Nana is Always Right--When She’s Not Wrong.

Part I

Ten years ago, my mother had the nerve, the gall, to suggest that my husband and I put our first born delicious dumpling, our bundled little tax deduction—into (gasp!) her own room, into (horrors!) her own crib, on the second night we were home from the hospital. My mother, had the audacity, nay the  chutzpa to calmly counsel, “You spent all of that time, energy and expense to create her room, why don’t you put her in it?”

Ack! I mean, really? Of all the—to suggest—that a baby should—

Ok. So, it was the best idea. Ever. We swaddled that kid up, plopped her in the crib and she "slept like a baby"* ever since. (By the way, swaddle is the operative word. I am the swaddling champion no matter what my husband tells you. The key is when done properly there is no such contrivance as "too snug" of a swaddle-if it's not tight, it's not right.)  From that moment on, my husband deemed, “Nana is always right.” You can imagine that sentiment went over nicely with my mom.

When it came to babies, Nana knew her stuff.  (Mom, helpfully, reminded me when she read this for "approval" that our baby's room was also convenient to our bedroom.  It just made perfect sense.  Yes. You were very right.  Thank you, Mom.)

Part II

“Don’t forget to clean her neck. Get in the creases.”

After Lily was born, Mom had stayed for two weeks in our South Florida home and was giving last minute bits of gentle instructive advice before returning to Savannah, GA. “Nana is always right,” was our general philosophy, however I was fairly confident I knew how to bathe my own baby—thank you very much. One month later: Nana’s back to visit, and gives Lily a bath. She tips Lily’s neck back so our baby’s chin is aiming toward the skylight. My mother proceeds to puuull and gather layers of skin folds with her fingers identifying new sub stratum like a baby archaeologist. “Ah-ha!”

(“Ugh!”)

Hidden beneath top-secret baby skin was a funky layer of milk-cheese and red irritation.

Me sputtering: “That just--I wasn’t—ew.” Who knew? I did not realize one had to unhinge the baby’s head to clean all parts of the neck. Live and learn.

Part III

“Nana is always right.” Except when she is wrong.
My father was insistent that the orange juice container was dribbling and leaking at the lid.
Mom: “No it doesn’t.”

Dad: “Yes, it does.”

Doesn’t.

Does.

(Very mature parental discussion.)

A little background: at the time we used frozen concentrated orange juice mixed with water in a Tupperware-like pitcher with a lid that screwed on. You had to shake it well or all you got was "orangey" tinted tasteless water.

“Michael," jaw-clenched in time-wasting point-proving mode,  "this container is perfectly fine! See?” Shake. Shake.

SPLASH!

I think to this day, this is the only moment in my life when my mom’s wrongness was so visually played out in front of me in the style of a slow-motion movie. Was "Chariots of Fire" playing in the background for everyone or just in my head as her mouth opened slowly in shock at her astounding miscalculation?

So, in regular real-life speed, the lid flies off the orange juice container and half a gallon of orange juice floods mom’s face and hair, the counter and floor.

The proverbial, "Does." hangs unsaid in the air.

To be fair, mom was not yet a Nana and had not received the official tapping of the “Nana is always right status.” I was probably only 11 or 12 years old. I was just old enough to know not to laugh at the absurdity of the “citrus-ation” unless mom did.

Which, she did, by the way. Sticky cold orange juice covered mom and the kitchen.

A smile spread across her face. Then laughs. Laughs of admission that she was incorrect, which was good, because, Nana is always right, even when she is wrong.

Nana imparting wisdom to one-day old Lily. Or perhaps just "kvelling."

*Sleep like a baby is a debatable expression.  Our two slept great as babies, and continue to sleep well. However,  I know of babies who perhaps did not sleep until they were 30 years old according to their parents. Don’t have easy sleepers? Do not be jealous of my sleeping babies. Those who know us, know my children have made my husband and I grey in other categories. Perhaps we "got" great sleepers to balance it out. Also, did  your babies sleep in your room, in your bed, the baby swing,  or on the roof and that worked for you? Great. No judgment here, folks. Whatever gets you from one day to the next. These are just my stories meant for a few minutes entertainment.

Also, There are several ways to swaddle.  Thought I would link to this cute demonstration, even though I swaddled a little differently.