I had the great good fortune to have one of my grandchildren live very close to me when she was quite small. In fact, for a time, they lived in my house. G-baby and I were happy with that, but I don’t think anybody else was thrilled. When she was around everyday I was unable to refrain from mentioning her on whatever “social” site I was inhabiting in cyber-space. Obviously that hasn’t changed.
During that time though, when she was always underfoot, what to call her, when referring to her on the internet, was a question. I have always had the sense that the internet is, not only a public place, but a permanent place, where words are “searchable” forever. My personal privacy imperative has caused me to retain an alias that came from the early days of chat rooms and cyber communication. Back then, like CB “handles,” everybody had them. Sometimes they were their CB handles. So, of course, her name was out of the question. What I called her in private wasn’t good either. I called her “Frog Lips”. She called me “Grandma Toad”. Even I can realize how mortifying that would be if it got around school, especially when she’s older. So G-Baby was born.
G-Baby is woman high now and beginning to garner a woman’s shape. Too old for grandma’s lap. Too young to realize how young she is. She doesn’t like G-Baby anymore. She’s asked me not to call her that. Feeling too tired to think up a new name I said, “Ok, we can go back to ‘Frog Lips’.” A resounding “NO!” greeted that proposal.  She hasn’t brought it up again, so far. She will though. Sigh. It’s not my first time around this track. I miss the kind of fun we used to have when she was little.
One summer when she was about 4 we got two pairs of those giant sunglasses. You remember, like those ones that you can win at the carnival? They stick out 3 inches on either side of you head and the lenses cover your face from above your eyebrows nearly to your chin. We wore them in the car. Heck, G-Baby wore hers everywhere she went. We’d roll the car windows down, put on our giant glasses and sing along loudly to the cd of kiddie songs that stayed in the player. We pretty much went everywhere by ourselves that summer. Rarely did anyone want to ride with us. A friend of mine nearly called the paramedics on me at a stoplight one day. It seems that the motions that go to “I’m a Little Teapot” look very similar to a seizure, if a person cannot hear the music or see the child in the car.
G-Baby and her family no longer live nearby. 700 miles away, in fact. This year G-Baby is 12. We are planning a trip to the Grand Canyon, to walk on the Skywalk, a giant, horseshoe-shaped piece of glass that sticks out over the canyon wall. The idea of doing this scares me spitless. Adding insult to injury, the tribe that owns the Skywalk wants the grand sum of $70….EACH, to walk on it. Seems like a lot of money to do something scary. However, it is important to me to make this trip before G-Baby completely outgrows me. It is beginning to look like that will be next year.
G-baby has a little brother. He turned 2 last month. Next summer I’m buying him a pair of giant sunglasses and we’re going on a road trip. I still have mine…… B



  1. April 11, 2013 at 4:06 am

    Very awesome!

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