Sweets

When you become a parent, a change happens in the relationships you have with your own immediate family members.

Mom and dad become grandma and grandpa, brothers and sisters take on the roles of aunties and uncles. Transformations take place. Surprises happen. They are subtle and are carved out over time, but it's truly amazing to watch how the people who raised you and grew up alongside you now give something to your children that you never could.

My big brother, for example, is a teddy bear, a goofball and delivers a tease with such a booming voice and wild eyes, you often have to wonder if this guy is for real or just after your goat.

N's middle brother C quite literally does cartwheels to produce a giggle, would read a mountain of bedtime stories and now knows all of the words to the songs on our Muppets CD.

N's oldest brother A and family live close and keep fresh shrimp, chocolate milk and lemonade in the fridge when our tots come to visit. Tio and Tia are always obliging to let L and C pick fruit from the citrus trees in their yard and hold the leash for laps around the block with their pet chihuahua.

Auntie C is always up for puppet shows and picnics when she's with us and Auntie S impressed our princess with the most glamorous accessories at Christmas last year.

Then there are the grandparents.

We don't see either set often enough, but when we do, they leave a lasting impression.

There's a Nana who loves tea parties and lets you use the fancy china to host them in her living room. She has real goldfish to feed at her house and bakes delicious apple treats.

And Grandpa V, who brought our C the T-shirt he's wearing in the picture at the bottom of this page, is a hero every time C dons it for bedtime.

My mom is the kind of grandma who will take grandchildren down by the river to pick blackberries and throw rocks and she doesn't care if you get muddy on the way. She always manages to brandish a tin of ancient buttons or a seashell collection when idle hands get antsy.

Then there's my dad: Grandpa. The last time C saw him was nine months ago. He wasn't even 2 yet. But he remembers Grandpa. They snuggled in the recliner together and ate pudding out of a tiny plastic cup--just the two of them.

Tonight, after weeks of promising a "Grandpa's pudding" dessert night, C finally got to help me whip up a batch of that special treat.

 

While we stirred and poured, C asked if we could visit Grandma and Grandpa soon.

It will be a while, I told him, but we'll work on it. Maybe after the baby comes, they'll come for a visit.

He grinned and devoured his vanilla pudding.

 

It's funny how a cold, creamy dessert in a plastic cup was all my dad had to offer to win C's attention and lasting affection.

And that chocolate milk, real china tea cups and snuggles with storybooks we've read 100 times can be vessels for pure affection to our children, so long as they come from somebody who loves them just because they're their family. I think that's pretty sweet.