Thirty
years ago as I gazed into the eyes of my firstborn, the prospect of
grandmotherhood was a mere abstraction. Like most baby boomers in our
mid-twenties I just figured it would happen later, when we’d perfected
the world, and it would be easy.
Well, it’s happened, and
somehow we never got around to perfecting the world. I admit being the
grandparent is easier than being the mama – and I can’t help but feel a
little pang at all the decisions that confront new mothers and
fathers. I’m glad I don’t have to decide paper or cloth, when to wean,
how to find daycare, when to call the doctor, and how to get enough
sleep.
But I find it’s at least as difficult to resist giving
advice and opinions as it was for my own mother. The only difference,
so far as I can tell, is that my advice and opinions are usually more
valid than my mother’s were. I wonder if that could be one of those
boomer phenomena....
Fortunately for me, if not for always for
Baby, I find that growing up in a home where we tried to be attuned to
the natural world has made my daughter, Baby’s mother, more inclined to
value many of the same goals I reached for. Against all odds she
managed to breastfeed while working full-time, found a gentle
responsive daycare provider (no, not Grandma), disciplines rather than
punishes, and persuades Baby to eat good food from the family’s health
conscious table rather than having to settle for processed meals and
supplements.
Did I mention that Baby is doing brilliantly, and his mother is simply splendid?
As
I see it, I play a supporting role, and an important one that comes
with both perks and perils. I am learning that good parenting, like
living green, lasts – and that it requires revisiting, re-evaluation,
and sometimes settling for what we can get rather than what we’d rather
have – and we can usually get better than what we’re offered first time
around.
I’d like to share some of what I’ve learned in Baby’s
first year, and what I learn as time goes on. I’ll start with some
small stuff, like – stuff:
For months we shopped for baby
furniture, baby clothes, baby toys, implements of feeding, bathing,
strolling, hiking, driving and entertaining baby. I say shopped, not
bought, because we found this entire project gave us plenty of
opportunity to learn that what the baby needed and mother wanted were
not always what retailers were willing to sell them.
Furniture,
for instance. We looked at crib after crib, dressers, changing tables,
hutches, cradles, portable beds, high chairs, swings, bassinets, and
all the accoutrements to gussy them up. Where, we wondered, did people
get the money? And where do they put all this stuff? We had endless
conversations over which grandparent or auntie would buy which items,
which were value for dollar spent, which were out of stock, and why the
stuff had to be so big, so expensive, and so tempting – and why so
little was made of certified sustainable wood.
In the end, the
nursery was outfitted with a modest crib that will convert into a
toddler bed in a few months – and the baby rarely sleeps in it,
preferring to cuddle by mother for mid-night nursing. More important
were a healthy mattress and lots of sheets for changing. The dresser
has enough horizontal surface to also be a changing table – though
usually Baby is changed wherever there’s a clear space on a floor or
mattress, and the dresser drawers are never really closed on the dozens
of cute second-hand oufits his mother and her sisters have acquired for
him. But the hours of looking at the stuff that got left behind! The
anguished young parents and grandparents we observed, paralyzed at
decisions about the least-important aspects of bringing home a baby!
Car
seats have improved and models become so numerous that I was relieved
that choosing one wasn’t my responsibility. One even turned up in the
backseat of my compact station wagon without any effort on my part.
When it’s not full of Baby, it’s full of extra gloves or grocery bags
or a small dog. It doesn’t affect fuel efficiency much, but it has
improved and slowed my driving, so it may have a net benefit on carbon
emissions.
The doctor and nurse were selected for their
friendliness to more natural childrearing and childcare practices, and
seemed remarkably like those I’d chosen thirty years ago. They
encouraged carrying the baby, not the bucket of car seat. They
supported the decision to breastfeed for the first year, and helped
with the problem of working while breastfeeding. They gave out
brochures on Snuglis and back carriers and slings. Decisions about
vaccines and antibiotics were, happily, beyond me. When the
pediatrician recommended frozen organic bagels for teething – “why have
them chew on that darn plastic?” he said – I endorsed his position by
bringing the bagels, and looked, if I must say so myself, both
brilliant and humble.
Really, the bagel event was just the
follow-up to a pattern we set early on: my contribution for the first
months was mostly to feed Baby’s mother a couple times a week, and to
make sure that she had healthy, and whenever possible, organic, snacks
and meals available most of the time. The additional thirty cents a
pound for organic bananas was not a hard sell for me; the organic oats
and carrots and hormone-free chickens that challenged a young family’s
budget found their way into my shopping cart and into their pantry and
fridge – or onto the table when they dined at my home or I offered to
bring part of a meal to theirs. When they demurred at the extra cost
of natural cheese or a loaf of organic artisanal bread, I could say
“you’re worth it.”
Every young family is worth it, and we should
show them so. Grandparents (and aunts and uncles) have an opportunity
to help repair the world on behalf of future generations. Over the
coming months I will consider, meditate, gossip about how we can help
young families live in eco-friendly ways and how we can change our own
habits to leave the planet in good condition for our posterity.