did.
I had a Zoom call with C about a week before her arrival to finalize sleeping arrangements. I asked C where she thought she might want to sleep. A thoughtful pause followed, then “I have a legend!” FYI - a legend in her mind is an extraordinary idea. “I know there are empty bedrooms,” she said, “but it’s probably best if I sleep in my unicorn bed in your room. I don’t like to be far from grown-ups.”
C’s oldest friend is B, the son of a friend of her mother’s. They delight in each other’s company. “I’m marrying B because he asked me,” she has informed me. Now, she is having second thoughts. He may not be her true love. She thinks she might want to be T’s true love. Then she adds: I can marry anyone I want!
She has an uncanny way of listening in on conversations even while focused on her own activities. The adults were talking about a sick uncle when C interrupted. "People go to cemeteries when they're dead," she announced. Apparently she had recently walked through one with her dad. "Dogs can't go into cemeteries," she explained matter-of-factly. "You don't want them digging or pooping on dead people.”
Her face grows serious. She turns to her mother and says she is worried about being alone when her parents die. I explain that most people die when they are very old and she will probably be married and have her own kids by then. “Oh right,” she responds, “I will have my B.”
As my daughter gets ready to leave, she shares that C likes to test the boundaries these days. C, playing with her Magna-Tiles, pipes up - “Yeah, I do! It's part of my nature!”
Tucking her into bed that night, she asks, “Omi, do you know what toxic fumes are?” My heart drops. In language I feel is appropriate for a four-year-old, I give her a simple explanation. I needn’t have bothered, I think I may have confused her. It seems she heard the phrase in the kids’ movie Ice Age, where ‘toxic fumes’ are just laughing gas.
Spending time with a four-year-old means every day brings a new conversation. C shares words of wisdom that I have not given much thought. “Do you know how special you are, omi? You are an omi, a mother, a wife, and a sister - and you have friends!”
The two of us have a special bond, I expect because she is my first granddaughter and we spent a lot of time together before the other two babies came along. C is very concerned about my arthritic knees. She holds my hand when I walk down the stairs. She does the same when we are outside. She associates arthritis with old age. One day she tells me I can’t come with her and grandpa to walk the dog because I am too old. The next day she informs me grandpa is the boss because he is so old!
C is a wonderful older sister to H, who follows her around like a little puppy. When they play, C ensures there are cushions to soften her fall. As H stands on an armchair, C gently lifts her down. “Oh honey, be careful,” she tells H. “You might hurt yourself if you do that.” Her love for this baby, however, only goes so far. When I ask her to take a sniff to see if H has a stinky bum, she responds, with a look of disgust, “No! I’m not a baby person.”
At the end of the week, they head home. Hugs and kisses as they leave. She waves from the car window as they pull out the driveway. C runs into her dad’s arms when she gets home, thrilled to see him. That night at dinner, he asks her, “Do you think omi misses her girls?” She responds confidently, “Of course she does!!!”
I may be exhausted after two weeks of grandchildren but my heart is full. I am reminded that being an omi is about listening, laughing, answering impossible questions, and seeing the world through young eyes again.
Do your grandchildren surprise you with the things they say? I'd love to hear one of your favourite stories in the comments.
