The last time I contributed to this blog was in 2009. So much has transpired since then that I knew it was time to pick up the pace and begin again. First, both of my children married. Sadly our parents have passed, and I retired from education in 2010. Finally, but most important, we are expecting our first grandchild. Lucy will make her appearance in a few short weeks, and I am overwhelmed with emotion.
Friends have of course said that it will be wonderful. I believe those words. But I was not expecting the anxiety and dreams I began having recently. I was overjoyed when my son and daughter-in-law shared the news. And I made plans accordingly. I have shopped for the little one. I helped decorate the baby's nursery, and I have even prepared a nursery in my son's room in our home. As the time grows near, I become hyper emotional thinking about her arrival.
Lucy will be in my arms in less than a month. Maybe this emotion stems from the reality that she is the first of her generation in our family. My nieces and nephews have followed the averages and either have not married, married later in life and have decided not to have children or have postponed having children. My son is the youngest male in my family, so his fatherhood is fairly early by those standards. The joy of holding a baby in my arms has eluded me for 28 years, so I am thinking that is part of the apprehension.
Every morning I wake a thank God for the beautiful day and all that he has in store for me. It is during these early morning hours that I visualize my granddaughter in my arms. I am gently rocking and talking to her about her father and other family members. I so want her to know how special she really is, and I find myself returning to those early days with my own children. I use to tell them they were miracles, and when I look at all births I do believe they are miracles. All of the physiological changes that must occur for a baby to be born is absolutely astonishing. And I want Lucy to know all of that. I want to fill her with goodness and kindness so that she has a sense to do so with others. I want to challenge her already to explore and journey into life with an inquisitive mind-always asking questions-always asking "why?".
Do I feel this way because I want to give her what I have imagined I was unable to do with my own children because I was too busy or too tired or whatever the excuse may have been? I think, like most mothers, I wished I had had more time at home with my children before school age, but I loved my career, so others helped me raise my children. But I believe that also shaped who they are, and I must say both of my children are great adults. They are fun to be with, so I will not despair when Lucy must spend her days in the care of others. I know that is ok.
Being a grandmother will give me the chance to share my love of reading, baking, gardening and watching old movies. I enjoyed those same activities with my children, but their days were filled with so many activities that some of my hobbies became daily chores. Because I read professionally every day, I rarely had time to read for pleasure (not that I didn't enjoy reading for work and to the children). So one of my luxuries I indulged in for a full week after school closed for summer break was reading as many books as I could in seven days. I would only stop to eat and use the restroom. That was how I relaxed until I had children. One day while I was immersed in a book, my toddler daughter asked "mama, will you pway with me?" so the book reading was shoved to the bedtime hours when I rarely read more than a few chapters before falling asleep. I want little Lucy to see me reading all day long. I cannot wait for her to say to me "Nana, will you read to me?"
I want to spend time teaching her how to cook and bake. Both of my children are great cooks and my daughter is a phenomenal baker, but they swear I didn't teach them because I was always in a hurry to get whatever prepared and the kitchen cleaned. That may be somewhat true, but I ask them how they learned if they hadn't been part of the process all of those years, and they have no reply other than they are intelligent human beings and can follow recipes. I ask them why then can't all intelligent people cook. They have no response. I will, however, take more time in the kitchen with Lucy. My mother did teach me to cook, out of necessity, but I learned non the less. My best memories of my mother are those in the kitchen helping her prepare three meals a day before I began school and then three meals a day in the summer. I remember working in the garden with her, and although it seemed like drudgery to me at the time, they are still my fondest memories. My own grandmother never really showed me how to cook, but I was outside most of the time during visits to her farm, so that would explain why. She did, however, cook and bake for days when she knew we would visit. Kolaches and popcorn balls were a staple. No wonder we all have weight problems. While I want to have those special treats for Lucy, I will steer her toward portion control-ha ha- so she will not have to live with weight issues her entire life as my children and I have.
I dry the last tear of the morning thinking about Lucy. I am a realist and know that she will develop in her own time and way. Things will not always go as planned, but at this time in my life, I accept that fact more easily than in my parenting years. I am ready for you Lucy!
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