Bring it on, Grandma!

I LOVE my children.  I mean, I seriously love them.   When my friends and family became grandmothers one by one, I was often told “Just wait.  You won’t believe it.”, I admit I thought to myself “Really? How different can it be? I LOVE my children”.  

Well, from the moment this first little blonde head popped into my life I am a flag waving member of that “Just wait...you won’t believe it” group.  I don’t believe it.  I don’t believe the joy she brings to me and hubs.  I don’t believe how she makes the faces of others light up with delight.  I don’t believe the look in my daughter’s eyes as she talks about her, or my son-in-law’s pure affection for her.  I don’t believe I am the grandmother to this beauty.  I don’t believe how I ache to see her and almost run her grandfather over to be the first to get to her.  I don’t believe I could be any more fulfilled.  

I also don’t believe the way she looks at me.  She loves me.  She finds me funny.  Told me yesterday, in fact, “You funny, Gigi”.  I am so thrilled with her, and with my daughter, that I could almost explode.  I am entertained by my husband rolling around on the floor with her, and her squeals and giggles.  When she cries and sticks her lower lip out because things don’t go her way, I can’t help but chuckle, even when she is in deep with Mama.  

But! I have a new grandbaby on the way and more to follow, of this I am sure!   I am so looking forward to more joy, more disbelief, more, more and more.  I know the capacity to love is great in me!  I AM READY! 

I

What was that you said?

I started training to service a new virtual client. It has been a while since I have been challenged and I’m glad I took this on but it has meant that my days have been very, very long.

I told hubs about two weeks ago this was going to be a very stressful time, and I wasn’t wrong. I’ve put in 14 to 15 hour days at the computer and while I understand that sounds glamorous, it is so not. I am tired. My eyes are tired, my butt is tired and my feet are swollen. This is not, my friends, even remotely glamorous!

The scheduling of this training has been difficult because I also continue to work a certain number of hours in order to keep my budget in line, and is why the days have been long. This is the drawback of working for yourself, working from home. My training is at my expense. When I say yes to a new project, I pay for it. I also pay for my own sick time, vacation time, personal leave and that sort of thing. Guess who doesn’t have benefits?

Poor hubs has eaten well this week but not exactly served in style, nor early. He’s seen me in the same pair of flannel pants for four days at least and we won’t even start on my hair. He asked me one night if it was worth it as I don’t seem to “have a life”. Well, I pointed out, I told you it was going to be a very stressed two weeks. It’s been five days.

This is a recurring issue in our discussions. He has no sense of time when it comes to this kind of thing. Five days is not two weeks. Two weeks of a stressful schedule is not equal to not “having a life”. No, this is, as I have discovered through our years of marriage, his way of telling me there is something HE needs.

This afternoon, I had enough of my very long week and changed the last half of my day. Sent an email to hubs letting him know there would be a square meal this evening. I was pooped; I needed a break but so did he. It has been a long five days, and there will be more long days ahead but tonight, it was time to put up my feet, have a glass of red wine and enjoy a perfectly grilled steak. Anyone that has been married or in a relationship for any length of time knows you have to listen for and respond to the cues.

Not my kid.

Many blog posts ago I mentioned a group of lady friends that I have.  We’ve known each other for a long time now and have rallied, cheered and prayed each other through some great, and not so great times.  I have to say, though, more great than not.  We have kids the same ages and its been fun, to say the least.  

Of the original 10 members (we now boast 11), our youngest just graduated from college with her four year nursing degree.  This is our baby...the one we all carried around at some point, or sat in the nursery with, when she was the only baby there.  She was a chubby, beautiful, sparkly treat.  

I felt somewhat grown up when my own baby graduated from college, then got married.  As I looked at a few pictures from the youngest Yada (yes, we do have a name...) baby’s graduation, I felt really progressed.  Advanced aged.  I remember sitting with her on my lap and singing over the sparkly diamond on her little lacy anklets, while her blonde curls danced.  Now here’s a picture of her with her sparkly blue eyes and brilliant smile in a grown girl’s face.   

I am blessed with a great group of ladies, and their families.  I have had amazing experiences and adventures with them.  They entrusted their children to me on a variety of occasions, events and excursions.  I’ve sat up late with many of those children and heard their dreams, listened to them as they questioned their place, celebrated with them as they achieved a goal.  I would not trade those times for silver or gold...they are precious to me.  I watch (cause that’s what I do) as they move onward in their lives, no longer a part of their week or weekend, but as dedicated to them as I have ever been, still cheering. 

Allowing me to love your children...thanks ladies.  That’s more valuable to me than you may ever know.  

Wow.

Sunday night I, along with all of you, received news.  By now everyone knows that Obama announced the capture and death of Osama.  I felt my heart quicken and know an audible gasp escaped my lips when the interruption came through on a favorite evening broadcast.  I really can not reconcile all the thoughts that continue to race through my mind, and well, the days ahead will tell the story and the future of this great nation begins anew.  

I thought our President delivered the news with class and confidence.  I think of the times that I have tried to keep a secret and how difficult it is!   I get so excited, emotional or exasperated I feel I might pop.  How was this kept a secret? How did Mr. Obama go about his business, even a party? That’s nerves of steel, my friends. 

So many brave young people, so much time.  I am not an overtly political person and there is so much we don’t know about the last 10 years or the 100 years that preceded.  I wish I had kept an email that was sent to a co-worker of mine from her son-in-law who was serving in Iraq shortly after September 11.  The picture attachment is something I will never forget, as the smiling young soldier stood by a downed billboard.  On one half of the billboard was a crude representation, almost a cartoon,  of planes flying into two towers, with flames shooting out windows.  On the other half,  a caricature of Saddam Hussein, laughing.  I have felt, since that email first crossed my desk, that it is all much more closely tied together than a lot of us realize.  I am not a student of the Middle East nor do I keep as well informed as I should on these matters.  I have no idea if Saddam and Osama ever met, ever had lunch.  But I feel they applauded and encouraged each other and their hatred made them brothers, buddies, compatriots, pals.  I feel no loss for either of these men.   

That being said, I don’t feel like I can go to a parade over it, but I don’t mind if others do.  I don’t think I can fully put my thoughts altogether in one place as I am as conflicted on this issue and how to react as I have ever been.  On the other hand, I am as proud of the President, the military and their special abilities as any American could be.  Boo-rah, ya’ll.  Do not mistake my inner conflict with my patriotism, please!