The Blues

How to recognize a Grandmonster

On February 5, 2012, in Family, Grandmonster, by Rosie

Or, ‘there’s an ultrasound in my pocket, Eliza, Eliza.’

Part 1

Guess what?

The younger Baby Boomers (b. mid 1950s) are slowly becoming Grandmonsters … um, I mean Grandparents. It’s true! And as with all exposé written at Fangirl Sings the Blues, this series of posts will be based on fictional reality. That’s a bit like a reality TV show, where the characters are caricatures, based on real people, but so ridiculous, they can only really be fictitious. Sorta real. Not quite real. Not quite right. Pretend people who we might know, but not really.

And, as with all ‘friends of friends’ hearsay written in this blog, it’s penned with a whole lot of love, a backhand swing of complimentary piss and a HOPE that when I am of Grandmonster age, I don’t behave like this.

Okay. Off we go on a journey in a Mercedes with baby boomers on speed, hyped-up on the red cordial of pregnancy news and lineage hopes.

Some readers might remember Maude. She still jets in for the coffee, cake, colonoscopy trilogy, still drives a car that requires a fuselage and increases pollution by 300 %, still performs humanitarian deeds from her tropical sojourn. Her life partner’s name is Taprick. We haven’t met him yet, but suffice to say that he, too, is a baby boomer about to become a Grandmonster for the second time.

Maude and Taprick have been down this road before. In fact, they are Grandmonster fodder on two levels: jaded, been-there-done-that Grandmonsters and enthusiastic 0h-my-expat-god-there’s-gunner-be-a-new-baby Grandmonsters. They are also expats which makes mocking them so, so very easy.

Welcome, Maude and Tap.

Unto this club, we also welcome the ever-exuberent Henley and Cass. It has been an age since I’ve written about the parents of Bridezilla, the fictitious lovely who wandered down the aisle ahead of her ruddy, high maintenance father (Henley) and her Bunion-bound, court-shod mama (Cass). It is fabulous that during 2012 we can muse about them becoming grandparents for the very first time.

If anything, Henley and Cass personify all that is celebratory about the Grandmonster. Maude and Tap too, but they are so much more experienced, perhaps a little more discreet? They probably don’t feel the need to walk around town with an ultrasound of their 12-week old grandchild in their handbag or, indeed, use photoshop ‘pom this image to draw features on the fetus.

And that’s not all!

But future posts will deal with the antics the new Grandmonsters in more detail, whereas this entry is all about the recognition of them:

• Grandmonsters often have a discerning mark. It might be the shadow of a moustache, a scar from ingrown hairs, picked to death or even a bunion. The mark might be hidden (like the dark mark of a death eater) or it might prevent mobility in high heels, like the infamous Buggles the bunion.

• Grandmonsters are extremely competitive towards their cohorts. The number of babies, their spacing, the proposed visitation schedules. Anything that can promote the Grandmonster as the best.

• Grandmonsters are extremely competitive towards the Grandmonsters on the other side. The maternal Grandmonsters hope for more access, more talk of ‘favouritism’ over the paternal Grandies … bigger, better, more abundant everything.

• Grandmonsters may hear of Granderly news while ‘doing’ things. Doing coffee, facials, doing driving in cars that are really inappropriate, doing shopping with Amexes or holidaying on the east coast. Doing good works or talks, study or while networking. The Grandmonster is always busy. Or sighing.

• Grandmonsters talk about ‘their days’. When they had babes, they had enemas, unkind midwife beyotches, no drugs, no time for drugs, no contraception (yeah, right) no stitch-less births, no doctors, no heating. The father was an add-on (well, not quite, otherwise there’d be no baby). In their days, you got married at 21 and were pregnant JUST before the 10 month anniversary of the wedding night. (yeah, right x 2)

• Grandmonsters are often breathless. With excitement, with advice, with anticipation, with gifts, with visitation decrees, with nodding sagely in between hyperventilating about a new baby.

• Grandmonsters keep ultrasound pics on memory sticks. They practice filming on their iPhones and order Siri to ‘text so-and-so with the baby news.’ They (are about to) approach hospitals with a query re WiFi capacity of the delivery rooms. They ensure the parents of their grandchild have GPS and encourage the continual use of Facebook updates and Twitter: e.g.: @other Grandmonster on father’s side. I had first nurse and we are minding bb tomoz. Nah-nah, nah-nah-nah #amgrandmonster

• Grandmonsters. Are. Riduclous.

Guess what?

Young baby boomers are becoming Grandmonsters. Stay tuned for regular updates about the Creation of the Grandmonster, and how the grandparent of this generation differs from their predecessors in terms of ridiculousness. And in the words of Grandmonster Cass: ‘there has never been a grandmother like ME’

We don’t doubt it.