Darned if I was going to be dragged down into senior citizenship without a fight by letting my grandchildren call me “grandma”. The very word conjures up images of little old ladies hunched over knitting needles, warmed by fuzzy cardigans and sporting chunky black lace up shoes – not an option for a boomer ex-soccer mom who grew up with bell bottoms and the Beatles. So after the birth of my first grandchild, I borrowed an idea from a hip friend who successfully avoided the same dilemma by…