My granddaughter, Caedan, calls me Hammy. For nine months while we waited to meet her, I got to choose what I’d be called. I chose Grammy. As soon as she could speak, it was Hammy. We could have changed it back, but why?
Now she’s in kindergarten and nicknames are cool. She’s taken to calling me Ham and I’m calling her Caeds. Occasionally it’s The Ham and The Caeds.
When I go to L.A. to visit, we go to International House of Pancakes on Ventura Boulevard in Tarzana. On the way there, in the car, she likes to talk about the children’s menu. She always orders the same thing, but she likes to talk about it in advance. Sometimes this conversation begins the day before our IHOP date.
“Ham?”
“Yes Caeds.”
“Know what I’m having at IHOP?”
“What?”
“That pancake with the face.”
“Create-A Face?”
“Yes. With the squeezy yogurt.”
“No kidding.”
“First I’m gonna squeeze some of that yogurt in my mouth. Then I’m gonna put some on my pancake.”
“Uh huh.”
“Then I’m gonna eat those bananas and strawberries on top.”
“Right.”
“And then I’m gonna put syrup on it and eat all the rest.”
“Yum.”
“Ham?”
“Yes?”
“Ham, here’s a good idea. Why don’t you have a pancake too?”
“I’m thinking about scrambled eggs.”
“But if you get a pancake like mine then you could squeeze on some yogurt.”
“I think I’ll have eggs.”
“And if you don’t use all your yogurt, maybe I could have it.”
“Tell you what, Caeds. I’ll think about it.”
” Ham?”
“Yes Caeds.”
“Are you thinking about it yet?”
Ó Anita Garner 2009
Marvelous!
Too many parents (and a lot of grandparents I’ve known) never play with children verbally or really talk with them on any level. This sort of playful conversation creates a sense of equality and a bond that lasts forever.
Your stories are an inspiration to all mothers and grandmothers. I totally get how important it is to communicate with small children on their level. I do this often with my own grandson, Connor. He loves airplanes and everytime he hears one go overhead, he runs to me and says, “Grammy, there’s a plane, let’s go outside…hold me up, I hear it! He holds his ear and points to the sky…and says propellor and smoke. So holding him up in my arms, we search the sky for the plane…most of the time not seeing anything because of the clouds, but the sound is there and we wait and watch. It is a special ‘thing’ that he likes to do with me! Awh, the sweet innocense of youthful hearts and precious souls of children. Such small and joyous moments do make lasting bonds!
Love to all,
Auntie Terrill