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Monday, June 8, 2015

Just call me "Grandma"

Twenty-six days. That’s how long I had to keep this secret. The little mama-to-be wanted to wait until her first trimester was almost over to tell everyone but now the word is out.  I’m going to be a grandma!
Anastasia was quite insistent that our annual Mother’s Day brunch would be held at her house this year. Normally we do Merrickville and this year we thought a picnic might be nice but rain was in the forecast so Suzy Homemaker jumped on the opportunity to have it at her little bungalow. Her band of hunting dogs had to be banished to the outside to fit all the people in.
When we were all assembled, Annie handed me, her mother-in-law, her grandma and her aunt a card. I opened mine and saw it said “Happy Mother’s Day, Grandma.” I looked at Annie, who was peering at me with those big brown eyes that got her the nickname Tweety Bird when she was a baby.
“You gave me the wrong card, honey,” I whispered, giggling. I don’t know how many times I have bought a card because of the beautiful design on the cover or script inside, only later to notice that the greeting on the front was slightly off.
“No, I didn’t,” Annie said with a little smirk.
“Ohhhhhh!!!!!!” I didn’t even open the card. So happy. No words. Just scooped her up off the floor with a big hug.
Now, Annie and her hubby Andrew are young, so it isn’t like they have been trying for ages or anything, but they have been married nearly three years. And they did raise that litter of lab pups last winter. I guess that helped them to imagine introducing a baby into their busy lives.
I’m looking forward to helping with this new baby; the first grandchild on both sides of our family.
It won’t have a typical upbringing for a 2015 baby, according to its parents. Neither one of them is on Facebook or any other form of social media. They do own cell phones but they do not cease breathing or functioning normally if they accidentally leave their phone at home for the day. Their favourite activity is hunting. When they aren’t hunting they are chopping wood, or swimming in the river with their dogs, or helping someone to build or move something. They are on a baseball league and they rarely miss Sunday dinner with the family. I think they have their priorities straight.
I’m a young grandma, but not quite as young as my mother was when I had my first child. It’s great – I should still have the energy and strength to look after a wee one, so I can help my daughter out whenever she needs it. I’m looking forward to being the go-to person for babysitting, living just ten minutes away. Of course, I’ll share with the other grandparents, and I’ll try not to make a pest of myself.
The topic of discussion lately has been the gender of the new baby. We went shopping on the weekend, the little mama and I, and wandered into a baby store. It will be so much easier when we know the sex. Baby clothes are the icing on the delicious fat baby cake. I can’t wait to start buying them. But even though I know that any girl born to those two will be raised knowing how to drive a tractor, hit a baseball and shoot a gun, I still have trouble justifying dressing her in plaid and denim at the beginning. And if it’s a boy, I don’t want the frilly dresses I’m eyeing to be left unused in the closet. So I have to be patient again. For at least another twenty-six days.
Next month the parents-to-be are looking forward to a gender-revealing ultrasound. We never had such a thing when I was pregnant. I was allowed one ultrasound per pregnancy and my doctor said if we were meant to know the sex, there would be a window on the mama’s belly.
Excuse me while I go and google “gender reveal parties” on Pinterest. This baby is due December 31st. Just ike its mama, who didn’t arrive until January 11 – and Daddy was born January 12. I guess we know what we are doing this coming holiday season. Watching and waiting for a very special gift to arrive.

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