When I found out I was pregnant it never occurred to me that my age would be an issue– not to me but to others including perfect strangers. At 36 I didn’t think I looked older than my age and certainly not old enough to be someone’s grandma. Maybe it was the few strings of gray hair. Whatever the reason, the first time someone asked if Tyler was my grandson I was taken aback. The fact that the offending knucklehead was drunk didn’t ease the pain. I got mad and then I realized that hey, I am old enough to be his grandmother. And that’s okay.
See, while some of my friends have kids in high school and beyond and some are becoming grandparents, I am just starting out on this great adventure destined to remain younger (at least at heart) than my contemporaries. The second time I was asked if I was Tyler’s grandmother I was standing in line at McDonald’s about two years ago. There was a lady, about my age, in front of me with a child about the same age as Tyler. She kept looking at me and then finally she popped the big question. When I told her no she proudly proclaimed that she, pointing to the kid, was her granddaughter. She seemed so proud that she was a grandmother at such an early age. I decided from that point on whenever I was asked this question, I would proclaim loudly that yes, I was his mother but I was old enough to be his grandmother. This seems to pull the rug from under the jerks who seem like they want to embarrass you. Don’t get me wrong some are simply curious and don’t mean anything by it but others well…
One thing I have noticed lately is that those in the medical profession seem to treat me much better than the general population. I’ve noticed this gentle tone when they speak to me during Tyler’s trips for routine or emergency care. I’m called, “mama” and not once has anyone asked if I was his grandmother.
Sometimes I wonder if people are aware that they are being insensitive. Or maybe I am being too sensitive. I guess it’s no different that a parent with an interracial child or who adopts a child of a different race. I think some people’s motto is “speak first and then think.”
I suppose in the grand scheme of things it really does not matter if people think you are your child’s grandmother. Some people will always look at you and see someone’s who’s too fat, too thin, too old, too black, too white, too gay, too whatever. As long as you are comfortable with yourself and know who you are then it really does not matter, does it?