Loved the insights here. I'm a humour writer who has had some extended stay at home dad periods, and they are ripe for writing about. And also, learning from. But mostly writing.
Loved this thoughtful and poignant essay, especially as a humor writer who often writes about parenting. Lots of insights here but the one that stands out most is how kids notice everything- the good, the bad, how fast we eat popcorn (I’m also guilty of this). It’s one of those things I inherently know but still need to be reminded of
yep. It’s like when my younger one made a phone out of a rock and carried it around with her everywhere and said look, I’m just like dad! (And I was so grateful she wasn’t referring to me!).
As a mostly stay-at-home Dad in my Army retirement days, combined with the recent loss of my Mom, this frugality discussion hit me in a soft place.
My mother's life was a journey through three distinct seasons of giving. As a child, she knew the harsh grip of austerity—want was her constant companion, teaching her the weight of every penny. When we were growing up, that early lesson transformed into careful frugality; she stretched every dollar with the skill of someone who understood scarcity, making sure we had what we needed even when abundance felt impossible.
But with her grandchildren, something beautiful emerged. The woman who had learned to count every cent became lavishly generous in spirit. She told me she wanted to buy my kids everything she had dreamed of providing for us, but couldn't afford. Understanding time was her most precious resource, she chose to shower them with the generosity her childhood had been denied, and her parenting years couldn't accommodate.
It wasn't the abundance that made it magical—it was the intentionality. Every gift, thought, care, and love was so deliberate - mere objects were transformed into something far more precious. Somehow, this wasn't a lesson in extravagance, and it created no sense of entitlement in my children. Instead, it was pure magic, wrapped in her understanding of precisely what would bring them joy. Grandma magic.
My children will forever miss those glorious "grandma hauls"—the unexpected gifts, the spontaneous treats, the way she made ordinary moments feel enchanted through her giving. I will miss watching how her generosity of spirit transformed this brief, precious season of their lives. I struggle to recreate that same magic, knowing it wasn't about the gifts themselves, but about the love that made each one feel like a minor miracle. I'll stay frugal, I can't compete with Grandma Magic.
Ah man, this is beautiful and wholly understood ..... the frugality evolving into intentionality part, that is. Sadly, as both Emily and I lost our moms years ago, our kids don't know anything about grandma magic, which breaks my heart every single day. Your kids are so lucky to have those memories, as you're clearly aware.
Loved the insights here. I'm a humour writer who has had some extended stay at home dad periods, and they are ripe for writing about. And also, learning from. But mostly writing.
Glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for the note.
Loved this thoughtful and poignant essay, especially as a humor writer who often writes about parenting. Lots of insights here but the one that stands out most is how kids notice everything- the good, the bad, how fast we eat popcorn (I’m also guilty of this). It’s one of those things I inherently know but still need to be reminded of
They. Notice. EVERYTHING!!!!!!! Tiny sponges, they are.
yep. It’s like when my younger one made a phone out of a rock and carried it around with her everywhere and said look, I’m just like dad! (And I was so grateful she wasn’t referring to me!).
Glad you enjoyed it! And yes, I will probably think about that moment every time I eat popcorn for the rest of my life.
As a mostly stay-at-home Dad in my Army retirement days, combined with the recent loss of my Mom, this frugality discussion hit me in a soft place.
My mother's life was a journey through three distinct seasons of giving. As a child, she knew the harsh grip of austerity—want was her constant companion, teaching her the weight of every penny. When we were growing up, that early lesson transformed into careful frugality; she stretched every dollar with the skill of someone who understood scarcity, making sure we had what we needed even when abundance felt impossible.
But with her grandchildren, something beautiful emerged. The woman who had learned to count every cent became lavishly generous in spirit. She told me she wanted to buy my kids everything she had dreamed of providing for us, but couldn't afford. Understanding time was her most precious resource, she chose to shower them with the generosity her childhood had been denied, and her parenting years couldn't accommodate.
It wasn't the abundance that made it magical—it was the intentionality. Every gift, thought, care, and love was so deliberate - mere objects were transformed into something far more precious. Somehow, this wasn't a lesson in extravagance, and it created no sense of entitlement in my children. Instead, it was pure magic, wrapped in her understanding of precisely what would bring them joy. Grandma magic.
My children will forever miss those glorious "grandma hauls"—the unexpected gifts, the spontaneous treats, the way she made ordinary moments feel enchanted through her giving. I will miss watching how her generosity of spirit transformed this brief, precious season of their lives. I struggle to recreate that same magic, knowing it wasn't about the gifts themselves, but about the love that made each one feel like a minor miracle. I'll stay frugal, I can't compete with Grandma Magic.
Ah man, this is beautiful and wholly understood ..... the frugality evolving into intentionality part, that is. Sadly, as both Emily and I lost our moms years ago, our kids don't know anything about grandma magic, which breaks my heart every single day. Your kids are so lucky to have those memories, as you're clearly aware.