Grand Thoughts: So stressed about growing older, not me, my grandkids

photo Karen Nazor Hill

I'm overly sensitive. I admit it. But getting emotional over buying an adult-size folding camp chair is an all-time low.

I felt sort of stupid, actually, looking sad and rather pathetic while standing in the aisle at Wal-Mart, debating on whether or not to buy the chair. I knew, without a doubt, there wasn't a choice. My granddaughter, Tilleigh, 7, needed a big chair. She had outgrown the smaller version.

Ugh.

Tilleigh is the oldest of my three grandchildren (the others are Evie, 4, and William, 2). She's now too big for the smaller-sized chair and the reality of it hit me like a ton of bricks two weeks ago in the Signal Mountain Wal-Mart. I argued with myself that, if I bought the smaller chair, Tilleigh would, somehow, stay "little" a while longer.

The chair became symbolic of time and how fast it flies. But it's not something you think about from day to day. It happens during milestone events like birthdays, holidays, the start of a new school year, graduation, etc., not at Wal-Mart while buying an adult-size camping chair. Really?

But as I stood there in the aisle, I was remembering the first time I bought Tilleigh a folding camp chair. It was pink. She was so excited to have a chair just like the adults. And she was appreciative. After a couple of years' use, the little chair finally wore out and I bought her a new green one. She liked it just as much. Then, a couple of weekends ago, I bought her new one. A big blue one. And it made me incredibly sad.

Tilleigh is growing up. She'll be 8 in December, and she's grown into such a sweet, caring, witty, precious little girl ... or is she technically a "big" girl now? At what age does a little girl morph into a big girl? Is it 8 years old? 10?

I still hold her.

I still snuggle with her.

I kiss her all the time.

I call her "my baby" and tell her she will always be "my baby."

She has a special dinner plate, Hello Kitty silverware and a mermaid cup at my house (her mommy did tell me recently that Tilleigh eats out of regular plates and silverware at home. I think my daughter was trying to make a point).

I seriously thought Tilleigh would be shocked and perhaps disappointed that I replaced her child chair with an adult one. I was ready to admit my mistake and take her to Wal-Mart to pick out her own chair when she smiled and thanked me for the new chair. She was excited.

"Thank you, Mom (my grandchildren call me 'Mom')," she said. "Now I won't be squished like I was in the green chair. William can have it."

And, to pour salt in the wound, she told me later that day that she couldn't wait to be a teenager.

"I love teenagers," Tilleigh told me. "They have so much fun."

Therapy. I need it.

I'll be ready to cut the apron strings when the time comes (I keep telling myself) but, until then, I'm going to soak up these days of childhood, and be thankful for every second we spend together.

Contact Karen Nazor Hill at khill@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6396.

Upcoming Events