Envisioning Grandparenting to Create a Magical Childhood
Growing up, my father was a disciplinarian. Although he never struck us, he threatened us with his belt or the pida, a Polish paddle defined as a wooden handle with leather straps. Again, he never hit us, but we were not allowed to defy the rules of the house. I grew up in a strict Polish Catholic environment, with thoughts of breaking the rules were not tolerated. However, our home was filled with unconditional love. But after becoming an adult and having kids of my own, the dynamics changed. No longer was my dad concerned about spilling milk or calling my sister a pig. He was the fun grandfather, with continual pranks and antics developing a close relationship with his grandkids. This role of grandparents is what I would like to be when the grandkids arrive.
Early on, my dad would gladly carry his grandchildren around the house, pointing out different items' names to expand their vocabulary to assist with their child development. The prank, however, was humorous. He intermittently would shake his head No, up, and down, which should have represented Yes. And then, he would shake his head side to side and say, Yes. This amusing change in the truth of mannerisms brought a quizzical look to his young grandchildren until it did not. Our middle son, advanced beyond his inexperienced eyes of a six-month-old, did not question the oddity but cried at the confusion. Our young son knew something was not right, and immediately, then and there, grandfather's prank stopped. My lesson learned was even though jokes to young children might be humorous, the intent was to bring wonder and magic to the world, not confusion. My dad's intention was not evil but meant to be whimsical. I took note of the lesson and plan on whimsy, not misunderstanding in learning with my future grandchildren.
The type of whimsy I would like to perpetuate is with our beloved marshmallow bush. Every morning beginning in spring, grandfather would make sure there were marshmallows on the garden bush for the kids to pick during the grandkids' visit. Magically pink, green, and blue marshmallows would bloom on the tree ripe for young children to pick. Yes, ants may have invaded the soft pillows of sweetness, but like any other edible garden fruit, the kids brushed off the nuisance and ate the sweet treat. The magic of grandfather's garden marshmallow bush is remembered by all grandchildren even today.
But there were other magical times invented by my father to engage in children's play. Our boys enjoyed digging with their trucks getting dirt on themselves and everywhere else. His idea was to give them a purpose. When they dug a hole deep enough, he mischievously put eggs in the dirt. Although they were regular grocery store eggs from the refrigerator, the story evolved into dinosaur eggs that were cold and needed to be warmed to hatch. The excited grandchildren snatched the eggs gently from the hole to place them in the oven for warmth. With the oversite of their grandfather, they patiently waited for dinosaurs to hatch. Curious neighbors came to see the event, but grandfather assured the young children that they too could dig deep into their garden to find their dinosaur eggs. Our neighbor's parents quickly came to inquire about the excitement. Fortunately, they went along with the mystery of the dinosaur eggs that never did hatch.
Not all of the eggs at grandfather's house were intended to hatch. During the Easter holiday season, brightly colored eggs filled with treats dangled from their oak tree's barren branches. Inside the plastic eggs contained treasured jellybelly, jellybeans. Most of the candies were deformed since they purchased them in bulk from the nearby Jelly Belly factory's store, which carried the rejects. As the children carefully tasted the delicious treats, they tried to guess the flavors. Analyzing their color did not give the flavor away since a white jellybean might have a coconut or sour milk taste. The tutti-frutti colorfully speckled bean might also taste like stinky socks. Who was brave enough to enjoy a treat or experience the unknown taste that might await inside the egg?
The activities that my parents did with their grandkids were brilliant but also had some unforeseen consequences. One time when they were babysitting the boys, they decided to buy a disk sled. Since they only raised mild-mannered girls, the thought of various uses didn't come to mind. The boys, however, conspired toward an indoor version. Caught off guard, the oldest flew down the stairs in their new toy, a disk sled, aka stair sled. Although no emergency room visits were required, the sleds were quickly accosted for only outdoor play.
But as I reflect on some of the creative antics my parents played with the grandkids, I wonder which ones I will pass down to my grandchildren. I plan to skip the yes/no confusion and the sled fiasco, but I plan to continue the dinosaur egg hunt. With our farm having 280 acres to dig around in, my only restriction would be not to dig in the cow cemetery, or they might get a surprise. Hanging plastic eggs filled with jelly belly treats would be easy to continue, but I would also like a new tradition to pass along.
With all the snow we experienced this year, getting out of the house for a good old fashion snowball fight would be fun but not very magical. However, I did come across a Winter Snow Toys kit where you could build penguins and heart shapes in the snow. Maybe hang the hearts from the tree for Valentine's Day? Or use the penguins to decorate with bird food to feed the large array of wildlife around the property. We could then sit by the fire and watch from afar the birds, squirrels or even a black bear enjoy the winter treat.
Since we live on the historic family property, I often think of telling tall tales about ancestorial ghosts. Although some young kids might be intrigued, others might be spooked, not wanting to return to the farm for a visit. Maybe sharing the tale of the Indian village that was located just beyond the creek would intrigue the old and young to be keeping an eye out for Indian fossils and maybe a distant ghost or two.
Since I have time until the little grandbabies arrive, I can dream up all kinds of magical activities to share with them and to save as a resource for grandparents. The objective is to create a sense of wonder and joy, much like the marshmallow bush did with my kids. It was a bonding time with grandfather. The one thing I know for sure, there are marshmallow bushes somewhere on our property waiting to be picked by little munchkins.
How do you plan on bonding with your grandchildren as well as your adult children?
