Next time

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I'm over the moon with happiness and thankfulness that Mac arrived safe and sound yesterday. But I gotta admit, there's a fair tinge of sadness attached to my joy.

As a long-distance grandma who respected the request from Megan and Preston for neither of their moms to come right away ("to make it fair"), I won't be seeing, touching, holding Mac until he's three weeks old. And I won't get to witness Bubby's first few days of getting used to his new brother, or help out my daughter and her little family as they get through the first few days or weeks of the transition from a family of three to a family of four.

And that makes me sad. Even though I'm so happy.

Next time will be different, though.

Next time, I will ignore the request not to come right around the birth date. It worked for the other grandma, who gets to hug and hold new baby Mac one day after his birth. And occupy Bubby while my daughter heals. And cook and clean for the family. And help Mommy and Daddy get the hang of having a second child.

Yep, next time will be different.

Although, now that I think of it, the next time I'm blessed with another grandchild, the grandchild just might come from a different daughter. Not from Megan in the desert, but from a daughter who lives nearby. Maybe?

Which surely would make next time different.

Seriously and sincerely, I'm absolutely not rushing or coercing or trying to convince a daughter it's time for that, as it's clearly not time for either of my two other daughters. But still. One of them just might soon find it is time and just might be the next.

Either way, next time will indeed be different.

As far as this time is concerned, though, I'll focus on finding contentment and being truly, madly, deeply thankful, grateful, and happy about my new and healthy Baby Mac.

Even though I am a little sad.

Today's question:

I know of at least one person who will "tsk" and say I'm looking at the glass half-empty; I say I'm just being honest. Do you consider yourself a glass half-empty or a glass half-full kind of person?

Grandson No. 2 born!

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Baby Mac arrived at 2:10 this morning! Megan was on the phone with me barely 30 minutes later with the news. The healthy "big boy" weighed 7 pounds, 11 ounces and was 20 inches long.

Mom, baby, and Dad are doing fine ... now that their hearts have returned to resting rate after a mad-dash, usually-45-minute drive to the hospital, with Megan having contractions every two minutes and "ready to kill my husband" and Preston worrying he'd have to "play doctor." Baby Mac was delivered 30 minutes after they got to the hospital. Shew! Megan had been induced, but this was a far different scenario than the doctor described when administering the newfangled induction method yesterday afternoon.

Hooray for babies, healthy moms, and fast-driving dads! And hooray for technology allowing this long-distance grandma to get to see the baby mere minutes after he was born! (Thanks, Preston, for the photos!)

Now back to our previously scheduled programming (see previous post).

Letter to my only grandson

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Dear Bubby,

Your little brother will soon arrive and before he gets here, I wanted to tell you how very special it has been to have you as my first grandson, my only grandchild for the past nearly three years. In the seemingly short 35 months since you were born, you have rocked my world in ways I never imagined could happen.

Your entry into the family stretched my heart as it had never been stretched before. My heart swelled so as I held you, hugged you, swaddled you like the sweetest little burrito and kissed your downy face, a replica of your mommy’s 24 years before. That first time I left you to return home, my swollen heart burst into a million pieces at having to leave you, my arms literally ached for you for weeks after — muscle memory most raw.

Your mommy and I did our very best to ensure my arms would hold you as often as possible despite all the miles between us. Every couple of months, I would visit your home or you would visit mine. My heart would sing and swell again as my arms held you. But each time we were together, the amount of time holding you became less as you became so much more. So much more active, so much more silly, so much more independent, so much more boy.

The “boy” experience was a new one for me, as your mommy, Aunt B and Aunt Andie were my only babies, and baby girls are far different from baby boys … and not just when it comes to changing diapers. You were more active, more daring, more monkey-like than any of my girls. Stories from your mommy about the bruises and bangs and head-bonks you’ve endured while jumping off furniture, racing your cars around the house, playing chase with Daddy, and wrestling (and riding) Roxy made my heart swell in a different way: with panic and fear for your safety and well-being. But also with pride that your mommy, as protected as she was by me, had learned through you how to let go and let you be who you are, what you are: all boy.

I’ve loved your rough and tumble all-boy antics. Such pleasure comes from watching you run through the house, giggle your way down slides, chase after balls and balloons and bubbles, tussle with your dog, build tower trucks, race fire trucks, wholeheartedly adore garbage trucks, and furiously peddle your bike while calling for me to "be police” and chase you.

Part of what makes such things doubly delightful is the flip-side of those times. The sweet blown kisses and “squeezes” and “cheeses.” The moments snuggled together sharing books. The steadfast attention given to coloring, drawing, gluing, Play-Dohing, creating. The singing, dancing, smiling, sharing. Your newfound ability to joke, to compliment, and to say the truly darnedest things I've ever heard (especially when you lock yourself and Gramma out of the house).

My great and goofy — and downright gorgeous! — grandson, you were my first. You were the one to make me a grandma, to teach me that although my heart can break into a million pieces upon leaving you, it will grow back bigger and stronger each and every time I think of you, see you, hug you, hold you, hear you.

I am better because of you. I became “Gramma” because of you. And for that, my sweet Bubby James, you will always and forever be a most special part of this grandma’s soon-to-be-expanding-again heart.

I love you!

Gramma

Today's question:

When does your heart feel most swollen to capacity?

15 things I look forward to as a grandma

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As a relatively new grandma — and a long-distance one at that — I often feel like I've yet to get the full grandma experience. I've not yet had the joy of many activities, events and more that I hear about from other grandmas.

Typical grandma happenings I've heard about, that I look forward to experiencing include (but are far from limited to):

• Pre-holiday activities with the grandchildren: coloring Easter eggs, carving Jack-o-lanterns, trimming the Christmas tree.

• Attending school programs.

• "Thank you, Gramma" phone calls, e-mails, cards.

• Impromptu visits to Gramma's house.

• Working together in Gramma's pumpkin patch.

• Taking a youngster shopping for the perfect gift for Mom and Dad.

• Grandparents Day at school.

• Being introduced by a grandchild to his or her friends.

• Grandma camp.

• Picnics.

• Scary stories in the dark.

• Family vacations.

• Stargazing.

• Artwork to display on Gramma's fridge.

• Phone calls just to say "hello."

I've had incredible visits and awesome moments with Bubby. He's touched my heart like nothing before. I'm just eager for more. I look forward to more — from him and from all my grandchildren I've yet to meet.

Today's question:

What are you looking forward to, personally, professionally or otherwise?