Super "G"

My mom rocks. She is Super Uber Craft-tastic Grandma. She doesn't look like a grandma, does she? And she's not one of those pretentious women who have to come up with another name because "grandma" makes her feel like a geezer. She is not Meemaw, Nonni, Nana, Mama, or any other name that, in my book, does not sum it up like "grandma" does.

When Grandma is around, I do not exist. When it comes to asking permission for sugary treats, watching a DVD, or wearing shorts in January, screw you, Mom, Grandma will always tell me yes. (This is not literally true but it sure seems like it..) When my mom has the girls in her care, she is 110% Grandma, or Super "G" as I think she should be called. She needs to wear a sequin-emblazened sweater with a giant "G" in the font Superman's "S" has.

Grandma will always make crafts, paint, sculpt Play-Do, play games, make blanket forts, make silly games out of household objects, let the kids annihilate her hair and makeup, go on nature walks, read endless books, and have picnics. It takes alot to make her yell, unlike Mommy, who yells way too much. I am reminded of this daily.

She is not the typical plump, grey-haired granny with wire-rimmed glasses and a calico apron you see in story books. She dresses very trendy, has a cool haircut, and has a six-pack (on her stomach, not in her fridge). I hate her just a little bit for that. She runs every day and could crack a walnut with her ass cheeks. She will be embarassed to read this but it's true. Some people hit 50 and say, "Fuck it! Where's the beer, donuts, and French onion dip? I'm hangin' in the Lazy Boy and watching Wheel of Fortune!" My mom went back to college and got in really great physical shape.

She makes a mean pumpkin pie and cleans my house like no other. I always enjoy coming home when I've been on a trip because she reorganizes my shit better than Ty Pennington on crystal meth. She can sew a couture gown with matching cape and muff out of $20 worth of clearance fabric and a spool of dental floss. Hell, she made me look good at a black tie wedding when I was 7 months pregnant in a custom strapless gown. She puts Martha Stewart to shame with her attention to detail in gift packaging and home decorating. She could take that jail-bait bitch down in a craft-off any day. Martha probably has flabby abs, too.

I get it how the grandparent gig is much better than having to be mommy or daddy. Spoil the shit out of them, buy them whatever they want, jack 'em up with loads of sugar, style their hair like the Libby Lu salon, then hand them over to Mean Mommy and the House of Lame Rules. I suck, I know. I am grateful she is available often to watch my kids when I travel. The key difference is that she is here for a short enough time to believe she ENJOYS it. She never gets tired of the antics/fighting/whining/drama my daughters provide. And with TWO girls there is more drama than in a courtroom with Britney and K-Fed.

Unfortunately, Super "G" is not available for rent or cloning. Sucks to be you. I'm super lucky to have this pint-sized, red-headed lady in my life. I can't compete with her but I'm okay with it. I can still pick her up and toss her over my shoulder. She's like Grandma Smurfette who still has the body to shop at Forever 21. Tiny little, patient, craft-a-holic bitch...Luv ya', Mom!!!