Her Name Was Lola ...She was a Grandma

It’s taken several months for me to warm up to the idea that ‘technically’ I am going to be a ‘Grandma’ in March. In anticipation of the blessed event, I decided early on that the thought of being referred to a “Grandma” was just not going to work for me. When asked by my stepson and his lovely wife what I would like to be called, I chose “Lola”. My husband’s first choice was “Long Distance”, then “Frank” but eventually settled on whatever the little one wanted to call him. What a pushover.

A gift from the expectant parents

Why Lola? I’m not quite sure. To me, the name sounds youthful and sexy. So I’m over fifty. No big whup. I understand that fifty is the new thirty and who cares what I really look like … it’s all about what I think I look like. Anyway, I would much rather have a 'tween' holler “Hey, Lola” at me in the mall, rather than “Hey, Granny”.

But when it all comes down to it – I’m thinking that little Annslee (It’s a Girl!) will find the name for me that fits her just fine.