Jo Mathis and her granddaughter, Anna Christine.

No matter how you prepare for life’s big events, you never know how you’ll feel til you’re in the moment, often seeped in disbelief that the anticipated is actually happening.

And so it was when my first child was about to give birth to her first child. As Christie rested between contractions, her doctor looked up at me with a smile and asked: “Are you a first-time grandparent?”

What tipped her off? The fact that I was standing behind Christie’s head with a camera, sobbing?

Moments later – at 10 p.m. on 5-5-10 – a gooey little alienesque creature burst onto the scene amidst our cheers, tears, and one big sigh of relief from her mother.

People had told me that grandparenting is indescribably delicious, and now I know for myself why they call it grand.

While searching for tips on how to be a superior grandparent, I came across a book titled “Totally Cool Grandparenting: A Practical Handbook of Tips, Hints, & Activities for the Modern Grandparent.”

I’m not interested in “cool.” Let her aunts and uncles corner the hip factor. I want to be wise and loving and warm and available.

Though Anna Christine is still a pound smaller than my four babies were at birth, I picture us sipping tea in floppy hats, visiting the library, reading “Charlotte’s Web.” I’m digging out the kids’ activity books I was too busy to finish as a mother, and filling a shelf with a few select toys and books snagged at Saturday morning garage sales.

And because I’m eager for tips, I’m asking anyone willing to talk: What did you love most about your grandparents?

My daughter Lexie’s Texan boyfriend visited for a week recently. One night, he called his grandmother.

“Can I speak to the best grandmother in the whole world?” he asked.

“Well,” she said in her soft southern drawl. “Ah’m the only one heah!”

I later asked Sean what made her so wonderful.

“She loves me unconditionally, and always lets me know how special and unique I am,” he said. “Yet, she also expects a lot from me, and gently challenges me. She always reminded me to stand up straight, to open the door for her, to be polite when I meet people. I can’t remember her ever reprimanding me or getting upset with me, but with her amiable attitude, I never wanted to send anything but love and respect in her direction.”

Sean and his grandmother, circa 1992.

He said she’s playful, creative and positive, and always had fun right along with the grandkids, whether it was building a fort, flying a kite, or getting out the Lincoln Logs.

And it wasn’t just quality time. It was a quantity of time.

“She was present at every single sports game, every play, every awards banquet, and every graduation throughout my entire life,” he said. “She would drive half an hour to my town to pick me up to spend the night at her house, and in the summer, she would drive me all the way to Houston or Galveston to go the Museum of Natural History, the Imax, movies, amusement parks, the circus.”

“And she’s prayed for me every day since I was born.”

At that point, I realized Sean wasn’t kidding when he asked to speak to the best grandmother in the world.

I know a grandfather who has a slumber party for his grandkids every Friday night. It’s a win-win-win. The kids’ parents get a night to themselves, which presumably helps keep their marriage strong. And the first and third generations bond over food, games, stories and wasting time together.

The best babysitters are the baby’s grandparents, said humorist Dave Barry, who added: “You feel completely comfortable entrusting your baby to them for long periods, which is why most grandparents flee to Florida.”

Luckily Dave Barry already lives in Florida. Because if he ever becomes a grandpa, I have a hunch he’ll be staying put. And I have a feeling some grandparents come to realize that sunny weather is good. But a grandchild on the lap is better.

An older relative said she wouldn’t bring a child into this crazy world. People were saying that when I had kids, and my mother heard the same thing 50 years ago. When was the world not crazy? Was there ever a perfect time to have a baby?

It’s been said that life is like licking honey off a thorn. Every day, we face a mixed bag, and every day, we can help lighten the next guy’s load. And if we can help our own children so that they can enjoy parenting even more, well, why wouldn’t we?

Among primates, only humans provide for their young after weaning, writes Melvin Konner in a recent article in The Chronicle of Higher Education. “We should think of the natural human adaptation for child-rearing,” he writes, “as one in which mothers are central but have large amounts of support.”

And all the grandparents, in all their collective wisdom, shouted: Amen!

About the author: Jo Mathis is an Ann Arbor-based writer.

Jo Mathis and her oldest daughter, Christie.

Every year, we say we’re cutting back on Christmas presents. And every year, we go a little crazy anyhow.

So December 25 has always been one big bloated day of blatant materialism. Even the dog had her own little pile, which she mounted and guarded for dear life.

It’s been great fun.

But this year, we mean it. We’re cutting back.

My oldest daughter, Christie, in fact, declared some months ago that because she had enough stuff and we all had enough stuff, she no longer wanted to exchange gifts. For the rest of her life.

She’s still very generous. It just doesn’t translate into things you buy at the mall. Last weekend, for instance, she treated her sisters to dinner at Olive Garden followed by “Holiday Nights in Greenfield Village.”

And this Christmas morning, without spending a dime, Christie will come by with a surprise gift we’ll always remember.

Fresh from an ultrasound on the 23rd, she and her husband will tell us whether they’re expecting a boy or a girl.

I’m gonna be a granny!

I know.

If you’re a grandparent, you’re thinking how much I’m going to love it. And if you’re not, you’re thinking that makes me sound very old.

As a two-time mother of the bride this past year, I knew grandchildren wouldn’t be too far behind. And I knew Christie didn’t want to wait long. The Estimated Time of Arrival is May 18, just three days after her anniversary.

My husband says I shouldn’t be writing about all this because a) I know nothing about grannihood yet, and 2) can’t I keep ANYthing private?

Actually, I do know about grandparenthood because every person I know who is one gets that smile on his or her face whenever the subject comes up.

“It’s the best thing ever. You get to love ‘em up, and send ‘em back home.”

One woman told me it’s the only good thing about getting old.

Whenever we run into our friends, Tom and Sue McCartney of Saline, they’re holding at least one of their five grandchildren. And smiling.

“We love our grandkids so much, I’m not sure I can put it into words,” says Tom. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend time with them. I don’t remember a time in my life when I was happier. And it gets better every day.”

I was 24 when I gave birth to Christie. And although I read all the books I could squeeze into nine months, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. What the heck do you do with a whole, real, live person?

I had told my mother not to come up from Illinois immediately after I had the baby because Gary and I would want some time alone with him or her. Little did I know my emotions would be like a roller coaster on crack. Up, down, joy, despair. Christie wanted to nurse non-stop. I wanted to sleep. Christie cried a lot. I wanted to sleep.

So I was never so happy to see anyone at my door as I was the moment my mother finally arrived with her suitcase.

“You just go back to bed like a great big milking cow, and I’ll handle everything,” she said.

Ahhh. A cow! How perfect. All I had to do was milk and sleep. And Mother would handle the rest. I think I sobbed with joy.

Especially now that I am in possession of Everything There Is To Know about pregnancy/labor/childbirth/breastfeeding/childcare, I want to be that kind of mother-of-the-mother.

I want to be a big help without coming across as a know-it-all. (That might be tough.) I want to be there to lighten the burdens of parenting – which at times is more difficult than expectant parents can imagine. And I can’t wait to watch Christie and Don fall more and more in love with their child. They think they know. But again, they have no idea.

While in many ways I’ve enjoyed parenting older children even more than little ones – a phenomena that can be spelled f-r-e-e-d-o-m – there is something yummy about those early years.

Yes, Christmas is all about family, fellowship, and spiritual connection. But let’s face it. It’s a lot more fun when shared with a wide-eyed child bedazzled by the magic.

That’s why I’m already looking forward to Christmas 2010, when the baby will have become an essential part of our lives. I want only one gift: One of those hokey World’s Best Grandma mugs. And to know in my heart I deserve it.

About the author: Jo Mathis is an Ann Arbor-based writer.