Yesterday's Commute

 My walk to 'work' yesterday was filled with magick....

I witnessed a little mob of starlings in a treetop and enjoyed their crazy, freeform mutterings.

I did not slip on any ice! (Hooray!)

Everyone I passed ignored me completely, even after I said 'hello' (what's up with that??), except for a wizened man (who looked like he was a hundred years old) who stopped me with his toothless smile, pointed at ducks on the river, said, "Aren't they BEAUTIFUL?", grinned and wished me a happy new year, and then shuffled on. (He was a gnome, I'm sure of it.)

There was a man and his dog in the snow, playing with a frisbee, and the dog was having the time of its life.

Leaves, leaves, leaves.

And clouds!

And the sounds of dripping, melting icicles.

And shadows....

And a studio that hasn't seen me for a bit.

And some FaceTime with this faraway grandbug. 

Due to a sudden poor connection partway through our computer visit, my face was frozen on her screen, and it remained so until the end of our conversation. 

As we said our goodbyes I was hesitant to throw her a kiss (as is our custom) because I wasn't sure she'd know when to catch it. And when I told her this, she just laughed and said,

"Oh, Yaya! I will catch anything you throw at me!" 

See? MAGICK.

...

Remember Me?

Chili peppers sometimes like the color pink and wear slippers. :)

I've yet to share a post in this crazy month of March and it's nearly over.

How can that be, I wonder?

Well, truthfully?, I think I understand. There've been bills to pay, movies to catch up on, appointments to keep, visits to make. I've been to California and back again, I've written letters and postcards, I've taken a bajillion photos....

There were planes and trains and automobiles in my March. Backpacks and strollers and car seats.

There were crowds of people poking pins in my Comfort Zone, and legions of thoughts filling up the rooms in my head.

I saw cherry trees in blossom, daffodils nodding along the roadside, snow on the mountains. I walked trails. I appreciated pines so tall and air so fresh and beer so exquisite that I thought I was on another planet. I collected leaves, acorns, pennies, maple keys. I studied millipedes and treebark and bear tracks and banana slugs....

And I loved on a grandbug so small and feisty that I'm thinking of calling her my little chili pepper. Seriously -- so dang small I could tuck her in my carry-on for the return trip home again! And believe me, it was tempting....

She dubbed me 'yaya,' can you believe it? (Finally -- an honest-to-goodness gramma name.) And I drew pictures of her and sent them to my Minnesota 'bugs. And ever since I've been dealing with the sad goodbyes and the difficult withdrawals and the Dark Looming of the Rabbit Hole....

After all the activity (granted, I didn't run any marathons, but my month's still been excessive by my standards) I was visited by a crazy Fibro flare-up that's had me up to my neck in hot soothing baths, soft clothes, and Aleve. And I've been taking quiet care of myself, care that involves stepping back from all forms of communication while I try to reunite my two halves and multiple personalities.

And now today I'm feeling almost sort of vaguely like myself again, if you can believe it. So I thought I'd drop a line to you just to let you know that I'm still here. And you're in my thoughts. And that if this is the only message I manage to send in this crazy month of March, I apologize. And I hope you can understand.

Deal?

Sweet.... :)

Happy Vernal Equinox, my friend. I've missed you. (*Hug*)

~delayne.
...

Whoops! Woe! Work! Whew!

The weekend had a lot of blah in it, and it's all my own fault....

I was in the process yesterday of finishing an art piece that I've worked on periodically since before Fest was even over for the season, and -- wouldn't you know it! -- as my mind wandered and my hand worked, I watched my own self make an error that I couldn't correct.

No electric eraser was gonna come to my rescue as this was a big old ink error. I cursed creatively. I beat myself up. I appealed to the art gods. I weighed my options. I couldn't figure out how to incorporate my mistake. And I couldn't bear to take an X-Acto knife to it and mortise in a solution. So I shut the door on it all and walked away.

But inside I knew what I had to do; I just didn't want to do it. And there was no time to think creatively, as the piece would be my gift to my grandson, whose first birthday party was scheduled for today. 

 

Within minutes of realizing my error, I phoned my daughter and explained the situation, and she completely understood if I was unable to finish the gift on time.... But I was less understanding. I couldn't cut myself the slack! Maybe I could have somehow if what had happened to it was an accident. But this was an error of 'seeing.' I'd literally drawn something incorrectly and then inked in my mistake, and I couldn't forgive myself. I knew better.

 

I would have to start all over again.

 

So all night long I worked -- retracing what I could salvage and redrawing what I couldn't, then blocking out my color choices, inking in my pencil work, and rendering the color. And drinking coffee, too. And watching hoaky late-night television.... 

 

I couldn't leave anything until morning. PartyTime was noon, and I was afraid that if I went to bed at all I'd oversleep. The piece was eventually framed at 5:00 a.m. and I debated even bothering going to bed at that hour. But then I realized that it was Daylight Saving Time -- sleep was mine after all! Yes, it was just an hour, but it was a dipped-in-GOLD hour. 

 

Now the party's over. The gift's been given and received. And seeing the finished piece satisfies me. That being said, today I'm thankful for:

• The big clunky x-ray viewer that I use for a lightbox. (Beats heck out of the pane of window glass and the desk-lamp-on-the-floor-at-my-feet that I used to use.)
• Autumn Daylight Saving Time!
• Waking up not feeling hungover-ish from sleep deprivation.
• A corner slice of birthday cake. (Three times the frosting!)
• A grandson so handsome that I could just kiss his face off.

See? Most beautiful boy EVER.

:)

...

Snowflakes and Smiles

(Would you believe we're supposed to be napping?)

There are snowflakes in my village today! Only a few, but still.

And I have yet to pay attention proper to my favorite season of the year, so if they know what's good for them, they'd better make their visit brief. Just sayin'.

Because there are still loose Fest-related ends to gather and tie, belated birthdays to celebrate, Halloween flotsam to gleefully wade through, and so much battening down of hatches to do before the snow comes.

And dang if this girl's battery isn't down for the count....

But it's not so depleted that I can't enjoy a Bug Day. And yesterday was IT. I got to pick my eldest Bug up from preschool and hold her mittened hand all the way back to my house, stopping repeatedly to check out fairy-sized holes in oak trees and add acorn caps to our pockets. Every step of our walk was a cold and blustery adventure, its soundtrack one of wind in the trees and the crunch of leaf piles underfoot and the enthusiastic, run-on sentence delightfulness that is the Grandbug's communication style, itself animated dramatically and told in notes that only dogs can hear.

Before our coats were even off at our destination she was cleaning pet dishes and dispensing foodstuffs (she takes her jobs at my house uber-seriously), and then we were on the floor together, re-enacting at her suggestion her favorite moments of this year's Festival. A stuffed chicken became the Piccolo Pony. A toy firetruck was the ladder for our dolls to mount it. (One doll was afraid she'd fall, but another said in a cute cartoon voice, "I will hold onto you. You'll see -- it's FUN.") Then a plastic bowl became the Butterfly Ride. As Avery gently twirled the bowl in the air she said to me, "Gramma, remember when you took me on the Butterfly Ride? That ride was awesome." (Said with her characteristic lisp -- 'awe-thumb.' The ride is a no-frills device made to rotate as a result of two adults in the center pushing it manually. This girl has already been on theme park stuff that would give me nightmares, but she remembers the Butterfly Ride. And it was awesome....)

Later on, Grampa James surprised her by arriving home early (I'm not the only one who thinks a Bug Day is worth dropping everything for) and he suggested we all bundle up and walk to nearby Hardees for lunch. Avery explained to him that her walk with me from preschool earlier was all fun and stuff but "my armth and legth and feet and handth got really really tired!", so he dug the stroller out from the garage and tucked her into it for the trip. Hamburgers got cold what with all the excited talking, but milk was consumed so I called it a satisfactory lunch. And on the way home we took a more scenic route and I asked her what her favorite part of the day was so far and she said, "All of it."

Once back again at Tumbledown, Avery informed us that she was tired and demanded that all three of us cram into my bed for a nap. But a book must be read first, of course. Bless her, she picked Where's Waldo and searched each page with serious intent, which allowed me and Grampa to, ahem, 'rest our eyes' in turn. (Because there's a brand of tired that only Bugs can manufacture, and it'll knock.you.OUT.)

No napping occurred. No surprises there. But there's just something about spending a chilly Autumn afternoon curled up on a candlewick bedspread with a book and a Bug.

I may have felt even more tired afterward, but my heart was charged to the absolute max. :)
...

Busy, Busy, Busy!

My 3-year-old grandbug at Fest's 1st Weekend

My Eldest has been home, the MN Renaissance Festival has gotten underway, and since I wrote last I've been knee deep in grandbuglets and Fest preparations. It's all been a blur!

And in a few moments I'll be heading out to the site to get an early start on the 2nd Fest Weekend of the season.

There are so many things I want to tell you and so many people I want to thank for making my 1st Weekend so dang memorable. But Time has caught me up and it will all have to wait, sadly.

But when we do 'meet' again, I'll just have that much more to share with you! :)

Can't wait that long? Then come out and see me at Mayfaire, shop #443 by the Crown Stage. You'll be glad you did!
...

Long-Distance Love -- :)

What could she be thinking, I wonder... :)

I recently had one of 'those' days: migraine filled and vise-like, oppressive and pressurized. I couldn't read, I couldn't draw. I became fixated on water.... I drank gallons of it and retained it spectacularly.

I should've guessed that my agony had something to do with the barometric pressure; most people feel approaching weather changes in their bones, but I think I feel them in my head. Either that or too many sun-filled days and I just spin a storm from my pain.

In any event, I went to bed that night exhausted and medicated only to have flashes of lightning on my eyelids interrupt my dreams and wake me. Having heard no thunder I half believed I'd dreamed the lightning, too, so I went outside in the dark and sat on the front step in my nightshirt. Sure enough -- a barrage of lightning flashes illuminated some distant clouds like a strobe. Just heat lightning, perhaps, as there were still twinkly stars in the sky. I went back to bed.

After my alarm sounded in the morning I curled under the covers with Boo and watched the sky outside my window darken dramatically. My headache had vanished and the storm had arrived at last! Windows were thrown open then to hear every thunder crash and catch every rain-freshened gust. Coffee was brewed. A candle was lit....

The household pets (the ones that respond to my alarm every morning with 'feed me!' cries) had interpreted the gloom as a return of the night and they hunkered down to sleep once more. My book-filled living room was still and shadowy. I watched as rain filled the street with a pool of swirling water that bubbled and frothed at the curb as it fed into the grate there faster than the storm sewer could accept it. I saw leaves and road flotsam caught in the eddies like fairy boats. I thought of my kids and days long ago when the three of us would be at that same window watching a similar scene....

And just then my phone gave a ping!: a text from my Eldest in California, asking was I available for a video chat. In my head I immediately thought, "She felt my vibes! She's on my frequency!" :)

And when our computer cameras connected, who should I see on the screen but my newest grandbug, front and center, responding to my face with coos and clicks and smiles. I talked to her and she listened. Then she talked to me and I listened. (Did you know that fairybabies have secrets they only tell their granny oddmothers? Well, they do!) I learned all about her recent camping adventure and how she was so keen on not missing a moment of it that she kept her poor parents awake the entire trip! :)

The storm wore itself out about the time our conversation ended. My little bug went off to nap and I went off to draw, thinking fondly of family and fairybabies. And the technological wizardry that can now connect us across the miles.
...

Just What the Doctor Ordered

I happily kept my 3-year-old grandbug for a bit yesterday to give her mama a little break.

Her visit was just what I needed.

In the few hours we were together she and I built a castle out of Legos. We watered the parched and yellowed pea plants in the weedy raised bed. She 'painted' the old weathered fence by spraying it with the garden hose. And I packed her a snack for the road....

Before our walk she helped me count quarters into dollars. (Me: "Do you know what a quarter is?" She: "Yes. It's a circle with a picture on it.") Then I loaded her into the stroller and the two of us headed off together to see a neighbor's chickens before traveling on into town for some lunch.

On our way we passed a garage sale in progress, and there on the curb was an old-fashioned wooden school desk. Avery spied it immediately and craned her neck to study it as we passed. "Oooooh," she said. "Gramma, I sure like that big kids' chair!" I did, too. And I spent the rest of our walk figuring out how I could possibly buy it and where to put it if I did....

I bought her a burger and fries and an orange drink with the quarters we'd counted, and she curled up in a booth and stirred her ketchup with one finger. I helped myself to her fries.

"Gramma!" she scolded, her brows knit together. "You ate one of my fries. You're supposed to say, 'please, can I have a fry.'"

I said, "Oh, I see. Please, can I have a fry?"

Instant cheer. "Sure, Gramma; you can have TWO fries! Here, I'll dip them in ketchup for you!" So generous. :)

We took a different way home, primarily to avoid the garage sale. (I didn't have the heart to pass the desk again and see her longing for it....) Her mama was waiting for us when we arrived. I'd hardly unbuckled her from the stroller and accompanied her inside before the poor thing melted down spectacularly. I said, "Uh-oh, I think someone's tired." And she said, dramatically, "Gramma, I am SOOOOO tired!!" 

And apparently I was, too. Because after she left I went inside and crashed. I slept until dark! And there was no reason for it. It wasn't like we'd spent those hours climbing trees or running races. I think I was just exhausted from the effort of being In The Moment. 

I wish sometimes that my brain was a DVR and that every time I'm with my grandchildren I could just press the 'rec' button and make each visit into a memory movie. Wouldn't that be the best?? I could just relax then, knowing that it would all be there for me to replay over and over again.... Maybe then our visits wouldn't tire me out so much....

Anyway, when I woke, I realized I'd wasted an entire afternoon sleeping when I could have been working. And then I corrected myself: no part of my day was a waste.

It was all dipped in holy gold.
... 

Fishing for Mermaids

Here she is. See the twinkle in her eye? :)

James and I drove to my Youngest's house to babysit for a bit late last Saturday afternoon, and Miss Avery (my 3-year-old grandbug) conned the two of us into watching Disney's 'The Little Mermaid' for the billionth time while she ate her supper. 

 

The first time we all watched it together, Avery sat between me and James on the couch and used my arm to cover her eyes when Ursula the sea witch robbed the mermaid Ariel of her voice. Then when the film was over she dubbed me Ursula and herself Ariel and we played 'Little Mermaid' together. Grampa James got to be dashing Prince Erik, a character in our play that was never called upon to do anything, and so he sat on the sidelines and watched instead. (Her little brother -- the real Prince Erik -- was not given a role at all. He apparently wasn't old enough for our game.)

 

I played Ursula to the best of my ability, curling my fingers and arching my eyebrows and mwa-ha-haaaaaaaaing with evil delight. It was a fun part to play and Avery soon saw the advantage in it. It didn't take long for her to switch our roles and soon she was playing Ursula most often, snatching my voice away with wicked glee and refusing to give it back. And I really played up Ariel, too -- pointing at my throat in a panic and silently begging for mercy while Avery crossed her arms and shook her head at me, ignoring my pleas. Her pretend power was obviously intoxicating, but eventually her soft heart won out and she'd zap my voice back. (Unsurprisingly, when the movie ended on Saturday she again asked me to play Ariel to her Ursula, and I couldn't help but think how important that pretend power must be to someone who's only three years old.)

 

At dusk last Saturday evening I walked Avery to the nearby lake to look for tadpoles while Grampa James stayed home and played with her little brother Erik. She brought her fishing pole and I brought the bucket and the two of us sat on the edge of the dock and gazed down into the shallow water while she dunked the rubber plug on the end of her line. 

 

"Hmmm. I'm not sure I see anything," I said. "Well, I see water bugs," said Avery. After a while she thought aloud that perhaps something would come to her 'hook' if she sang, so she did. And then she feigned a tug on her line and reeled it in. "Look Gramma, there's a mermaid on my hook! Put her in the bucket!" I grabbed the bucket and in she went.

 

Five invisible mermaids later, Avery pretended to catch an invisible sea witch. There was much fun shrieking and feigned panic and shouts of "throw her back!" A handful of high school kids partying on the end of the dock walked past us on their way to the parking lot and a boy (seeing the plug on the end of Avery's line) snickered, "Catch anything?" And Avery immediately piped up in her little lisp, "Uh-huh! We caught five mermaids! And a sea witch, too! But we threw her back before she could take away our voices!" 

 

Everyone stopped in their tracks. All that was missing was the sound of crickets. And then after a moment of stunned silence a girl whispered, "That. Is. SO. CUTE."

 

:)

...

To Fairyland and Back Again

I haven't written in a bit because I've been away.

For a whole wonder-filled week I was on a grandparenting adventure. I'd wake every morning to a vista view of skyscraper pines and distant snowcapped mountains, and spend long morning hours rocking my newest grandbug and enjoying girl talk with her mama. We 'grown-ups' enjoyed huge cupfuls of fancy coffee, and breakfasts of hot bagels and homemade pancakes, and sweet moments spent listening to the wind in the trees and little Abigail sighing in her sleep.

Abigail is a fairy child if ever there was one in my family. Little and long, with laser eyes that look right into my soul. Every time we walked past a window together she'd arch her back and look out at the forest, as though remembering that that's where she came from. And if she was fretful, all that seemed necessary was to lay her down by a view of the trees. (Changing table right next to a window = best idea ever.) 

Three days into my visit and we were already on an adventure together as her parents drove us high into the mountains for a picnic. I closed my eyes to avoid seeing the narrow switchbacks and plummeting ravines, but Abigail rode peacefully in her carseat, staring out at the world with wise eyes. This was her turf. Such a nature sprite couldn't have found herself in a better situation, and I suddenly suspected that she'd be leading her daredevil parents on even bigger adventures than they were already used to. (And they're used to big adventures.) 

My daughter and her husband live in a sweet little California town full of quaint shops and cute cottages, and every drive down the hill towards it brought new discoveries: Clouds of roses billowing over a cheery picket fence, or chickens pecking in a cottage garden. The place was right up my alley and I couldn't help but ponder a move there, until I thought of my other grandbugs back at home, and then all plans went out the window. I'd just have to be that grandma. The one that travels and likes it. It'd mean buying some rugged shoes for the constant stepping out of my comfort zone.

Before my arrival I'd imagined that sitting in a chair and staring at that beautiful baby would last forever, but Time fast-forwarded through my week there. As was predicted, I didn't want to leave. The tears began days before my flight home again. Leaving my baby and her baby was enough to send me into a tailspin. I said goodbye and rode the tram to the airport terminal sobbing my heart out, surrounded by businessmen who openly stared at my tears. How could they not know what was going on inside me? My daughter, the one I suspected was too daredevilish to tie herself down with a child, has embarked on The Adventure of All Adventures.

And now both my Girlz have children of their own, families to raise, lives to live. My work here is ending.... Suddenly I realized that Time had fired a starter pistol and begun a mad dash with me roped to it unwillingly. And dragging my feet was not slowing us down....

I've been home for over a week now, and sometimes I wonder if my trip to California even happened at all or if I just dreamed it. My days are full once more playing catch-up with all I've got on my plate for the summer. There are drawings to do and gardens to weed and thoughts to think. And another trip to plan for.

Because I will see that fairy baby again while she's still tiny enough to hold in my hands. :)

  ...

Best Easter Ever

Happy birth day to my sweet new Easter grandbunny, Miss Abigail, whose birth this morning reminds me of just how much I love this stage of my life.

Not that I didn't enjoy being a mother (or, in my case, an oddmother). It's just that being a granny oddmother is completely different. It's like motherhood with fairy wings, I swear.

I've been hearing for years about just how special this stage of life is and I have to admit I was a little afraid of it. I'm not a kid person. I thought I'd made an exception for my own offspring when they appeared way back when, but perhaps they could even tell. I was probably only fooling myself into thinking I was capable of being someone's mom....

Giving birth is hard enough. But mothering is the hardest thing any woman could ever do, I'm pretty dang sure. There are the small victories and the larger-than-life doubts, the ups and downs and joys and sadnesses. The comparisons -- gawd! Mothers everywhere with their my-way-is-the-only-way opinions. I thought for sure I was wrecking my Girlz more than I was raising them. And I wondered if the Universe knew what It was doing when It put them in my life.

But sometimes I half suspect that all those difficult paths led to HERE. Right here. Right now.

Because being a granny oddmother suddenly defines me to a T. I like this role. It has character! And magick! And scene-stealing dialogue one can sink their teeth into. And I can play it until I'm a hundred and ten and not have to worry about fitting into the ingenue costume or losing my part to someone younger or better suited for the role. Because there's no one better suited for the role! At least not on this stage.

And, bless us, grandmothers everywhere are like a big sisterhood. We can do what we do without worrying about other grandmas getting in our faces and saying, "it's wrong to serve dessert for lunch," or "rocking a baby to sleep does more harm than good," or "letting a child stay home from school just because it's snowing outside for the first time this winter just leads to more bad habits." We know that Life is all about the little things that are really big things in disguise.

And maybe we suspected as much back when we were mothers ourselves. But all the other things on our plates blinded us then. Supervisors and doctors and peers and even perhaps our own mothers urged us to toe the line and conform. Act like responsible adults. Use tough love.

But no one tells grannies what to do. We've got wisdom and experience on our side!

And cookies. :)
...

A Week Well Spent

The World's Cutest Toes

Last week was easily the busiest of weeks. The Grandbug's daycare closed after the Fourth of July holiday for a week-long summer vacation, and when asked, I eagerly agreed to step into the roll of babysitter once again. I used to provide Granny Daycare back in the day when the Bug was a baby, and I admit I went through some sad withdrawal symptoms when her parents decided to enroll her in a program with kids her own age. So opening the doors to Granny Daycare once more was amazingly rewarding. And thoroughly exhausting. But in a good way.

 

Together, Miss Bug and I painted our toenails red and our fingernails silver. We picked sweet, fat peas and ate them raw, straight from the garden. We released a newly hatched Monarch butterfly into the summery afternoon and rediscovered the magic handknit slippers, the ones that take us on spectacular indoor adventures. With a length of dental floss I repaired the sockmonkey's blown seam and she sealed the healing process completely with a sloppy kiss. We talked about dreams, we discussed the potty, we read books about big sisters and new babies. We poured imaginary tea into imaginary teacups, dispensed fairy-sized gingersnaps, and gave out dozens of hugs. And we rocked in the darkness of the nursery with our arms around each other....

 

Yes, I napped the evenings away afterwards, but with a smile on my face. My time was VERY well spent.

...

A Most Magical Day

Fairyberries!

Overhearing the mutter and murmur of wren nestlings as I pass the backyard birdhouse that my dad made for me.

Discovering the first fairyberries of the season (and on the Summer Solstice, too!).

Walking up and down the aisles of a local hardware store while outside a thunderstorm rages....

Admiring galvanized wingnuts, copper washers, and lengths of ball chain and imagining how they could all go together to make a dang fun necklace.

Enjoying a phone call from the Grandbug telling me how she'd 'dog paddow'd' at her first-ever 'thwimming lethen.'

Leaning down to pick lettuce leaves from the garden at dusk and spying a most exquisite dragonfly resting there....

Grabbing just any old book from the shelf before making a lap for the cat, and then discovering that it could only have been hand-picked for me by the Universe Itself.*

Sleep full of dreams, dreams that I can still recall and am comforted by.
...

*The Pull of the Moon by Elizabeth Berg. Read it. Read it, read it, read it.

To My Grandbug

Dearest Sweet-pea,

Since we met, my life hasn't been the same. Stars shine brighter now; colors sing sweeter. And for the first time in forever I have a sense of hope. I bless the day that you came into my life. And today is the anniversary of that day.

Happy second birthday, beautiful girl. I love you so much my heart sparkles.

Love,
Gramma
...

5 Magical Things About My Day (3/10/11)

1. Enjoying each spectacular selection on Loreena McKennitt's new CD, The Wind that Shakes the Barley.

2. Reconnecting with an artist friend whose opinions mean the world to me.

3. Curling up in the big rocking chair with my sweet grandbug and watching PBS Kids while she feeds me goldfish crackers and leans her cheek in for a kiss.

4. Dripping icicles, blessed sunshine, and a bit of green in the front garden.

5. Watching quietly as twilight turns Tumbledown to shadows....
...

Meet My Newest Muse

My mom'll agree, I'm sure, that I've always been an odd daughter. And my own girlz will pipe up that I am definitely an odd mother. And now with this new addition -- my dear grandbug -- I'm literally a granny oddmother.

I've got a lot of hats now, all of them odd in one way or another....

I was just a 20-something kid when I gave birth to my girlz. And during their vulnerable, growing-up years I spoonfed them nothing but Drama-with-a-BIG-D. (Sorry, Girlz; a day doesn't go by that I don't wish I'd handled things differently....)

But in spite of all my selfish wailings and chewings of scenery they quickly outdistanced me in the Functioning Adult department and have since grown into beautiful, amazing women living fabulous lives, both of them now happily married, and the Youngest a mother to a daughter of her own.

James was sure I'd have a major meltdown about becoming a grandmother, and I admit now that I was a little afraid that I would, too. Magically, I was asked to be in the delivery room for the baby's birth, and that might've made all the difference, as the event probably ranks highest on my list of I-Can-Die-Happy-Now moments.

I confess that I didn't watch my own babies come into the world. My eyes were closed, for one thing, because I was pushing my insides out through the eye of a dang needle! (Were epidurals even available then? and if so, why wasn't I aware??) Plus, I have to admit that I was more than a little afraid of what my own lady parts must look like in their trauma of stretching to hell and back! Yet, my daughters' births were still indescribable... And totally monumental... And crazy-ass breathtaking miraculous in an only-another-mom-can-know-what-this-is-like kinda way.

I just wish I'd watched now.

Because I did watch the grandbug. And there are no words to describe what I witnessed.

I felt afterwards as though a veil had been wafted aside and I'd accidentally seen The Big Secret. I was afraid that if I dared to blink it would all be erased from my memory. Truthfully? I didn't sleep for days. I kept replaying it all over and over again. I wrote it down. I tucked it in my heart....

My dear grandbug arrived with sparkles and spells and awesome special powers. She transformed my James from a kid-hatin' bachelor into a guy who turns into a sweet blithering idiot whenever she takes his hand. She's turned quiet Tumbledown into a home where Sesame Street blares and mac & cheese boxes line the pantry shelves. She's given me a new lease on life.

And now she's almost two years old. I am her biggest fan! My heart breaks a bit every time our eyes meet or she pulls my face down for a kiss. I feel my age.... And I pray to live forever because of her.
...