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Honey Where You Been

Last night I finished a fun and compelling book, “Where’d You Go, Bernadette” by Maria Semple. Happened to pick it up in my favorite old-timey Nashville bookstore, Parnassus. http://www.parnassusbooks.net

It’s about a runaway mom, Bernadette; and her pre-teen daughter, Bee who is trying to find her. But really it’s about so much more. You will laugh at the description of Seattle, the mud slide and the penguins. Oh, it’s about Antarctica too.

And if you’re lucky, you will see a little bit of yourself in the heroine.

And here’s a little Sunday morning pick-me-up I’d like to dedicate to the new dad, the Groom and to the new uncle, the Rocker too. Because they like this kind of guitar pickin…

Out of Touch

A funny thing happens when you leave your husband and your life behind and move in with your daughter and her new family for 3 weeks. It’s like I stepped into a time warp. Instead of CNN with my morning coffee, I played with the Love Bug during her “Happy Awake” time…then we’d have her “Musical Giraffe Interlude” followed by her nap and maybe I’d throw in some laundry. After the next nursing cycle, weather permitting, we might go out for a brisk dog walk in her Bob (that’s a stroller). And on and on my days would follow the sweet rhythm of life at home with a newborn. Imagine my surprise when I turned on CNN yesterday morning to pack for my return trip home, and found out the world may actually be coming to an end.

As you know, NPR is hard to find in the long state of TN but I did listen to a few programs about the new season on TV (boring) and a Black comedian on FX.http://www.npr.org/2012/09/13/161073894/totally-biased-comic-on-race-politics-and-audience – Nobody deserves to be shot, thank you W. Kamau Bell!

Nobody deserves to be shot. I hope you listened to Bell’s Dr Seuss-like rant about the difference between a sheik and a sikh. It is genius and I am now committed to watching his show “Totally Biased.” When he does his stand-up act, you can get a 2 for 1 ticket if you bring someone of another race with you. If only those 9 Arab countries that have decided to try and storm our embassies and burn our flag over a film…an internet film I still know nothing about and actually refuse to search for…if only they could defy their censors and watch a little bit of Bell comedy. Maybe the new generation might decide that killing for the sake of religion is absurd? And that nobody deserves to be shot, or stoned, or have any other biblical punishment rain down on them…because it’s 2012 people.

“A lot of times people think comedy is making fun of things, and I feel like, no, it can also just be making fun out of things,” Bell says. “That, to me, is the kind of comedy I always like to do, where you can make jokes about the thing without making fun of the thing.” Like when Ellen said at the Oscars after 9/11 that what would piss off Al Quaeda more than a gay woman in a suit entertaining a room full of Jews? Or maybe my Jewish folktale on 9/11? Almost everyone knows what it’s like to bring home a new baby. Humor hits our humanity’s funny bone.

It is a subtle difference, but a very important one! Goodbye for now little Love Bug. Nana will be back soon and we’ll discuss comedy.

The Chickens are Out

There’s a very old Yiddish tale about a poor family who lived in a very small house. The couple had their 6th baby and the stress and the noise was bothering the husband. He couldn’t study the Torah let alone hear himself think. Finally his wife told him to go see the Rabbi, he’d know what to do.

The Rabbi said, “Do you own a cow?” the man said he did, and the Rabbi told him to bring the cow into the kitchen. Grumbling all the way home, the man did as he was told and led the cow into the kitchen. The next day he went back to the Rabbi and said it was only worse with his cow in the kitchen.

The Rabbi said, “Do you own some goats?” So the Rabbi told the man to bring the goats into the kitchen. This would help the cow to feel at home. The man did as he was told and the next day he went back to the Rabbi complaining that things were getting even worse. What should he do?

The Rabbi said, “Do you own any chickens?” The Rabbi promised the man that things would get better if he brought the chickens into the kitchen. What could the poor man do, he went and followed the Rabbi’s advice. Now he had his whole barnyard of animals in his kitchen and he thought to himself life couldn’t get any worse. So the next day he went back to the Rabbi.

“What have you done to me, Rabbi?” he cried. “It’s awful. I did what you told me and the animals are all over the house! Rabbi, help me!” So one by one the Rabbi told him to take the animals out of the house. First the cow, then the goats and finally the chickens…the chickens were out of the kitchen.

The next day the man came running back to the Rabbi again. “O Rabbi,” he said with a big smile on his face, “we have such a good life now. The animals are all out of the house. The house is so quiet and we’ve got room to spare! What a joy!”

This is what it’s like when you start a new family. Relatives come from near and far, friends bring frozen enchilada casseroles and cake. And then, after awhile, the chickens are out of the kitchen. The little family can breathe a big sigh of relief and get back to finding the joy in simple things…like naps, and dog walks, and bubble baths. And kissing baby toes, and eyes and ears, and…wait a minute. Is that a giraffe in my crib?

Normally, you would find some smart-alec retort here about politics. Normally, I would try and weave some family story into my opinion, hopefully with a dash of humor or at least a dollop of wit. And don’t get me wrong, I watched a few snippets of both conventions. I loved the nun and the ex-President, and even Mrs Mitt wasn’t too saccharine sweet. But life stopped being normal on August 25th, when I found myself transformed from the Mother-of-the-Bride to the Grandmother.

Nothing really prepares you for this stage in life. Gone are the black shoes and stockings of my Nana from Scranton, PA. I’m not pickling things and storing cans on the shelves leading down to the basement. I still have the sacred memory of Nana taking me to my very first movie – Picnic, starring William Holden and Kim Novak. In 1955 I was 7 years old when this classic was released and Nana told me only big girls are allowed in a movie theatre and that I couldn’t leave my seat and run up and down the aisles. Of course I can’t remember the plot, but something “big” was happening in the grass and I was praised for staying put.

Can you remember your first anything? The first time you rode a real bike, the first kiss? Mine happened on the Kindergarten school bus. A boy named Lloyd, who’s mom was what we called then a “war bride” from London, cornered me and kissed me. i remember feeling somewhat terrified and proud all at the same time. Growing up can be challenging. The simple courage to try something new has prompted Jamie Lee Curtis to write her latest children’s book, “My Brave Year of Firsts.” Curtis said, “I started thinking about how often we ask children to try things, and it brought up to me the bravery of being a kid; for a child, jumping a rope, riding a horse, tying shoes, going to school — all are new activities. But adults don’t naturally choose to do something brave. We’re afraid we’re going to look foolish.”

It’s true. We ask our young children constantly to just try some new food, while we are content to eat the same old thing for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But last night I tried something new, and it was delicious! The Rocker rolled into the Music City with Aunt Cait and made us dinner. We feasted on yummy quinoa cakes with a cranberry curry and yogurt remoulade, all made from scratch! The kale salad on the side was the best I’ve ever tasted. Later we watched the documentary “Babies” and that was illuminating and fun!

The Bride gave her brother his first lesson in diapering. As I watched, I felt true bliss. My baby boy had cooked for his sister and his new niece. Better it couldn’t be.

…was yesterday.” My psychologist brother, Dr Jim, told me that this is a Navy SEAL saying, which explains the title of that book in the news, “No Easy Day.” You may or may not agree with the Pentagon about possibly seeking criminal charges against its author, but spokesman George Little said “Sensitive and classified information is contained in the book.” http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/09/04/no-easy-day-pentagon_n_1855783.html

Yesterday we received very sensitive information about breastfeeding. My daughter and I talk about how taboo the subject still is, how strange it is that women show much less skin nursing under a well-placed receiving blanket or one of those fancy “hooter hiders” than they do at the beach. Baby Boomers have been making menopause proper dinner table conversation, maybe these Millennials will de-mystify breastfeeding and make public displays of nursing mamas acceptable. We decided that the Lactation Consultant specialist at their hospital is a veritable saint; and that the Love Bug is an epicurean delight.

Today is the Bride and Groom’s Wedding Anniversary, and tonight I have the honor of babysitting for the first time. They will walk to their favorite neighborhood restaurant for a romantic dinner. Bob has told them to make a date every week if possible, to get out and talk about life and all things not-so-baby-related. We did try and do that once the Bride was about 6 months old, though at the moment leaving her for more than 2 hours seems unimaginable.

Yesterday love was such an easy game,

Today it’s time to celebrate,

Tomorrow the Rocker arrives with Ms C to meet the baby. Hello bliss

The Summer of Love

While you were watching the GOP Convention, I was snuggling my newborn Grand Daughter. Let’s pretend that she’s sitting in a chair…I know I know, she can’t sit up yet. But we are pretending.

“What’s that you say? You thought this whole outside the womb thing was going to be a piece of cake. I know. I know. Living is hard work. You’ve got to cry to get what you want.”

“No, no I wouldn’t want that. An outstanding public school system is hard to find in this holler. Relax, private schools have everything you’ll ever need.”

“Oh sure, Montessori is great to start. I forgot, you’ve got five years to worry about school. Let’s just try sleeping through the night first. But take your time, no rush, try not to worry so much.”

“Who were they? They are your other set of Grandparents. You are a very lucky girl, you have two sets of them and a matched pair of Great Grandparents. Now here’s the trick with us, we are all pretty crazy about you. Any little thing you want…well once you can talk. Anything you want, you just have to ask.”

“No, no you can’t have five houses. What would you do with so many homes? You’d what? No,,,that’s just out of the question, it’s not practical. Think about all the cleaning staff you’d need.”

“That’s right. For now, all you need is love. And believe me, this home is filled to overflowing.”

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Bob and I lost the Bride and the Groom in the hospital parking garage. Well we didn’t really lose them, since we have smart cells and can always find them again, wherever they are. Except for maybe a Caribbean island, our collective happy visualization spot! We were headed for Labor and Delivery; we picked up the happy couple on another subterranean floor and as we’re going up in the elevator, I repeat “BJ,” maybe a touch too loud. That is where we will presumably find my car again, once we are grandparents. Basment level, row “J.” Except for a small giggle from the back of the elevator, the Bride turns to me and says, “Don’t you have that App?” “What App,” I say.

It seems there is an App that will locate your car for you when you are stuck in an airport or mall parking lot, or even a covered, cavernous hospital garage. Now not only will I never get lost, I’ll never lose my car again! “Interesting,” I said, “Have they created an App that will tell me – “‘Why am I here?'” The whole elevator had a smile about that one. But really, besides the existensial question in general, why do we need grandparents? Let me count the ways.

To Cook! Your children will be busy, very busy with a newborn. Cooking anything will be appreciated. I lucked out cause the Groom does dishes.

To Shop! Of course you need to shop for the groceries to cook, which should include all your daughter’s favorite things…avocados, peaches, grapefruit juice. Don’t forget the new Dad, he needs beer and beef. You won’t go wrong. And be prepared to go on special hunting expeditions for things like Lansinoh Soothies Gel Pads – amazing things! Spell it out on your Notes App, L-A-N-S-I-N-O-H. ps Target carries them.

To Burp, Rock and Change the Occasional Diaper! Be prepared. Dads are way more involved than they were in our day. So the actual baby nurse duties will be minimal with a nursing Mom and today’s Dad.

To Give Nursing Advice! Who needs a doula when you have a Grandmother? Well, maybe we did. It’s been over 30 years since I nursed the Bride and for some strange reason this hospital doesn’t employ Lactation Counsultants on weekends. I had a 1-800 La Leche number, and now I have a post-menopausal brain that tends to forget the tough times of sleep deprivation and an inverted nipple. Lucky for me, the Bride has a very cooperative baby girl!

To Know When NOT to Give Advice! This can be tricky. I learned a long time ago never to give anyone advice unless they asked for it. But when it’s your daughter, and your brand new grand daughter you may start to feel just like one of those crazy, old women who would constantly tell you what to do when you were a new mom. “What do you mean the nurse recommends not putting lotion on her bottom?” “You’re going to swaddle her that tight?” Anyway, try very hard to keep most of your opinions to yourself – unless asked. My daughter said she only sees babies in the ER who are either dehydrated or febrile and septic, so I trust her to know what to do in most every circumstance. Still, that leaves a wide range of normal neonate behavior, right? “Wait, you want the dog to lick her face?”

To Take Pictures. My phone has like 4 or 5 picture Apps! Here’s the thing, you get to take pictures as much as you want! And you get to catch those unlikely times with the whole new family. For instance, I think this looks like a soap opera. First time nursing in the recovery room: nurse at the computer, BFF and colleague Kristyn comes in, off camera are many of their friends who are residents…all crying. And bam, the Groom turns. What is he thinking?

Hello Beautiful

The funny thing about scheduling a C-section, you know when the baby is coming, and everything seems organized and in control. You check into the hospital 2 hours before the OR time, then you find out there have been a few emergency unscheduled C-sections that morning, so you wait…and you wait…and you wait. And waiting is the hardest part.

Then all of sudden, they come in the room and roll out with your daughter. The Groom gets to wait until the spinal takes effect and the surgeon is ready, then he heads for the OR. And now you start to crumble inside because now there is no one to stay strong for, no one to visit with and chat up about this or that. Well, there is Bob still, her Father and the Saviour of Lost Things. He knows how you feel instinctively. Together you hold each other up…

Until they roll her back in the room, followed by the Groom and a new little person. A beautiful baby girl who somehow manages to steal your heart all over again. Just the way the Bride first did so long ago. This morning we played the Circle of Life on Bob’s iPad, because that’s how it feels. Seven whole pounds of wonder and enchanting eyes.

Countdown

We are counting down the days and hours until our new grand daughter’s birthday. Everything is ready. The other grandma-to-be told the Bride she hadn’t hung the curtains in the nursery before the Groom was born. And so I told her about running into town with the Flapper to buy crib bumpers. Babies come when they want to come. But we know this little girl’s birthday, because she is determined to stay in the breech position, her birthday is a date on the OR’s calendar. So the last few days my daughter can spend painting animals to hang on the nursery wall, visiting a friend’s new baby boy, and we can sit together on the front porch, with our morning coffee. Watching the children walk to school. It is the sweetest of times.


Today we find out that Augusta National Golf Club in the great state of Georgia has admitted 2 women, Condoleeza Rice and Darla Moore. http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/golf/19323577 This news fell like a thud at my feet. As someone who could not receive a credit card unless it was in my husband’s name, or could not obtain birth control pills until I was married, my reaction to this big golfing news was anti-climactic. What do you know, this private club actually thinks a woman’s money is just as green as a man’s…oh, and maybe they won’t be such a distraction on the links? Hey, If the Tiger can play there, why not Condi? I shrugged.

And, while smiling this sardonic smile, we find out that 2 other iconic women have made headlines today. The great Phyllis Diller died at the grand old age of 95. I remember watching her on TV, and thinking so, a woman can make a living in comedy. I didn’t necessarily like her rampages about “Fang” her husband, and I certainly didn’t like the smoking and the bouffant of teased hair. But I was young, I didn’t know this was part of her schicht! She was the female doppelgänger of “Take my wife, please.” And she was doing this when women were not allowed in many university and private clubs around the country, unless they were on the arm of some male member. The second female comedian making news is Rosie O’Donnell. She revealed that she had a heart attack, and how women need to pay attention to our particular signs and symptoms. I’ve always loved Rosie, but instead of calling 911, she googled her symptoms and took an aspirin – bad Rosie – not funny. http://marquee.blogs.cnn.com/2012/08/20/rosie-odonnell-happy-to-be-alive-after-heart-attack/?iref=allsearch

And for the last distinctly sad bit of doubledealing, we have a Republican Senate candidate from Missouri, Todd Akin, who thinks he misspoke about RAPE, and the Republican VP pick, Paul Ryan, who desperately wants to distance himself from him. http://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/with-todd-akins-rape-comments-abortion-is-back-in-the-campaign-spotlight/2012/08/20/c497bae4-eac7-11e1-a80b-9f898562d010_story.html

But can we separate the two? Not at all. Let’s put on our thinking caps – rejecting science and reason in many forms seems to be an extreme right agenda. And today, the GOP platform has called for a “Human Life Amendment” with absolutely no exception for rape, much in the same way Paul Ryan backed all those personhood bills that kept popping up all over the country. http://www.rawstory.com/rs/2012/08/21/no-rape-exception-in-republican-platforms-constitutional-abortion-ban/

Are we witches? This must be the year of magical thinking, when a woman’s body can just kill off those rapist sperm and prevent pregnancy – oh yeah, party of the big spenders and free markets – tell us how that works! I’m supposed to feel better that Mitt believes in the rape exception? Like I’m supposed to be happy we can play golf at Augusta?

Smart, thinking women are not buying into this circus comedy of GOP clowns. Tell me the GOP is not waging a war on women. Put on your best Dan Draper smile, and make me believe you’ll still call me in the morning. http://nymag.com/news/frank-rich/gop-women-problem-2012-4/