Hudson James was born into the world this morning at 5:56 a.m. 

 He weighs 8lbs.7oz. and is 20 in. long. 

I can hardly believe it’s true, so I’m getting on a plane to go see for myself! 

Pictures will be forthcoming!

Halleluia!

Today I decided to dress up for Little Mister. 

I put on the earrings I wore to his mommy and daddy’s wedding. 

I slipped on the bracelet his mommy brought me from Africa. 

I donned the gold locket that holds a picture of his mommy when she was a newborn baby. 

I figured wearing all that bling would send some good vibes to my grand baby. 

You know, make him want to leave his cozy nest and come out into the world to meet his Nonnie.

Sure hope it works!

I’m looking a little nervous because…..

because……..

because…….

I think it’s working…….

Stay tuned….

See those cute little babies??

The one on the right is Katie, who I think might be……

maybe she’s……

stay tuned……

And the one on the left is Sam.  Oh, by the way, he recently became engaged to a beautiful young woman who I love with all my heart.  Weddings, babies, babies, weddings.  My cup runneth over.  But we’ll talk more about them later.

I’ve gotta keep my hand on my cell phone….

and the kleenex box handy……

and sniff some more Baby Magic lotion.

Ah…there….that will calm me down.

How is it possible to love someone who I haven’t even met? 

Before he coos his first coo,

before he smiles his first smile,

before his sweet voice says “Nonnie” for the first time,

before he does anything for me,

he is loved because……he is.

He will be loved when he cries, when he poops, when he is colicky.

He will be loved if he plays baseball or not.

He will be loved whether he is quiet or loud, silly or serious.

He doesn’t have to do anything, just be himself.

I know these things, because I have been loved like this.

So have you.

 First we were loved, now we love. He loved us first.   1 John 4:19

Nothing, you see, is impossible with God.  Luke 1:37

I decided to quit “watching the pot” today.  You know, a watched pot never boils.  I’m assuming a watched pregnant woman doesn’t go into labor, either.  So instead of checking my phone every two minutes, I am getting my mind off the impending birth of my first grandchild.  Here’s how I’m trying to stay distracted today:

1.  Turn on favorite tunes real loud and vacuum, mop, scrub, spit and polish.  Sit down and cry when Shane and Shane’s song “The One You Need” starts playing.

2.  Go to coffee shop downtown to have a coffee and read.  Read the same paragraph four times then leave.

3.  Stop at Walgreens to pick up a few items.  Find myself in the baby aisle sniffing Baby Magic lotion.

4.  Sit down to watch the Badger basketball game.  Flip channels during commercials and end up watching “16 and Pregnant”.

5.  Send texts to my husband, my sons, my other daughter, several friends, praise band kids, my third cousin once removed; everybody BUT the mommy-to-be.

6.  Consider making a big pin to wear to church tomorrow that says, “Yes, I’m still here.”

Well, that took care of part of the day….. 

You know, a watched pot does eventually boil.  Maybe I should call my girl and tell her that….yah, I think that’s what I’ll do….

Groundhog Day would’ve been a good day to be born.  I made the mistake of sending a clever text to my very pregnant daughter this morning: “I wonder if Little Mister will stick his head out to see his shadow today!”  Hardy-har-har.  My equally clever sister commented, “You better hope he doesn’t see his shadow today.  That would mean six more weeks!”  Tee-hee-hee.  It was even suggested my darling daughter find a donkey to ride around town for awhile as that seemed to do the trick for Mary….

Sorry, honey.  We are all just a little wacko right now.  We jump when the phone rings.  PB checks the airlines for immediate seating tickets several times a day.  I do laundry every morning so all our underwear is ready to be thrown into a suitcase in a moment’s notice.  Things are getting a little outta control. 

As nerve-wracking as this is, waiting for Little Mister to be born has been a good exercise in patience.  It’s healthy for us to be forced from time to time to give up some control.  We need to be reminded once in a while that there are things beyond our realm of influence.  Nature just has to take its course and there’s no sense in fighting it. 

Yeah right.

Super Bowl Sunday would be a good day to be born…

I can’t resist sharing this!  Last night when PB came home from a meeting I told him I wrote a blog entry about him (he only likes to read my blog when I talk about him….).  After reading, he said, “I bought two copies of Dumbo today, one for our house and one to take out to them.”   How cool is that?!

We’re getting a jump on this grandparent thing.

Back in the days of diapers, midnight feedings and spit-up, I used to escape once in a while.  On the last Monday of the month,  it was momma’s day out.  PB would stay home for a fun day with the kids.  I usually left a detailed list of who needed what and when and why and how.  It was vital for everyone to stay on schedule or I would pay dearly for my absence the next day.  Most importantly, before heading out the door I always sternly warned, “Not too much TV.  Read books, play outside, do arts and crafts, but don’t spend all day in front of the TV.”  Grinning children would give knowing glances to each other and say, “Bye Mom!”  I always wondered what actually happened in the moments after I drove out of the driveway.

One day, after returning from a refreshing time away, I was pleased to see the house in order, the kitchen clean, the children happy.  It had been a great day of fun with dad.  Books had been read, games had been played, pictures had been colored.  I was impressed.  Then I heard it:  PB’s lilting whistle in the other room.  I knew the tune immediately: “Casey Junior”.  You know the one:

“Casey Junior’s comin’ down the track, comin’ down the track with a smokey stack.”

That could mean only one thing.  PB had put baby Sam down for his afternoon nap, curled up on the couch with Katie and snoozed while she watched her favorite movie: “Dumbo”.  The whistle gave it away. 

Thinking about this memory kinda makes me want to watch the Disney classic again.  I hope Poppa will get to snuggle up with Grand Baby someday and watch the baby elephant come floating down to the tune of “Look Out for Mister Stork”.  I hope I can rock-a-bye with Little Mister while we watch Dumbo rock in his mother’s trunk to the tune of “Baby Mine”.   I hope we can tell him how this was his mommy’s favorite movie.   

I’ll tell ya, waiting for this baby to come is turning me into a puddle of nostalgic goo. 

Dear Grand Baby,

You have no idea what is waiting for you on this side of the womb.  People are lining up to meet you and I’m first in line.  Poppa will be next, followed by aunties and uncles.  There are no midwest cousins yet, but someday.  You will be the trailblazer, the pioneer, the elder.  There are grandparents, uncles, aunts and lots of cousins to the west.  You will be the youngest on that side of the family tree.  No matter where you go, love will be waiting.

More than counting your fingers and toes, more than watching your blue eyes blink, more than holding your bundled body, I can’t wait to smell you.  The perfume of a freshly born baby is intoxicating.  I think it must come close to what eternity smells like.  So I will fly hundreds of miles to rock-a-bye, sing a lullabye, laugh and cry, and breath deep your scent of heaven. 

We are waiting patiently.  It’s almost time.

Love you forever, Nonnie