Six months ago, I joined a new club. There were no invitations in my mailboxes — neither snail nor virtual — no membership application, no initiation fee, and no meetings with current members to assess my compatibility. And yet, it’s a most coveted club to join. I became a member of the Grandma Club!

My membership cards? Two new tags — Babies R Us and Carter’s Reward Club — dangle from my key chain, nestled between my well-worn and much used drugstore and supermarket loyalty tags.

And while my husband tries on new names like a closet full of colorful T-shirts, Grandpa, Pop, Papa and the roundly and soundly rejected, Pappy, I will happily embrace any member name I can. Having waited 60-plus years to join this fellowship, I will gladly answer to Grandma, Nana, Bubby, Mimi or any other name my grandson, Ryan, chooses to apply.

As with any club, the members have developed their own jargon. I had never heard of “pack and plays” or “tummy time.” I wander the aisles of the baby superstores amazed at what I don’t know! It’s almost hard to believe that I raised two perfectly wonderful children of my own into adulthood.

In order to be a member in good standing, I will need to study up so I can earn my Grandma Badges for feeding, diapering, playing and the like on social media!

And I will happily welcome new inductees to the club. I will gladly share with them the secrets of the trade I learn by watching my precious new grandson grow!

Robin Sittenreich,

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