I realize that I am no where near becoming a grandparent just yet. But after having Kate, and hearing my mother-in-law go through a list of the different grandparent names she liked (and finally deciding on 'Grammy', but not until after I wrote her original choice of 'Mami' in Kate's baby book), I've gotten a kick out of hearing the non-traditional, somewhat unique choices people have made. Granted, most of the time people try to get their children to refer to their grandparents by one name or another, but the truth of the matter is that whatever the first born calls them is the name that sticks.
Growing up we called my mother's parents Grandma and Grandaddy and my dad's parents Granny and Papa. Clearly we were risk-takers.....not afraid to step out of the box. Pshhh.
Now Kate and my sisters' children refer my parent's as Papa and Gaga (pronounced Gogga). The name Gaga sort of just happened. Actually now we simply refer to her as just "Gog". And our children lovingly refer to their great grandmother as just "Great". My family is all about coming up with nicknames and making nicknames out of nicknames....and making shortened versions of nicknames even shorter. For instance, Big Al's son's real name is James Patrick but we have called him J.P. since birth, until about a year or two ago when we just dropped the 'P' and started calling him J. Actually, to disclose the full truth, we originally dropped the 'J' and called him P for a short while until we realized that calling him P wasn't really workin' for him, especially since it got a little confusing during the whole potty-training stage.
Wow. Not only did I chase that rabbit, I killed it.
Sal Gal jokingly says that instead of being called Grandma, she wants to be called Glamma (as in glamorous). I am leaving my options open, as I realize that I have a while to think on it. What unique grandparent names have you heard?
Names are one thing, but have you ever thought about what you might look like as a grandparent? Keep in mind, the way you see yourself may not be exactly what others see, as Kate pointed out to us last week.
The other morning as I was making Kate a bowl of grits, she kept saying, "Paw" (which is what we call M to the Izz-A's grandpa). I looked out the window several times thinking I would see him outside but never did. She kept saying "Paw, Paw" (in her country accent that makes one syllable words sound as if they have two) and pointing, but I couldn't figure out where she was looking, until her little finger touched the box of cheese grits.
She was pointing to this:
I had to tear it off the box because she kept wanting to hold it and carry it around the house. She carried this little picture of 'Paw' around for the majority of the morning. I laughed so hard, especially at the thought of sharing this story with the real Paw. I think he'll laugh at the fact that she sees him as the Quaker Man. I don't think he's gonna see the resemblance.
But to the Quaker Man's credit, he is sportin' some seriously long grey locks, which is rather admirable at his age.