It's just a name, in the overall scheme of things, does it matter?

Okay, ladies, think back to before Abby was born.  Remember how I saw that cute little Grandma on QVC selling jelly a few years ago, the one who called herself Nana Sugar, and I decided then and there that was what I wanted to be when I had a grandchild.

Remember how appalled my family was?  They vetoed that bigtime.  Lindsay said she wasn't going to get pregnant if I was going to call myself Nana Sugar, and I wanted that grandchild really bad, so I relented and thought of every name in the book that I wanted Abby to call me before finally deciding on "Grammie."  And you know what, it fits, it feels right, I don't even think about being Nana Sugar anymore.

And they remind me all the time that ultimately, Abby will be the one to decide what she wants to call me.  I realize that from experience, for years John called my mother, Mongo.  She would sit in front of him, drilling him constantly, saying, "Grannnndma" and he would look at her and say, "Monnnnnnngo."

So now I have it figured out that I will look at Abby and say "Grammmmmmie," and she just might look back at me and say, "Mammmmmmy."  Oh, wouldn't that be a trip if she decides to call me Mammy!  Hey, that was what I called my great grandma, she was Mammy Smith.

And that little devil sitting on my shoulder hopes she does because Ryan would just be horrified.  And John would roll on the floor laughing.  And what would Lindsay think about this?  I don't know, she's mellowed a lot lately, you'll have to ask her. 

Time will tell, it won't be too many more months before she starts calling me "something."  And no doubt I'll have a video of it, too.  Can't wait...