Himself is a Grampy at forty four

So Himself has become a Grampy.

At forty four.

Which makes me a step-grandma.

At thirty seven.

Which is a bit young.

But it's just for the weekend.

Phew!

Kitty has one of those rubber babies home for the weekend. It cries and does all the baby stuff and is supposed to teach her responsible behaviour (which includes not producing a real one I assume) and the stress of parenthood etc.

I'm a mom for the weekend! She announced on the phone.

Granny decided not to travel this weekend and by a serendipitous stroke, is missing the baby.

Hurrah!

Kitty was not appreciative of my glee at missing the baby.

I explained it would be shit if I were there.

Why?

Well, I would just stand looking over your shoulder all weekend telling you that you were doing it wrong.

True, she said.

She wasn't meant to say that out loud of course, but it's true what I said was true, so I shall just have to deal with it I suppose.

I am in two minds about a plastic baby being a contraceptive device, if that is what it is.

Maybe they work.

I think a distinct lack of suitable boys is a far better one myself.

Worked for me when I was young.

Plus the terror.

Of knowing.

That I would have to tell the Queen Parents.

That was the main barrier method in my life.

All the experts tell me that terror is a bad way to rear children.

And it is, absolutely.

But there is nothing wrong with sharing your dreams with your children.

It is the way that you articulate them that is fraught with danger.

That's why it takes a village to rear a child.

My grandchild will be fine tonight so.

Down on the island, with her great grandparents and her uncle and her grandfather.

Who assured me that if it cried during the night that it would get thrown out the window.

I asked him whether he had thought of a name yet.

So he changed the subject.

And told me another story of someone leaving the island.

I wonder why we all move around so much.

We get bored of each other I suppose.

It is the way we live now.

But it is very hard to say goodbye.

And as you get older, it gets harder to say hello as well.

And then Facebook starts making you do it.

Bah.