Gramma Hood

I remember praying for grandchildren one night. Yes, those little people that pee on you, poop on you, and scream at you. I felt as if I was never going to have the pleasure of waiting at the screen door with my heart jumping for joy as my sons pulled up in the driveway and the baby hadn't even gotten out of the car yet. Would I be too old? Not able to walk around with them in my arms because my arthritis had other ideas? Too slow because age had suddenly caught up with me?

Then one day my oldest son came over with the wonderful news my heart had longed to hear, "Mom, you're going to be a grandma." I don't remember anything passed those words because I was too busy daydreaming of endless shopping, looking up fun games for kids, a crib for my house, etc. Praying the "little one" would be healthy was added to my constant prayer list that I imagine any civil Grandma would have.

I even spent an entire week concentrating on names the baby would call me. My mother had a name, Nana or Gammy (by my two sons). My older sister had a name, Grammy. Now it was my turn. I needed something as special as my two predecessors. Something that would make me smile every time I heard it. Then it hit me. My mother and I had been watching an old English movie and there was this endearing little old lady (I'm only54 y.o.) that everybody loved and referred to as Mims. So that was my chosen name--Mimz. Of course I spelled it differently somewhat, with a z at the end but it was my name. At first my boys thought it was kind of dumb. My mother even suggested Mimi, but I stuck to my guns and stated, "My grandchildren will call me Mimz, not you." So everybody agreed to disagree and let it be Mimz. Even though everyone wound up calling my mother and I "The Grammas". Aye Chihuahua!

The day came when my son called me from the hospital to say the baby was three weeks early and coming soon. I prayed that the baby would be healthy and Mama would get through it without any problems. Little Sophie was born at the tail end of July and wound up staying in the hospital for a week until she reached 6 lbs. Papa couldn't get enough of her, finally his little girl was here and it was his turn to cry. That was 14 months ago and when her first birthday came he cried again. Actually he has told me he never stopped crying since he brought her from the hospital!

This grandchild of mine now plays games with her Nana and Mimz every time she visits. Running down the hallway screaming, hiding behind Nana's recliner with my mother calling out to her "Child, come herrrrre!" and little Sophie coming from behind the chair looking into my mother's eyes and laughing so hard. This game is played over and over until something else catches little Sophie's attention and off she goes running through the house again, much to her Nana's and Mimz' delight.

The news of another grandchild came again two months ago from Sophie's Papa. This time the doctors told him it was a boy. The tears again flooded my son's eyes. I am so glad he is comfortable enough in his own manliness to express his emotions. The wait is going to be too long for this baby too but it is going to be loved as much as the first. After all, isn't that what a grandmother is supposed to do, spoil her grandchildren? Anyway the baby is due on Valentine's Day and we can hardly wait.

But that isn't even the end of it, for my youngest son just came over to visit the other day and announced that he too will become a father. Of course he has a son from a previous relationship and the mother made it difficult for any of us to see the baby so my son stopped trying. One day I pray my first grandson will join us too because we all loved him when he was with us off and on from birth to one year. But now our prayers will have to suffice until then. My daughter-in-law has a son also from a previous relationship and we just love him. He's a sweet boy of 13 1/2 and is overjoyed with having a brother or sister. The baby is due early May of next year and I can't wait to hold him/her.

So now that my grandchildren are popping out like popcorn around here, I have a vision of a row of cribs in my room. Of course I am moving into one of the bigger bedrooms in the house but I love just the thought of being surrounded by my grandchildren. Yes, the little people that pee and poop on you and even scream at you. I wouldn't have it any other way!

Friends Forever

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When we are looking for someone to be our friend I have often thought about where our starting point is. Sometimes we are so into the perfect someone that we miss the one that could have been the friend we needed and the search would've been over sooner. Then there is the popular person we think we need as a friend when the person who had been loyal to us was never chosen.

Maybe it sounds a little too far fetched, but what if "you" aren't what this other person is looking for? You do realize you first have to be the person whom you seek. Are you the friend who would never turn your back no matter what happens? The friend that cries when your friend cries? Stick up for them when everyone else accuses them? Better yet what if your friend's significant other starts a riff between you two. What then?

I have been that friend, chosen and overlooked, so I know what I am talking about. I have also been successful at choosing friends when I wasn't even looking. While I was attending school I met three kind souls who adopted me as their friend. I have written about these three friends in a previous blog and pray that I never loose touch.

The other day I was visiting Facebook and received a message from someone I had gone to school with. We were best friends in high school. She was having a hard time with her mother, the usual teenager vs adult kind of thing. I of course was getting along with my family but my friend was in trouble. So I did the only thing I could do--stand with her. I took a towel with some of my clothes inside and walked to school like nothing was wrong. When we met at school she asked me what the towel was for so I opened it up. When she saw my clothes her mouth fell open as she asked, "You would've done this for me?" Without hesitation I replied, "Yes." We cried together then laughed til we cried again.

In our Facebook messages back and forth to one another telling each other how good it was to reconnect after so many years apart (we live in two different states) we promised to stay in touch. When I finished reading her message she signed off as "Friends Forever" and the tears filled my eyes.

Some friendships can never be "planned" or "chosen" because they just "happen" when you least expect them. I wouldn't have it any other way, would you?

The Day My Heart Felt Sad

Have you ever had an off day? Felt as if you just didn't feel up to par as your day moved on? You wonder if it is a bout of depression, but just scoot that thought out of your head because it is just too heavy to think about. You look for another answer but can't quite put your finger on it.

The tears fall down your cheeks and you take a deep breath and try to rehash your last few days. How did you get into this mode of sadness? It feels as if you are in a black hole and you can't muster up enough strength to climb out.

Sometimes it is just better to stay in bed for a while. Maybe sleep in a little longer.

This is what happened to me today and I couldn't quite figure out what the heck was going on. I didn't feel as if I couldn't go on any more, but the sadness just overwhelmed me. I was supposed to be getting a room emptied, the rug was to be removed and wooden flooring put in the next day. Not getting into that room until 4 p.m. was the best I could do. I removed as much as I could. Then an hour later my son removed the rest of the heavier furniture.

My son and his girlfriend made a delicious dinner of which I enjoyed and we even watched the Laker game. But after all was said and done and everyone went their own way I felt the sadness creep back in. I kept trying to think about the fact that on April 5th we will find out the sex of the baby my son's girlfriend is carrying. My grandchild.

The evening lingered and I decided to write this blog, hoping it would make me feel better. Which it has in some way but hopefully tomorrow will bring a brighter day. Maybe I will dive into a book that a friend wrote and when I am through I will write a much deserved review.

I often wonder if writers have off days. It makes sense that when you don't feel like doing anything, writing would be the best medicine. Have you ever felt like this before? If so what have you done to chase the blues away?