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!

Tiny Little Miracle

Our tiny little miracle came in the shape of a preemie named Sophie Cadence on July 26, 2009. She was tiny and had some stomach problems but being a fighter, our worries were soon over. Sophie came at a time when I needed something in my life and I knew it had to be a miracle because let's face it there could be nothing else that would be acceptable to me.

She looks like her mother at times and somewhat like her father too. Sophie has grown in leaps and bounds and knows how to get what she wants when she wants it! You know when she is around because you can hear the giggling or roaring laughter in the room from all those around her. When she is in a playful mood with her Papa Gabe she will stick her pacifier or teething biscuit into his mouth. I tell him she is tired of hearing the talk, she wants to play, and play they do.

Papa Gabe will sing his rendition of "Cuban Pete" while Sophie starts dancing. Actually she likes for Papa to hold her at the waist while she jumps up and down kicking her feet until he stops singing. Sometimes she makes him sing the song two or three times, depending on her mood. Then there is time where she just wants to sit and watch TV with him. Of course the images go back and forth to her, but she gets a kick out of Papa when he hoops and hollers for his favorite team when they score. She laughs and jumps up and down waiving her little arms as if she is helping to cheer his team on too.

When nap time comes sometimes she just wants Papa to hold her and they both nod out. I try to put her in her crib but she cries out waking her daddy and he takes her back in his arms. She loves her Papa and he loves her. They are very close as it should be between parent and child. I wished both Mommy and Papa would have been able to stay together, but I know in my heart that they both love her and pray this sustains her for the rest of her life.

I speak only of what I know on Papa's side because I am his mother. When he first brought her over he had the baby carrier in one hand with the diaper bag that held all of the baby necessities, including a notebook that had Sophie's feeding and changing schedule. From the start Gabe was involved in everything, even caring for Mommy when she was still hurting from her C-section. He would wash Mommy's hair, help her shower, make her something to eat, etc. Of course the other Grandma helped too by caring for Mommy when Papa went back to work.

But even though the relationship between Mommy and Papa didn't work out they still had Sophie to remind them of when it did. Whether it is in her smile or gurgling, they can't deny that this wonderful, beautiful human being is truly a little miracle that we all needed in our lives.

When I hold her she stares into my eyes and the corners of her little mouth turn up. That smile melts my heart and I know in the future it is going to mean BIG TROUBLE when I start taking her shopping with me, from the first to the millionth time. I will cherish every moment as any Grandmother would and hope for a kabillion more to come...