grandmaschool.com

Tag: family life

  • How Things Have Changed Since Grandparents Were Parents (and How to Keep Up)

    How Things Have Changed Since Grandparents Were Parents (and How to Keep Up)

    Contains affiliate links

    We live in a very different world than when I was raising my kids in the ’90s. Back then, you could buckle a baby into a car seat with one hand, toss them a bag of Cheerios, and call it a day. These days? Oh no. There are entire college courses devoted to the proper angle of a chest clip.

    So much has changed when it comes to taking care of little ones — from car seats that look like they were designed by NASA to toddlers who can swipe before they can talk. Most of these updates are for the better (safety and sanity are good things!), but it can feel like we need a certification just to babysit. So here’s your quick Grandma School crash course on how to keep up.

    🚗 Car Seats: They even have an expiration date!

    Sure, we had car seats in the ’90s — but let’s be honest, some of them looked suspiciously like folding chairs with straps. The rule now? Rear-facing as long as humanly possible. Basically until the kid can drive themselves to college.

    If you’re spending more than an hour or two a week with your grandkids, it’s time to invest in your own car seat. And listen carefully — go to the store and actually try the buckles. I’m not kidding. Buckling one of these things is like trying to fasten a seatbelt on a wiggly octopus. You’ll thank yourself later for finding one you can manage without throwing out your shoulder.

    And here’s my number one, back-saving, sanity-protecting piece of advice: get a rotating car seat. It spins toward you when you’re buckling them in, so you’re not doing a half-yoga, half-wrestling move every time you go somewhere. Yes, they’re pricey — but so was your last chiropractor visit.

    This is the one I have.

    https://mavely.app.link/e/sPzUv1UBRXb

    Bonus Hack: If your grandbaby is still in an infant carrier, get one of those car seat strollers — the kind where the car seat clicks right into a stroller base. That way, you can go from car to store to park without ever unstrapping the baby. It’s like a luggage trolley for humans. Honestly, whoever invented it deserves a medal and a nap.

    https://mavely.app.link/e/0fji6kbCRXb

    Screen Time: My Survival Strategy

    There have been studies coming out the past few years about the dangers of screen time in infants. Their brain development can be altered. However, let’s be honest — screen time isn’t part of my parenting philosophy, it’s part of my emergency plan.

    When I’m outnumbered and out of patience, sometimes the only thing standing between me and total meltdown (mine or theirs) is a screen. Sometimes if I am in a store, a restaurant, or other places that kids commonly have meltdowns, I will pull out a screen.

    I stick with the calm, classic stuff: Super Simple Songs, Daniel Tiger, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and Bluey. They’re gentle, predictable, and don’t make me want to throw the iPad out the window.

    So no, I don’t promote screen time. But I do believe in survival. And sometimes, survival looks like a talking tiger teaching emotional regulation while I finally sit down for five quiet minutes.

    🥕 Snacks: The Organic Overhaul

    Remember when “snack time” meant a sleeve of saltines and a can of 7-Up? Yeah, those days are over. Now every snack is an event. You’ll hear phrases like “nut-free,” “gluten-sensitive,” and “refined sugar alternatives” — all while your grandchild begs for Goldfish and fruities. The rules on food among moms changes daily.

    Don’t panic. You don’t need to own a dehydrator or make homemade oat balls shaped like bunnies. Just check with the parents about any allergies, then find something simple and safe. Applesauce pouches are your new best friend. If the parents want more nutritious snacks, don’t be a brat about it. Have respect for their wishes and put the red dye away. Annie’s brand has some pretty healthy snacks.

    https://mavely.app.link/e/WE9r4VWCRXb

    🌙 Sleep and Play: The Rules Have Rules

    Back in the ’90s, we put babies to sleep however they’d actually sleep. Stomach, side, swing, car seat — didn’t matter. These days, the phrase “safe sleep” has its own legal department.

    Remember when bumper pads were a thing? Like, you HAD to have them. The rule now is flat surface, firm mattress, on their back, nothing in the crib. Not even a blanket. Now the babies are put in sleep sacks. That’s their blanket. Think baby minimalism.

    With that being said, tummy time is also important. I have six grandchildren, and not one of them has ever been on board with it. Every single one acted like I had personally betrayed them the moment I set them face-down on a blanket.

    But as much as they protest, it’s a big deal for brain and body development — it helps strengthen their neck, shoulders, and little baby muscles.

    I just find it ironic that they’re not allowed to sleep on their tummies, but we’re told it’s crucial for them to play on their tummies. Basically, it’s: “Never let them sleep that way! But please, make them suffer through it during waking hours.” Parenting (and grandparenting) rules are wild.

    🩺 The Owlet and Other Sleep Monitors

    https://mavely.app.link/e/ce6aoppIRXb

    This invention is literally a lifesaver. These tiny smart socks and monitors track a baby’s heartbeat and oxygen levels, and alert parents if something seems wrong. One of life’s cruelest turns is the risk a baby faces while sleeping — and that fear is real.

    I personally knew five babies who died from sudden infant death. It’s something that never leaves you.

    Devices like the Owlet don’t erase that risk, but they do help ease some of the worry. It’s amazing how far we’ve come — from tiptoeing in to check if the baby’s breathing, to now being able to glance at an app and see they’re safe. Technology has its frustrations, but this one? This one feels like grace.

    📸 Managing Photos: The Digital Avalanche (and My Photo Curse)

    When my kids were little, we had to buy film, take 24 pictures, and hope one turned out. Now? Parents take 24 pictures of the same moment — just to decide which one has the best lighting. Every blink, burp, and toe wiggle is documented in portrait mode, uploaded to a cloud, and shared with a 47-person family chat.

    I’ll be honest — I have what I can only describe as a photo curse.

    The first time it struck was at Disneyland. I had a brand-new camera, fully charged, ready to capture every moment. The second we walked through those magical gates — click — it died. Just shut off. Never turned back on. So we bought disposable cameras at Disneyland prices (which, if you’ve never done it, feels like financing a small car).

    Then it happened again at the Louvre in Paris. Same story. Walked in, camera stopped working. So instead of photos, we came home with a gift shop book — which, honestly, had much better lighting than anything I would’ve taken.

    At this point, I’ve accepted that managing photos just isn’t my thing. I love seeing my grandkids’ pictures, but I can’t keep up with the nonstop albums and “memories” notifications. Photos stress me out. I’d rather just live the moment — curse and all.

    📱 Posting Photos: The One Rule You Can’t Bend

    You’ve probably heard of social media rules — the ones that say what grandparents can and can’t post online. And here’s the truth: this isn’t a suggestion, a debate, or a “well, I only have a few followers” situation.

    This is a rule.

    You do exactly what the parents ask — every time. No exceptions.

    If they say no photos online, it’s no photos.

    If they say only in private albums, then that’s the rule.

    You might roll your eyes a little, but you follow it.

    So keep learning, and remember: you don’t have to know every rule to be the world’s best grandma — you just have to show up and love them like crazy.

    It’s not about control — it’s about respect. These are their kids, and they’re raising them in a world where digital footprints start before kids can even walk. The parents get to decide what’s shared, not Grandma School.

    And honestly? One less thing for us to manage online sounds great to me.

    🔄 When the Rules Change Again (and They Will)

    Here’s another modern parenting reality: the rules will change — often. What’s “allowed” on Monday might be “absolutely not” by Friday.

    Don’t take it personally. Parents today are constantly bombarded with new information — safety updates, parenting trends, the latest “expert” advice on everything from pacifiers to pajamas. They’re trying to make the best choices they can with what they know today.

    Our job is simple: respect their wishes, every time. Even when it feels inconsistent or confusing. Even when you quietly think, we survived just fine without all this.

    Because what they really need from us — more than advice or opinions — is support. A grandma who rolls with it. Who says, “Got it,” and means it.

    And if tomorrow they reverse course again? Smile, adjust, and remind yourself: we raised them. They can handle this.

    Please comment some of the changes you have seen in child rearing. I would love to hear from you.

  • Minutes That Crawl, Years That Fly: The Not-So-Secret Life of a Full-Time Grandma

    For every grandma who’s ever lost her phone under a pile of toys or wondered how a whole morning could last forever — this one’s for you.

    Being a stay-at-home grandma is a deeply rewarding role, but it’s also isolating, physically exhausting, and often difficult.

    The experience is defined by a strange elasticity of time. The mornings warp and stretch — it feels like a whole day has passed between 9 and 10 a.m. as we build towers, read the same book, and serve the same snack. Somehow, only minutes have gone by.

    Then, when I’m alone, time slips through my fingers. I’ll scroll my phone for a few minutes, and suddenly it’s noon. I can lose an entire hour at Costco, standing in one aisle comparing storage containers I’ll buy but never get around to using.

    The Physical Toll and the Toy Ecosystem

    The older I get, the more tired I feel. It’s harder to keep up, to pick up, and to tidy up. My knees ache when I crawl on the floor, and my back hurts from lifting little bodies that grow heavier every month.

    I used to power through days like this, but now I pace myself. My energy comes in shorter bursts, but my patience runs deeper. I move slower, but I notice more — their sense of humor, their tiny hands, the way time folds itself around these small, ordinary moments.

    “Sitting down to play the game they just invented matters far more than having a clean house.”

    Finding fun things to do is a daily challenge. I gather supplies for a promising activity, convinced they’ll play for hours. Ten minutes later, they’re done, and I’m left with a sticky, glittery mess of shaving cream or kinetic sand.

    Conversely, they’ll find something random — a piece of cardboard with tape stuck to it — and play with it for hours, even days, insisting it comes everywhere with us and rides safely in its own car seat.

    The house feels like it’s closing in on me. There are so many toys. So much gear. Paint, markers, water toys, and stuffies pile up and spread out into countless containers (those Costco bins I mentioned earlier become toy boxes I plan to organize later — and never do).

    Ground-up fish crackers and fruit snacks embedded in the carpet become normal. “Washable” markers that really aren’t leave permanent scribbles on the walls and furniture.

    And then there’s the constant losing of everything I just had — my phone, the remote, shoes, wipes, my water bottle. It’s all here somewhere. It always is.

    Navigating Social Life and New Rules

    Trying to socialize with other parents of young children is a special kind of awkward. Grandmas are a bit invisible at parks and playgrounds, and when you’re trying to help your grandchild make friends, invisibility is an obstacle.

    I push myself. I look for playgroups, go to the park, and show up for storytime, all while trying to quiet the social anxiety that tells me to stay home. I remind myself I’m doing it for their sake. And every once in a while, I meet someone — usually much younger, or another grandma — who becomes a real friend. It’s rare, but it happens.

    Socializing with existing friends is tricky. I always have my little sidekick (or sidekicks) with me. Going to lunch means bringing them along or waiting for a “day off.” And on those days, I usually end up trying to catch up on everything else. There isn’t a lot of room for socializing.

    The rules are also different now. When my kids were little, we thought nothing of leaving a sleeping child in a locked car while we ran in to pay for gas. We didn’t have drive-through coffee shops on every corner. Now there are entire aisles of monitors, specialized sippy cups, and car seat laws that feel like rocket science.

    No bumper pads. No blankets. Tummy time is important — but don’t let them sleep on their tummy. Everything has changed.

    Simple Joys and Self-Preservation

    In the middle of all this chaos, I try to find small ways to keep myself sane.

    My hobbies come and go like Taylor Swift eras — crocheting, audiobooks, and lately, macarons. I taught myself how to make them, and now it’s a full-blown obsession. It’s a finicky craft, and maybe that’s why I love it.

    I’m also learning Spanish to keep my brain from turning to applesauce. Most evenings, my husband and I unwind with reality TV, sinking into our pillows with that quiet, shared relief that comes after a long day.

    The Benefit of Time in a Less Hurried World

    One thing I do have now is time.

    I can sit and hold a child while they listen to music for as long as they want. I can let them dig for treasure in the dirt, get dirty, and live unhurried.

    Time still crawls for me some days, but I know they’re blessed by this slower rhythm — one my own children didn’t always get to have with me.

    The Two-Fold Love

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    I also have grandchildren who live far away — the ones I don’t get to see nearly as often as I’d like. I watch them grow through photos and FaceTime calls and carry a quiet guilt, knowing I give more of myself to the ones who live close simply because I can.

    Traveling alone is difficult for me, so I pour into the ones I’m with every day. When I do see the others, every moment feels like a gift.

    It’s hard to reconcile these two kinds of relationships — one lived daily, the other from a distance — but all of them are loved fiercely.

    “Two kinds of love: the daily kind, and the distant kind. Both deep, both real.”

    A Slow, Messy Miracle

    image_b881eeac-9bc4-413e-b4cb-56a09deb01eb

    I have the sacred privilege of a front-row seat to watch these children grow up — to see their imaginations and personalities take shape in real time. I can’t think of anything else that would bring me this much joy or contentment.

    It’s a sacrifice of my time. The days can be difficult. I dream of doing things I enjoy without kids attached to me. The mornings crawl. The tired sets in. The boredom screams. The muscles ache.

    Bluey plays on a loop long after the toys are put away — the soundtrack of a life both exhausting and beautiful.

    And yet, when I look back, I see it for what it is — a slow, messy miracle. Worth every long, daunting, beautiful second.

    To spend my days in the thick of childhood one more time with the children I love; to be this tired, this needed, and this deeply loved — it’s a gift few people get.