Monday, June 04, 2007

Payback Is A Grandmother

(Yes, folks, the posts are going to be very heavy on the "mom" and very light on the "secret agent" for the next spell here. As my roster has already learned, my booking brain is on lowest gear right now as I prepare to pop out my newest client.)

You forget things from one pregnancy to the next. It's nature's way of guaranteeing the propagation of the species, because if we could clearly recall every ache and inconvenience, let alone what happens at the end, it would be pretty hard to go through this ordeal more than once. But one of the pleasant things I'd forgotten was Grandbaby Watch.

GW '07 began tonight with a call from my dad. He was just calling to check in, see how I'm feeling, and get any hint possible about when this baby might come. Just like he'll do tomorrow. And the next night. And every evening until he and Cha Cha arrive in Memphis or the child makes his debut, whichever comes first. As their grandchild count has increased, my parents have gotten exponentially more excited about each addition. I was looking at pictures from Miss M's first month, and my folks look nearly as dazed as The Admiral and I. It had been more than 20 (okay, 25. Or so.) years since they'd last spent any time with a newborn and there was definitely a readjustment period.

I thought being the bearer of The First Grandchild would give me some cred over my older sister, who has always had the chance to be first at everything. But when her daughter arrived almost three years after Miss M, my parents were so much more comfortable and enthusiastic as grandparents that I sort of wished I hadn't been the one with the Rough Draft Baby. Not that they've been anything other than completely loving and attentive and overwhelmingly supportive with Miss M. They're just even better at the whole Cool Grandparent thing now.

Of course, after having two daughters and two granddaughters, this first grandson will be a whole new experience in itself. My mom actually hoped for boys when she was pregnant, since she'd basically raised her two younger brothers and figured she knew what to do with Y chromosomes, but my dad, the oldest of four sons, never had that heir urge. I know they're just about exploding with excitement, though, and that the gender really doesn't make much difference except how it relates to which side of the Baby Gap Outlet my mom will spend her time.

So I look forward to the nightly calls and the chance to share their excitement on a regular basis. I didn't want to start off too optimistic, though; I didn't bother to mention that I've spent the day feeling like we may be gearing up for ... something. Mostly because my impatience is probably translating into hyper-awareness of every twinge, and that the popcorn-and-soft-pretzel lunch I had might not be lending itself to the most settled interior feeling possible. But also because I know how excited they are to be here for the big event, and I don't want to tell them they might miss it until/unless I absolutely have to.

3 comments:

Kristy said...

Twinges? Any more?

RJA said...

I volunteer to be a stand-in grandparent until your parents can make it down. But only if I can be called Cha Cha.

Stephanie said...

I think Johnny Depp was responsible for most of the twinges.