Grandmothers: The ambassadors of the World

Great Grandma Cleo Nice with her Great Grandson Chatterbox 

I just spoke with Mr. Rant's Grandmother. It's her birthday. 87 years young. We decided that she is much closer to 25 yrs old than 90.

The conversation reminded me of when I first moved here. I never felt weird attempting to talk to the Grandmothers, on either side. They know/knew zero English. Nothing. But they accepted me as one of their clan.

In all fairness, they were/are both used to taking in strays. Both have/had adopted many children and raised them as their own. It was common at the time. You have a sister, brother, or cousin of a sister or brother who not afford the newest and left them with these women to be raised well and with love.

My first visit to my husband's late Grandmother on his Mother's side was the most comforting thing for this new expat. I walked into her apartment, which smelled of home-cooked food, and she put her arms around me. Just that was enough. Whenever we were in the room together she had her little arm around my waist, as it had no hopes of reaching my shoulders. And she held me as if I was someone who had not been held by family, other than my husband, in a long time. You know what, I hadn't and it was exactly what I needed.

The Grandma on the Father's side declared to me that she is also my Grandmother. That, of course, came after thanking me for marrying her bachelor Grandson. It had been 5 years since his last relationship! Gasp! She was concerned that he would never settle down.

The funny thing was that I felt at home with them. They both, with all their sass, reminded me of my Grandmothers. They filled the hole, so surprisingly well, of my family. And surprisingly to me, the Queens of the family Monarchs made me feel so apart of a family that I wasn't sure would accept me.

To this day I look forward to family lunches just for this. Now I get to take my children, who quickly run around spastically like all children are known to do, and both women proclaim/proclaimed with pride "These boys feel at home here and they are!"

Two women from my husband's lineage gave this struggling expat a light in the dark at a time where I was afraid to be a woman, much less knowing how to be a wife. Their strength, stories, and ease with acceptance showed me a side to the chaotic Brazil that made me want to belong.

Not to mention the shock value of an 85 yr old telling you how important it is to give your husband sex when he wants to. Lion in the bedroom ladies!

Classic! 

I Was Played

I don't know if you remember my post about my standoff with Mr. Rant's Grandmother over goodie bags. If you don't, I said that I had thought that I had outsmarted her. I was sure that I had guarded those bad boys with the skill of a well oiled machine.

I should have known better. Today we had lunch with her at her apartment. At some point during the post meal digesting and chatting period the Grandma starting pulling out the toys that were given in the goodie bags. She was giving them to my boys to play with.

My guess is that she was going for the second bag when I snagged her.

Well played Granny! Well played!

The Standoff

Last night I had the standoff of my year. It was between me and the Grandmother of Mr. Rant, the Great-Grandmother of the Chatterbox.

You see, she steals goodie bags. I guess you can't say she steals them but actually takes them to give them to other random children like her maid's kids and such.

It really is a cultural thing. All Brazilians have this idea that they are entitled to a goodie bag if they should even know of a child around the age of the birthday boy. This is normally ok but I am that weird Mother who takes her kid's goodie bags way too seriously. No crap, nothing that doesn't even work when you take it out, and definitely not all candy.

This year my parents were rock stars and mailed a box of US goodies you just can't find here. We're talking sticky hands, flyers, and finger flashlights among other things. So when I managed to only make 48 goodie bags, and at least 40 kids were definitely showing up, I knew I'd have to take the Monarch down.

It's not as easy as it sounds. Trust me! When your child's Brazilian Great-Grandmother makes a request, you do not say no! For example, when she makes an effort to bring you a cup canjica she sweetly made for the party, even though it really doesn't go with your beer and hot dog, you eat it. It's just how things roll.

So when she came up and requested a couple of goodie bags I had to hold my ground. Honestly, I had to picture crying children and Mr. Rant scolding me for not being more prepared. I told her "Sorry Grandma but there may not be enough bags. More people came than expected but if any are left over I will bring them over to your place on Monday."

Of course she replied "oh but only 2. For sure 2 is ok."

"Sorry Grandma, I can't. I don't know if we have enough. I promise you will be the first to know if any are left over though!"

A short time later I finally got to leave my goodie bag post as people were not hovering over me like happy cake fed vultures.

The moment I left the table I turned back. Call it instinct, call it knowing better, call it life experience. There circling the good bag box was the Great-Grandma. She was slow, smooth, and innocent but I knew better.

When I sauntered up to the table I got the famous granny 'You may have caught me but I'm too damn cute for you to say anything grin' and she shuffled away. This much sass from an 87 yr old. I would love to have seen her at 20!

By the way, I had the perfect number of gift bags! 48 bags to 48 kids exactly!