When I first became a grandmother in 2023, I was 70 years old. My son Marlon had a son of his own, and even though I wasn’t the type of mom who aspired to be a grandma, I was so happy.
But it quickly became clear that I was stepping into uncharted territory. As for how they got pregnant and started raising children, I didn’t really follow the hippie-punk path. They were consciously well-informed. I think I was able to take two NCT classes. My son’s partner Lina had a birth doula. I read a book called The Birth Experience by Sheila Kitzinger published in 1962. They read a lot of parenting books, like Philippa Perry’s recent book Every Parent Should Read.
And I wasn’t able to be present during the birth. My partner (not my son’s father) and I celebrated his 80th birthday, my 70th birthday, and our 10-year relationship with a weekend festival in North Wales. I’ve been planning it since last year. My grandson, Santi, was born in London when we were there. Lina and Marlon were very understanding about this, but I was worried that I would miss this big event and ruin the beginning of my role as a grandmother. I felt guilty for not being around Marlon like Lina’s family was.
Watching him eat reminded me of the canned spaghetti that Marlon was so proud of eating.
When I finally met my grandson, I realized that I don’t like small babies. They are very sensitive creatures and I was afraid of doing something wrong. Lina and Marlon tried to support me with basic things like changing diapers, but at times I felt as if they didn’t trust me. Then I felt inadequate. So I ended up doing less than I wanted to do.
Lina’s mother seemed to know exactly what she was doing and sprang up at the right time with cooked food and diapers. During that time, Santi’s parents have to constantly shush me because I’m forever fussing, threatening to disturb the sleeping baby, and missing messages not to ring the doorbell. did.
And my ideas about parenting didn’t match theirs. Back in the ’80s, we didn’t use white noise to put our babies to sleep, we popped Moses Baskets in the middle of crowded restaurants or parties and expected them to integrate into our lives. Ta. It wasn’t the other way around. The focus now was on incorporating Santi into the routine. I thought they were reading too many books, but I was surprised that they seemed to barely remember what I used to do.
A small battlefield formed, culminating in an uncomfortable attempt to explain and understand each other’s point of view.
But the real lightbulb moment came when Santi was eight months old, after his parents went to Colombia for a few months. I was all for it. I love traveling as an education. And they came back very relaxed. A new flexibility arrived, brought in part by long treks, such as crossing a river with Santi on his chest in a baby carrier. Next, I began to understand and respect some of their parenting philosophies. How and why they were feeding him the food they had eaten in Colombia, wonderful fruits like soursop and dragon fruit, rather than jars of puree from the supermarket. Mainly that they were keeping him off sugar and salt. As I watched Santi eat, I remembered the canned spaghetti that Marlon was so proud of eating.
I loved how Lina spoke only Spanish to him so that he would be bilingual. And how they act while saying “yes” and “no.” They don’t avoid saying no to their son, but they explain why they say no. It involves negotiation. This is kind, thoughtful parenting, and I wish I could have been more like that. Especially the understanding Santi shows when he doesn’t want to do something. By doing so, I stopped questioning my parents’ parenting so much and continued to do so.
Looking back, I began to see that some of my new parenting methods had benefited me all along. For example, I was so touched that Lina and Marlon shared their pregnancy news before their “traditional” 12-week scan. I wanted my grandparents to feel like they were part of the process. When I was pregnant, I waited because I thought my mom didn’t want anything to do with it.
I’ve found that whenever a new form of parenting is introduced, it doesn’t just prompt us to reflect on our own parenting, it also subconsciously feels like an attack on it. It is no wonder that such tensions arise during this critical period of transition.
Gradually, my hippie-punk parenting style gave way to that of a modern, curious grandmother. After 14 months, I am listening to my son and his partner more than ever before. After all, they’re doing the research and talking about it, so that’s the bare minimum.
Lately, I’ve become immersed in all the different sounds that Santi makes, and I’ve begun to distinguish the layers of desire and pleasure within them. There’s a bang, a bang, and it’s a cry of wanting it now. I was about to declare it a “bad sound” when my hand flew to my mouth. Let’s talk less – that’s my modern grandmother’s motto.
Rose Rouse is editor and co-founder of Advantages of Age, a social enterprise that challenges media stereotypes about aging.
