You knew it had to happen. As the baby boom generation continues its
lifelong parade of self-obsession, marveling at each passing milestone
as if they were the first and only people to achieve them, it was
inevitable that grandparenting, now that the boomers are entering the
60+ territory, would become their frontier and muse.
Some of this is downright terrifying, especially to those who were the children of baby boomers and are now trying to be, you know, parents. As we navigate pregnancy, childbirth, those early infant
days and the growth of our toddlers and preschoolers, the last thing we
need is the presence of our mother or mother-in-law making it all about
her. I mean, heck yes, if your child has a grandmother who wants to
help – from babysitting to pampering the new mom to contributing to the
329 plan – that’s great. But the boomer grandmothers often have a
different agenda. They want complete access to their grandchild,
whether they’re going to help or not. They want to offer endless advice
and expertise, which they somehow think is different than the advice
and expertise that bugged them when offered 30-some years ago by their
own parents (because they think they’re cool, they came of age in the
60s, blah blah blah). They want, at least some of them, a grandmother
shower so that they receive gifts and accolades for an accomplishment
that, somehow, previous generations took for granted.
A new anthology allows these boomer grannies to fully express their
awe and amazement at having reached this point in their lives. Eye of
My Heart: The Hidden Perils and Pleasures of Being a Grandmother comes
out next month, with essays by nearly thirty writers, including
Elizabeth Berg, Lynne Sharon Schwartz, Bharati Mukherjee, and Jill
Nelson. Some are predictably cringe-worthy, as when Anne Roiphe writes
about how she’s learned not to give advice to her daughters as they
raise their babies – as if she deserves a medal for not pointing out
that back in her day, babies didn’t need car seats. But most are very
sweet and a few will take your breath away, as when Molly Giles writes
about visiting her imperious, persnickety niece in Europe. Or when
Susan Shreve describes the time-warping nature of life with small
children, after she takes her grandson Theo for a day:
…I didn’t remember what a whole day with a child was like. The
first day I had Theo to myself in New York it felt like a month. (This,
even though with my own children it seemed as if the whole of their
childhoods from start to finish had been over in a heartbeat.)
Anthology editor Barbara Graham sums it up in a way that made me
wish she were my mother-in-law when she says that her son and his wife
“are writing their own story – and though I’m certain to show up in the
unfolding plot, I am not a central character.” I’m guessing she didn’t
feel the need for a grandmother shower – and I’m guessing she’s a
pretty wonderful grandmother.
More by this author:
Move Over, Booties! Here Come Knitted Boobies
Think Your Baby's Car Seat Is Safe? Think Again
California Daycare Closed; Worker Was Mocking Kids' Genitals
"Angels in Waiting" Apparently Still Waiting
