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A Valentine's Day Message To My Adorable Grandkids

02/14/2015 07:49 am ET | Updated Apr 16, 2015

When my first child was a baby, people asked me if he was adopted. He was a blonde, fair-skinned child with light eyes who happened to have a dark haired, olive skinned, brown-eyed mom. Times were far less politically correct than they are now, so I patiently responded that he was my biological child who looked like his father. Looking back on it, how rude of them to ask.

My grandkids are a beautiful rainbow of children who look like ... themselves. So here's my valentine to all eight of them, each as unique and awesome as a snowflake.

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Remember that little blonde boy who looked nothing like me? Well, he has two African-American sons who did join our family through adoption. So now come the PC version of the questions folks asked me about him. Clearly, they are adopted, so we can skip that one. Are they from Africa? Nope. Are they brothers? Definitely, but I know what you are really asking, so no, they do not have the same biological parents.

My first daughter married a Korean man and they have three daughters. So I get the "Are they adopted?" question frequently. Nope, but why should that matter? They look like both parents and neither parent. I've had folks say one of them (generally the one I'm with) looks like me. Not really. Maybe it's a mannerism or facial expression? At any rate, the comment never ceases to delight me.

My younger daughter, who does look like me, followed my example and married a blonde, fair-skinned man. Two of her kids are blonde and look much more like their father. One looks exactly like her (and consequently like me). I guess when I go somewhere with him, I don't have to answer any of those nosy questions.

When a baby is born, I'm as guilty as the next of saying the child looks like one of the parents. Or even worse, she has her mother's eyes and her father's mouth. How silly.

I guess since most babies look somewhat similar, we are looking for that thing that connects the child to her parents. But here's the thing. My grandson who "looks like me" also looks a lot like his African-American cousin in their newborn photos. Maybe I need to go on Finding Your Roots to discover that my origins are not 100 percent Lithuanian Jewish? But the easier solution is to agree that the thing that connects babies to their parents is love.

So to my diverse collection of grandkids that I love so dearly, I give you this valentine from my heart. Who do you look like? Who cares? You look like my grandchildren and I am so lucky to be your Gramma.

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