Perfection wears a blue hat.

As I write, I'm laying flat on my back preparing to get up to go fix supper. Upstairs I hear the sounds of that beautiful baby you see there to your left, as he tells his Mom, my daughter, that he will be taking HIS supper RIGHT THE HELL NOW.

Brady - my grandson. My first. 

Before Kitten got pregnant I must have said roughly 88,000 times that I strongly encouraged her NOT to make me a Grandma. Grandma's wear sensible shoes and have their silver hair washed and set at the beauty parlor every week. I felt that at forty-six, I was not prepared to commit to wearing kitty-cat sweatshirts and eating supper every day at 4 o'clock.

But at twenty-six, my daughter knew best and she and her husband decided to start a family. On June 9th, as I was squealing into the hospital parking lot on two wheels, she was giving birth to Brady via C-Section.

Everything changed for me in the time it took me to lock the doors and walk up to the third floor labor and delivery, and no one.. I mean NO ONE... is more surprised than me.

I am staying with the new family for a couple weeks to take care of the mundane things in life so that they can focus on getting set into their new life together. I wash, I cook, I clean - and sometimes, if I'm lucky, I get to hold Brady and breathe in the newness of him.

If Kitten is out of ear shot, I ask him questions. "Where have you been?" and "What was it like before you arrived here?" He doesn't answer, but I like to imagine he hears me. Sometimes I tell him things instead. Things I think are important for a perfect child named Brady to know. "Be nice to people. Being nice is underrated." and "Don't have a hot temper. It's a sign of laziness." I'm hoping my words find a way to stick and he'll be a nice man who never blows up and no one will know how or why, but I will.

Brady is a game changer. Things that mattered to me prior to June 9th really don't mean as much any more. I find I simply want to live up to who I think Brady deserves to have as a MeeMaw. I want him to be proud that he and I are a part of each other. I want to earn his love... but don't kid yourself. I am not above buying it using cookies and ice cream currency.

Possums Will Eat Anything.

 I'm in such a weird place in my life right now. I'd love to say I'm at a crossroads, but that implies I have some very clear direction to either side of me and that's not the case. I'm more inclined to want to say I'm at a roundabout.


I can choose to make an exit at some point in the circle and see how that works for me or I can keep going round and round and round.

At the moment, let's just say I feel sort of dizzy.


As I write, I'm at my daughter's house sitting in the baby's room. I should specify there is no actual baby in this room yet. He is currently living at 100 SW. Uterus with an estimated arrival date of July 3. He's a pistol, this one. Kitten's tiny 5'2" body has had a heck of a time trying to accommodate this fella. Today we found out she has hydronephrosis, which is no damn fun. She's in pain and she pees roughly every 1.3 seconds.


I made her banana pudding - cause that's what Southern mommas do when they don't know what else to do.

I took her to IHOP and bought her a man-sized breakfast at 3 in the afternoon. When the waitress asked "bacon or sausage" Kitten said "BOTH!" I just drank my coffee, ate my French Toast and tried to keep my fingers away from the consumption zone.



The only other time I've ever heard noises like I heard coming from my baby girl was when I was married to my second husband living large in rural Hell and I found a possum eating something one of the farm cat's had thrown up.

You're welcome.

Right now, at this very moment, I can hear Kitten & Dog (my son) laughing hysterically from the other room. They each have such distinct laughs, but they share an insane sense of humor, which I like to believe they got at least in part, from me. I adore them so much. They know I love them, of course. I'm just not sure they understand I'd totally make them banana pudding for breakfast from now until forever if it made them happy. That's probably a good thing.

So round and round I continue go. But right now, in this blue room, listening to the most beautiful sound on Earth, it's OK. I'm OK.

I may even try it with my eyes closed. 



























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