So my daughter had her baby. All went well.
I tell you what though I was doing some mental pacing the whole day waiting to hear that he’d arrived.
So now she has the “knowing”.
Initiated into the clan of motherhood!
Childbirth is the BEST form of contraception, I can tell you.
“Mum, I don’t want to do that again, not for a very looooong time!”
For a little while at least…
I don’t know what happens, but somehow you get amnesia.
I had amnesia FOUR times.
And then I grew wise…
Hey, if THAT happens…..the end result is horrendous PAIN and SUFFERING.
I have teenagers so I’m still in the “SUFFERING” stage.
I suffer from…post traumatic birth disorder…
“OMG, I can’t stand it!!!……. Someone give me DRUGS!!!!”
My daughter has yet to truly comprehend why I nod in sympathetic understanding when I read this quote…
“I now know why some animals eat their young.”
Only a mother of teenagers could be responsible for writing that.
“Here here!” say I, eyes wild, hair mussed, face drawn, etched with lines of repeated frustration.
I have recently become ….what would you call it?
A….sibling intervention councilor.
I am having to frequently intervene and council my seventeen year old daughter and fourteen year old son, because they are on the brink of trying to make each other extinct.
You can see it in their feral eyes.
They just so much as walk PAST one another and they’re hissing and spitting.
I don’t know what happened?
They used to be SO close. The closest siblings among them all.
The hours they used to spend playing cowboys and indians (those little plastic toys?) in the dirt?
The cubby houses made out of sticks they used to build?
Endless hours in the car playing with pipe cleaners making animals and things out of them….?
It was so sweet.
Life was all bubbles and floating hearts for a while there…
Now we have to have “sessions” where I call them into my bedroom and have them each stand at the end of my bed -( out of striking distance from each other), while I sit there and speak to them one at a time, and translate their anger and frustration into more pleasant civilized human language, free of growls, grunts, snorts and screeches in the hopes that some vestige of enlightenment and respect can evolve.
I tell them each, alone, “Just stay away from your brother/sister.“
I don’t know what else to do!
They may not like to admit it but their hormones are raging….Man child is quickly morphing into more of a man than a child.
In fact the other day my daughter said…”You know…if you ever want to dress (the brother) into a girl now is the time to do it because you won’t be able to for very much longer!”
I told her it wasn’t high on my list of “to do” things, but I’d keep it in mind….
(I understand why the boy sighs and rolls his eyes so much.)
I don’t like this new job.
I have my own issues and worries… Like neck wrinkles and my OWN raging hormones!
There are that many hormones now circulating round our family that it’s amazing we don’t all spontaneously combust!
No wonder there is a ghost in our house…”Hey, is this where the wild party is? Hey HEY….I’m here to join the crazy ride!”
Anyway…so I’m a bit tired of everyone congratulating me…
“Awww….congratulations at becoming a….GRANDMA!”
I hate that word.
It’s so “old” sounding.
I’m not quite ready to be going out and buying granny knickers and a pull along tartan shopping trolley just yet!
I used to know someone who called their grandmother “Nin”
I think that’s cute.
Who knows, it could have been short for ninny or nincompoop…I don’t know but it was different and I like different.
As for my husband we’ve all decided that Grumps….or Grumpy, is the most appropriate word.
He seems dutifully annoyed with that title.
My daughter will be busy being head over heels in bubbles of love for quite some time now, with her new little man.
She’ll want to just “eat him all up!” because of all his gooey cuteness….scrumptious, heavenly gorgeousness!
It will be a long time before the idea of cannibalism TRULY crosses her mind.
The teenagers are both quiet.
I hope they are somewhere in the house… still breathing.