This is everyday life with a grandchild — not dramatic, not perfect, but full of meaning. Bacon on sale, and those conversations that suddenly become bigger than the world.
Läs det här på Svenska ->Bacon, kärlek och en mycket stor husbil
This is really yesterday’s events.
But they wanted to be written today.
There was a sale at Coop today.
And cheap-Frida that I am, I went all in.
Not ten packs of bacon.
Not twenty.
Thirty.
Thirty packs of bacon.
So now it will be:
eggs and bacon
bacon and eggs
meat stew with a bacon blanket
bacon in the pasta
bacon in the salad
bacon in everything that can possibly contain bacon.
I strongly suspect that in the near future the family will say:
“But grandma… not bacon again.”
But no. It’s not that bad.
There are many mouths here.
The freezer is big.
And within three months we will absolutely have eaten it all.
It just felt… safe.
Everyday life with a grandchild – an Alfred day
It was an Alfred day today.
He probably thought grandma was a bit strange for buying that much bacon.
At the same time he looked at me, smiled a little crookedly and said:
“Well grandma, that tells me that you really are my grandma.”
And somewhere there I felt:
yes.
This is exactly what a grandma does.
An evening light over the kitchen table where everyday life, conversation, child-logic and safety meet.
Here we talk about bacon, love, motorhomes and the world.
Conversations about love
Then we sat and talked about love.
Alfred said:
“If you’re in love, then you like someone.”
“And if you’re an adult maybe you want a baby.”
And then I said, completely seriously but still playfully:
“But Alfred, then I can’t be in love with grandpa.
Because we don’t have any children together.”
He looked at me.
Shook his head.
Almost looked a little surprised at how adults can think.
And said:
“But grandma… you have lots of children.”
And then he counted:
“First you have my mom.”
“Then you have all the children.”
“And then you have me.”
And somewhere there love became bigger than biology.
Everyday life with a grandchild – games, plastic animals and nutrition
It struck me later how much we have talked, he and I, over the years.
About everything.
When he was younger we often lay on the floor with all the plastic animals.
Lions, cows, dinosaurs, horses, dogs.
We built entire worlds.
And then it always started:
“Grandma, what does this one eat?”
And suddenly we were deep into nutrition.
Who eats whom.
What the body needs.
Why you can’t just live on ice cream.
“But grandma, do lions need vegetables?”
“No, Alfred. But humans do.”
He has always wanted to understand how things are connected.
Body.
Food.
Life.
So really, today’s bacon-orgy was just a natural continuation of a conversation that began sometime among the plastic animals.
The world situation and Trump
Then we ploughed through the state of the world.
War.
Trump.
Worry.
And Alfred concluded:
“Grandma, we have to buy a very big motorhome.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Because if there’s a war, then we will all live in it.”
“And then we will live in the forest.”
“So Trump won’t find us.”
This was said with complete logic.
The plan continued:
“Then everyone will live there.”
“Mom.”
“Sebbe.”
“All the cousins.”
“All the moms and dads.”
“Grandpa.”
“My dad.”
Then he thought for a bit.
“But not uncle.”
“Why not uncle?”
“Because he’s so good at aiming.”
“So he has to be outside defending Sweden.”
It felt reasonable.
I realise that this is what everyday life with a grandchild really looks like for me.
Everyday life with a grandchild – this is life
It’s so lovely to sit and talk with Alfred.
He is so simple.
So clear.
So logical in his own very special way.
Today life was about:
bacon
love
children
war
motorhomes
plastic animals
nutrition
Trump
the forest
safety
And everything was connected.
In some strange and completely obvious way.
This is maybe exactly what everyday life with a grandchild looks like.
Not grand. But full of meaning.
Final words
I came home with thirty packs of bacon.
But really I came home with something else.
A reminder that:
love is having people
safety is sometimes a freezer full of bacon
children think more clearly than adults
the world is big
but the kitchen table is bigger
And that I, apparently, am exactly the kind of grandma who buys bacon as if winter will never end.
And that actually feels completely right.
I write this to help one person feel a little more at home in their own life.
Between the lines – my voice
This is really not a text about bacon.
It’s a text about safety.
About how we try to create margin in a world that feels bigger and more frightening than our kitchens.
About how children, without knowing it, mirror our own survival strategies back to us.
I buy bacon.
Alfred buys a motorhome in his imagination.
We are doing the same thing.
We are trying to take care of our flock.
And somewhere in all of that I catch sight of myself:
that I am me.
That I have always been the one who fills the freezer, sets the table, builds safety out of everyday life.
And that right now in life I allow myself to be exactly who I am.
This is my everyday life with a grandchild.
And I notice how much of my own life lives there.
AHA – Between the Lines
This is a text that pretends to be about bacon, child logic and everyday conversations.
But really, it is about something much bigger:
how we human beings try to create safety in a world that feels larger, harsher and more unpredictable than our kitchens.
We don’t do it through grand plans.
We do it through small acts.
We fill a freezer.
We cook food.
We sit down at a table.
We listen to a child thinking out loud about love, war and motorhomes.
And suddenly something becomes clear:
that much of what we call worry is actually care.
that much of what we call control is actually love.
that much of what we call everyday life is actually survival wisdom.
The aha-moment in this text is this:
that all of us, in our own ways, are trying to build a small zone of safety in a big and shaky world.
Someone buys bacon.
Someone plans a motorhome.
Someone sets the table.
Someone calls their mother.
Someone reads a text like this and feels a little less alone.
And maybe that is what life really is.
Not grand.
But deeply meaningful.
Everyday life with a grandchild – reflection
When I think about this day afterwards, it strikes me how little it was really about the sale at Coop.
It was about conversations.
About being the adult a child can think out loud with.
About how love doesn’t always look like romance –
but often like a freezer full of bacon and time to listen.
And about how healing it is to be uncomplicated in your role:
grandma.
human.
home.
This is maybe exactly what everyday life with a grandchild looks like.
Not grand. But full of meaning.
Questions for you who are reading
What do you do to create safety in your everyday life?
Who are you in your family or your flock –
the one who gathers, the one who plans, the one who comforts, the one who laughs?
When did you last feel that you were allowed to be exactly who you are, without having to become better?
Quote
“I am me. And that is enough.”
Read more in the same spirit
Everyday ADHD and Presence
Yarn Shop in Village – Alfred’s Mittens and Quiet Community
Listening to the Body in Everyday Life – Pause, Fermentation and Presence
When Dreams No Longer Have to Shout
Texts That Stay in the Body – Then and Now
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Closing words
Yesterday has already laid itself down to rest in history.
Tomorrow is waiting further ahead.
But right now – this is where life happens.
And right now life is happening among bacon packages, plastic animals, child-logic and a kitchen table that is bigger than the world.
I am me.
And I allow myself to be exactly who I am. 💛
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