Yes, they’re in – more pics of Little Guy! He and Mom are home, safe and sound. Beloved is heading up to L.A. from San Diego (where he’s doing business) this weekend, so I’m sure you’ll be bored senseless entertained with more photos of the World’s! Cutest! Grandson! again very, very soon.
Little Guy and Mommy in the hospital
He’s a Little Bitty Guy!
Home and Comfy
My favorite pic…so far
Have a lovely weekend, y’all!
As of 10:13 a.m. PDT, August 15, 2009 WE ARE GRANDPARENTS!
Welcome, Little Guy! 3 weeks early, but still 6 lbs. 15 oz. and 19 1/2 inches long. He was “making noises while breathing” which explains the tubes, but by 6:50 p.m. PDT he was fine and they were taking him to be with Jolly.
He’s just beautiful…like his Mommy (and Grandpa)!
As I was planting our vegetable garden this past weekend, I told Beloved, “This does not come naturally to me.” Okay, I may have snapped that at him, as he hovered over me correcting the way I did everything. And it doesn’t – I’m a city girl who hunts and forages at the grocery store…from a long line of city girls who have hunted and foraged at the grocery store. I’m lucky my one, lone house plant has not died (it used to be three lone house plants, but…well, two of them died).
Things I’ve Learned This Year About Gardening: buying a small plastic container of “starter” onions will result in you planting 2 dozen onions in the small space allotted to vegetables in your back yard, leaving you feeling incredibly guilty about throwing the other three thousand away. Who knew they could fit so many damn onions in that itty-bitty container??
Jolly and her honey have decided on a name for the new baby: Garret Van. Unfortunately, I have had trouble remembering it – at least his first name. I’ve taken to calling him Little Conversion Van, which tickles Beloved to no end; he wants to know if they have a daughter if I’m going to call her Recreational Vehicle.
*shrugs* Only if her middle name is Vehicle.
Hey, if you think I’m bad, Beloved refers to him as “Jolly’s Little Garrote.”
Thankfully, Jolly has a good sense of humor about it all. (As if she has a choice – she knows how we are.)
Beloved came barelling out of the bedroom this morning while we were getting ready for work, shouting, “I don’t believe it! They’ve got Lee Majors selling hearing aids on television!”
Yeah, well, that’s what you get for watching Saturday Night Fever at 7:30 a.m. on AMC.
Actually, I believe it. It’s certainly more apropos than Lindsay Wagner selling Sleep Number beds, Sally Field selling osteoporosis medication and is certainly more believable than Dennis Hopper hawking financial services for aging baby boomers.
But, you know, I’ve just got to wonder just how expensive those hearing aids are…
For more Random Tuesdayness, visit The Un-Mom.
So, Beloved and I were driving back from taking Oldest Son to the airport in Cleveland on Monday afternoon, just rambling on as we’re wont to do, when he says, out of nowhere:
“Yup, it’s time one of those kids made us grandparents.”
Now, this is a subject we’ve been sort of circling around for a year or so. Up until I turned 45, I had no desire to be a grandmother; in fact, I have been known to threaten my grown children with, “Anyone who makes me a grandmother before I turn 50 won’t live to see their offspring!” I also used to think that if none of the kids chose to procreate, it wouldn’t bother me a bit.
Somewhere, somehow, in the last year that has changed.
Beloved, of course, has always been a little more open to the idea of grandparenthood than myself, but until recently I believe that has sprung largely from a desire to see the “parent’s curse” in action.
You know the “parent’s curse” – of course you do.
“I hope that when you grow up you have kids who act JUST LIKE YOU!”
At any rate, lately we’ve found ourselves considering how much we’d love a sweet little bundle of joy that we can cuddle and play with and load up with sugar before sending them home to their parents. I mean, really – the more I think about it, the more appealing the whole idea is. So much so that I’ve begun asking TC and his wife when they’re going to make me a quasi-grandmother now that they’ve bought a house (they’ve politely declined so far, the finks).
You can imagine that no one could be more tickled than I when Beloved’s oldest, Jolly, called from California later that evening and announced that she and her fiance are expecting.
Pardon me while I jump up and down.
It is, of course, all Beloved’s doing, what with his prophetic little statement and all. Now I’m off to buy twelve pounds of baby yarn and a pattern book for crocheting baby stuff – afghans, booties, sweaters, caps. For a baby that is due in late August.
Because that’s the way I roll.