Grandchildren as Speed Bumps

This is a guest post by my good friend Elaine Ambrose.

I’ve learned some important lessons from my grandchildren, but the best one involved leaving the fast lane and meandering over to the road less traveled. I recommend it.

I’m usually running out of the door while texting and juggling a loaded alligator bag the size of a real alligator. When I leave on a relaxing vacation, I take a laptop computer, an iPad, and a cell phone and all the necessary electronic chargers that are more important than a change of underwear. I’m often so distracted that I haven’t noticed that it’s not July anymore.

But a recent event caused me to (temporarily) pull the multiple plugs on my electronic taskmasters. My first clue that I was living life in a self-imposed blender was when I realized the hairs on my chin were long enough to braid because I hadn’t found the time to pluck them.

I couldn’t go an hour without checking in on the various email and social media sites, sometimes at stoplights. I desperately needed therapy, and I found the perfect distraction. I unplugged with the help of a fifty-pound, six-year-old speed bump: my darling granddaughter, Pumpkin.

Pumpkin and I were dashing about on one of our play dates when she stopped short, put her hands on her hips, and loudly proclaimed: “Tutu. Slow down!” And so I did.

I looked at this darling little wonder who all too soon would be off to explore the world and not have time for a disheveled grandmother. Then I turned off the cell phone and announced that we were off the clock. Suddenly, the pace was less frantic, and my eye stopped twitching.

We were close to a craft store so decided to go inside and explore. Pumpkin wanted to create a flower arrangement for her mother, my daughter. I watched as she took thirty minutes to select the flowers, a purple vase, put back the flowers and select different flowers, choose just the right ribbon, return and pick her original selection of flowers, and arrange them gently in the order of the colors in a rainbow. Finally, she was satisfied with her creation.

By then, I was about to suggest that we just get a generic gift card, but I noticed her happy expression as she clutched her creative mommy bouquet. This delightful speed bump caused me to slow down, and I’m grateful. I survived many decades without a computer, cell phone, or iPad. My new goal is to limit their use to a few hours in the morning, unless I’m writing. My fifty-pound therapist taught me that it’s time to unplug and hug.

Elaine Ambrose is an author, syndicated blogger, and retreat organizer from Eagle, ID. Preview her books and blogs on www.elaineambrose.com.

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5 Comments

  1. Aww, I love that she was able to get you to unplug and enjoy life. Thanks for a great article.

  2. I don’t know which made me smile more…”unplug and hug” or the fact that your granddaughter calls you Tutu! I saw the pictures of her on the trampoline and she is just adorable. I can’t wait until the twins get old enough to talk to me!

  3. such an extremely important lesson! I have to learn that as well, although I’m not a grandma yet :)…thanks for sharing this beautiful note, Nana

  4. I love stories like this. I was taught a similar lesson by a bigger therapist: my 22 year old son. He told his friends that his mother is addicted to her cell phone. He was right. I’d rather spend quality time with those around me than spend time on electronics. Leave it to our kids and grandkids to teach us those valuable lessons. Love you Pumpkin(s)!!

  5. I think most modern grandmas need this lesson. My grandchildren are a whole country away, so thanks, Pumpkin, for the wisdom. <3

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