Deb Kastner here. I’m leaving for my very first international adventure to Ireland in about a week and my mind is filled with last-minute details. So I decided for my post today I’d share a little tidbit about my life. I hope you’ll find it humorous. Since it’s National Coffee Day, pour yourself a cup and come visit with me.
There have been several times in my life when I’ve had to consider changing my name. When I walked down the aisle, for one, but I’m thinking specifically of becoming a mother, aunt and grandmother. What were the kids going to call me?
My kids kind of took over the whole Mommy bit on their own. I was Mommy until they were five or six and then it was more like, “Mom, mom, mom, mama, mama, mama, mom-mee, mom-mee!” And it hasn’t let up to this day. But since I am the only one in the household who answered to any and all of the above, it wasn’t too complicated.
Then I became a grandparent. Suddenly there’s not one grandmother, but two. And there’s a whole range of nicknames to consider—Grandma, Nana, Noni, Gran, Granny…the list goes on. Sometimes, especially in cultural situations, a person has a very strong preference for a specific nickname. I called my own grandparents “Grandma “Last-Name” and “Grandpa “Last-Name.” That felt too formal to me. I’m a very young grandmother, I assure you, but I nevertheless pictured my many grandchildren hovered around my dining table asking everything from “read me a book,” to dating advice.
Yet as it turned out, becoming a grandmother wasn’t even the deciding factor for me—because my first grandchild was a dog. Yes, you read that right. My middle daughter got a Chihuahua for her sixteenth birthday. I refer to myself as “Mom” to all my dogs, but Kimberly was Paris’s “Mom.” So what was I?
My kids joked around and called me Granny. “I’m nowhere near old enough to be a Granny,” I protested, but alas, the name stuck. I didn’t fight it too hard—after all, it was only a dog, right? But when the grandkiddies came along…you guessed it. I was already called Granny. And so Granny it was. And is.
Let me tell you—I don’t fight it. I own it! I’m one rockin’ Granny.
Cause really, whadda ya gonna do?
Deb Kastner’s next book, Yuletide Baby, will be out mid-November. Make an author’s day and preorder it now!