Happy Birthday, Sweet Grandbaby girl! It is a big thing to turn one! This was written in the Spring, on a day where I got to spend a little time bicycling with sweet blessings.I still don’t have my grandmother name. That is a hazard in a house full of tween to teen to grown up boys who love to torment their mama.
When the boys were little, I’d chase them up the stairs to bed saying I was going to spank their babushka – a fun name for, ahem, the gluteus maximus, or, since my boys weren’t allowed to say it but could spell it, their b-u-t-t.
One day, my daughter-in-law who had spent time ministering in Romania heard me chase the boys upstairs saying, “I’m going to spank your babuska.” She asked my son, “Why does she want to spank her grandmother?”
Babushka is apparently the name for gramdother in Romania.
My boys think it would be a hoot for my grandmother name to be Babushka.
A grandmother I am, without a name yet, but, the other day, I got to be me being a grandmother. Learning to be who God created me to be in all that I do – that is a big thing for me – a learning-to-be-fearlessly-me thing. I am that way about all the roles I am – at least that is what I have learned. The more I live a role, the more I allow me to be in the role. I don’t think I could do that without God in me helping me do that.
Baby girl and I played – and in the playing, I wove one of my not quite a story, not quite a poem, not yet a song – but one of my not-writings. I wove it into my previous post, but the moment was just so special, I wanted to frame it in itself, too.
It was a moment where I felt comfortable in this grandmothering, felt like maybe I could be this role gracefully.
I took sweet baby girl on a bicycle trip. Won’t you join us?
Bicycling with Ava
Let’s go on a bicycle trip, you and I
A rambling bicycle trip ,
down a country road beside a playful stream
A stream where you climb off your bicycle
fling your toesies and feetsies in the water
at minnows and tree leaf reflections
With your feet cooled,
You bicycled to town,
around curvy roads
up hills down to the market square
where thirsty you ordered a juice smoothie
A mango and carrot juice smoothie
That turned your nose orange
Surprised by the orange of your nose
you climbed back on your bicycle
to the hat shop
to buy a hat to hide
Your orange nose
A BBBllluuuueeee hat? I asked.
“A piiiinnn-k hat?” I queried.
Her brow furrowed.
She broke eye contact
So a blue hat we bought
for her bicycle ride out to the countryside
In the countryside,
by Holstein-Friesian black and white cows
And thought how yummy in her tummy
Would a glass of creamy, whole milk be
As she drank long of her milk purchased
A cow came up behind and lowed and mooed
and surprised she took off on her bicycle
The waning day grew chilled, bbbrrrrrrr
chilled enough to stop beside
a flock of sheep, to pull pull pull
some pink wool
into a sweater
shoo shoo shooing away the evening chill
In her new sweater, all pink and wooly
She pedaled on, pedaled on
Sleepy and tired
Until a gaggle of geese waddled
Into the path,
as she plucked 10 feathers
And stuffed them into a pillow case
For a feathered pillow
Climbing on her bicycle,
where she rested
her head on her feather pillow,
Wrapped in a wooly pink sweater
Wearing a blue night-cap
with a tummy full
of juice mango smoothies and fresh milk
close her eyes
Thank you for joining us in our bicycle adventure! I hope you enjoyed it as much as we did!
“And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them” (Mark 10:16)