By Marc S. Axelrod

I took everything I knew (absolutely nothing) into being a parent. 

I didn’t do anything special way back then.  Just raised my kids like everyone else.  A boy and a girl.  One of each, as they say. 

No idea what I was doing.  Didn’t even know enough to know I had no idea what I was doing.  Just like everyone else. 

Didn’t matter.  Those kids grew anyhow. 

My wife knew stuff.  Or at least I think she thought she did.  Maybe she did.  I don’t really know. 

Didn’t matter.  Those kids grew anyhow. 

And then after all those years and the things we went through (don’t ask) raising two intelligent, successful humans, the fun really began. 

One of those kids has been making kids of her own.  Two at last count.  And that’s the final count as far as everyone involved is concerned. 

With just a two and a half-year-old girl and a five-year-old boy the house sounds like Yankee Stadium after the Yanks hit a grand slam to win the game.  And that’s when it’s quiet. 

I wasn’t that old when my grandson arrived.  Mid sixties.  When my daughter and son-in-law told us our first grandchild was coming it was honestly hard to digest.  For a lot of reasons.  Good ones and selfish ones, I guess. 

Doesn’t Grandpaw mean old?  Quick, check the mirror.

But he came.  Ready or not. 

Time out. 

While writing this I was informed that my little granddaughter wants to see Ba Ba (me).  And our grandson wants to see Grammy.  Both just got back from day care (what we all call school). 

What was supposed to be a day off just ended.  Here we go into Yankee Stadium.  That’s what grandparents do, drop everything and answer the call of duty. 

Back home.  It was a quick jaunt.  Only two hours because Grammy has a tele-health client now.  Two hours is pretty good.  That’s just usually how much longer we wind up staying than we intend to on any given day. 

We practically live there, what with watching our granddaughter two full days and COVID work restrictions for her mom and dad. 

Plus, those sweet little things love us.  We’re fun.  Not like parents. 

 So where was I?  Oh, yes… 

The point is that you cannot be ready for being a grandparent.  Just like what you went through all those years ago. 

Only this time you know stuff. 

But somehow it seems what we know is slightly out of date.  Like disco. 

Talk to some grandparents and you’ll hear how “those kids” don’t know anything and won’t listen to the tried-and-true way to do things.  They make us do it their way.  Some new idea that came along while we were otherwise engaged. 

Sounds a lot like what happened when we were the young parents. 

In the end it doesn’t matter.  Those kids will grow anyhow.

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