Dear FB, You would do well to listen to your elders. This world can be tough, but those who have gone before you have words of wisdom to ease your way. Don’t Be Boring! Thank Robert Frost! Dance! Create Something That Will Make The World Awesome! Play Ball! And other stuff… Love, Us …
Not a grandmama….yet! I am still having a difficult time imagining myself as a grandmother. Just this week I’ve cussed, threatened to kick some figurative ass, eaten candy, danced a little in the streets when I was running, and yelled, “HEY, BABY!” to a neighbor. I don’t know any grannies like me. Do you? WHO …
Let me tell y’all that I’m feeling the excitement grow as FB* dives lower and Momma starts peculating. No. Nothing, as in active labor, is happening right now, but it could happen in under a week. I have the 29th in the baby-pool, but Girl needs to get to the 31st, for school purposes. ON …
I can’t get out of my mind how Boy and Mrs. Boy must be feeling as they round third to FB’s due date. All the emotions prior to Boy’s birth have settled in my bones these last few weeks. They appear in moments of quiet. They shout YES! when I get an update from Boy. …
Today is Boy’s birthday. In a few short weeks he will become a first time dad (making me a first time grandmomma!). In a few short weeks he’s going to intimately understand the deepest love there is on this planet. In a few short weeks he’s going to look at me, not as an insane …
I checked my email first thing this morning and BAM! there in my in-box, from Mrs. Girl, were instructions on how to get to the hospital when the time comes for FB* to be born. It gave me a thrill. This thing is gettin’ real, y’all. Not that it isn’t already, but you know how …
Getting in shape to be a grandparent is kinda like getting in shape for a half-marathon: * Takes planning – What will you be called? * Takes eating right – Gotta build stamina for horsey rides. * Takes a sense of humor – Some days you’ll get a little poop on ya (that’s just wrong). …
NOOOOOOOOoooooo! This was my internal reaction when Boy casually told me of his future plans to move out-of-state -someday- and take my future grandchild with him. NOOOOOOOOOOoooooo! My outward reaction was a bit more muted, but nevertheless sad/disappointed/and starting the grieving process. It’s bad enough that Boy and Mrs. Boy live 4.5 hours away, but …
Oh Dear Readers, I’m going to be a grandmother. Me. The gal who cusses like a sailor, shoots guns, runs marathons, yells at the Crazy Bitches of Whatever City at Bravo, is mortified by Honey Boo Boo but still manages to watch, eats candy like a 12-year-old, snorts while laughing and finds fart jokes immensely …
