PenPenWrites

It's a given: we love our grandchildren. But some of us love babysitting for them more than others do. A college friend–someone I hadn't heard from since we lived in the same dormitory at school–called to see if I was coming to the class reunion. She had a long list of Simmons graduates she was calling to recruit to come to Boston in June. It was so nice to reconnect, and while we got reacquainted on the phone, she mentioned her four grandchildren and how much she loved babysitting for them at her son's house. She did it once a week despite running her own small business and living a busy life. "It's the highlight of my life," she said. "It's the best thing I do." She mentioned this highlight several times, so of course I had to ask her: what it is about babysitting that turns her on? What she told me was unexpected and touching:

"I hated being a mother, and I like the way I am with my grandchildren. I am all the things I was not as a mother. I am patient. I am kind. I don't yell."

Maybe that's what we love about being with our children's children: the chance to be a kinder, gentler us.