When walking by our big window, I noticed the cat notice some back-yard birds. She rushed to the window sill and crouches for the attack. Pretty sure, she forgot about that thing called glass. I laughed at her and then looked to see what visitors we had.
And there he/she sat. All prim and proper in the holly bush. For this post and lack of bird anatomy, I will call her she. As SHE was very dainty, and soft. She seemed to enjoy the soft rain. I wanted to go get my camera, but I knew as soon as I did she would fly off.
But she didn’t.
It’s been raining here. And when, I walk from the office to the kitchen. There she is. Enjoying the rain. I didn’t see her get throaty or sing-song. She seemed fairly quiet for a mockingbird. She didn’t seem to mind when the dogs were let out or I peeked at her from the window.
I made a Bob-White whistle and she dove into the bushes. Only to emerge after checking to see if the coast was clear. I guess she met one too many of those fellas.
So this was our rainy day excitement. A little Northern Mockingbird visit.
I remember earlier this year when all the newness of being a future Grandmother was settling into my bones. The shock had (mostly) worn off and I could accept and understand this was really happening and going to happen. My eighteen-year old daughter was indeed pregnant and a baby would indeed be here in the Fall. We had sonogram images, thundering fast heartbeats, and it got real very, very real. And in that moment when the reality truly hit home, I realized…..we are going to have BABY at Christmastime. We will have presents for him/her under the tree. A stocking. A little red Christmas outfit. And a whole new little person will be part of our world.
That seemed so unreal to me. A Baby at Christmas. A first Christmas. And you only get one of those…
So of course, she is here and she is the most expressive, adorable child, ever. I have taken photos. Lots and lots of photos.
Oh, to be a cute baby at Christmas. A baby still trying to balance on her long trunk and stubby legs. A baby just on the brink of all the delightful and fun things ahead, and most especially, her second Christmas.
And now, she is not just real in my head, but in my arms as well.
So maybe, I went a little photo crazy…
It’s okay to go a little photo crazy…
It’s her first Christmas. And you know what? It’s my first Christmas too. My first being Grammy to this sweet little girl.
And the most difficult thing? Putting her down to take a photo. That is soooo hard. So, believe me when I say, this photo shoot was a huge accomplishment for both of us.
Merry Christmas Baby!
And Merry Christmas to all of you that celebrate. I wish you and yours the merriest of Christmas blessings. From our family to yours.
Hee hee hee – huh-how how how – hee dee hee – duh-how how how!
Transalation: How to take over Facebook and get away with it!
Oh yes, he did….all over Facebook!
It is the famous Giraffe Riddle. Have you seen this? Posted this? Answered this?
This is what happens.
If you read this riddle on a “friend’s” Facebook status, and guess the answer by private message, getting it right, all is good. Your profile photo remains untouched and aren’t you a smart little non-giraffe person. BUT if you get it wrong. You are a Giraffe and have to change your pic and post this status.
I answered a riddle and got it incorrect. Try the great giraffe challenge! The deal is I give you a riddle. You get it right you get to keep your profile pic. You get it wrong and you change your profile pic to a Giraffe for the next 3 days.
MESSAGE ME ONLY SO YOU DONT GIVE OUT THE ANSWER.
Here is the riddle:
3:00 am, the doorbell rings and you wake up. Unexpected visitors, It’s your parents and they are there for breakfast. You have strawberry jam, honey, wine, bread and cheese. What is the first thing you open? Remember… message me only. If you get it right I’ll post your name here. If you get it wrong change your profile picture….”
And the answer? Let’s say it is………debatable.
Isn’t everything? (looking at you congress)
I am *not* giving the answer here, but I will direct you to a recent article called, The Great Giraffe Riddle Debate. Meaning the majority of incorrect, giraffe glorified profile users are right. But does that mean the ones that didn’t change their profile photos to a Giraffe should change theirs? Or are they both right? And how can that be?
The riddle’s answers are giving birth to riddles. It is Giraffe anarchy!
Most of the Facebook users are sick and tired of Giraffes. If they never laid their eyes on another giraffe….they would be so happy.
But me, I don’t mind. Maybe, I got the riddle wrong (or right?). Hey, I played by the rules. I changed my profile photo.
No one made me. I just happened to have photos of a baby giraffe I adore. I call him Baby G.
I don’t know his real name, but I met him at the Zoo. I notice him lean his tall, long, bobbly head to the ground for some grass. Totally doable if you are a baby giraffe, and you spread your legs just a bit. So out they go, and down he nibbles. But when he tries to get up? Oh, whoops, not so easy for Baby G.
He snaps his legs back together in a hop, slap kind of way. Making quite a show of it to the greatly amused crowd. I laughed. On the inside. On the outside. Holding my camera just so. I did not want to miss this. My favorite part is when he looks around to see if the bigger giraffes have noticed his folly.
Nope! Okay, then…off he goes to figure out a new riddle for Facebook.
And keep us all in the land of Crazy-raffe.
Have you changed your profile pic today?
******Inspiration for this post brought to you by Facebook and my nine-year old’s most! favorite! best! song! of all-time! -“What does the Fox say?”*******
Pretty sure he says the same thing as the giraffe.
Hee hee hee – huh-how how how – hee dee hee – duh-how how how!
Friday, August 23, 2013 – I turn 42 years old. I have the day off work. It is a FRIDAY! And on top of all that, I am invited to my daughter’s ultrasound with her and her boyfriend. In my life of beautiful things to count, it is one of the best birthday presents I could ask for. And I get to see her. There on the screen, all squishy cheeks with her head down and ready for GO time.
But the little booger is just not ready. Sydney has zero signs of labor. And that is OK by me. I want her here safe, and when it is time. It doesn’t have to be on MY birthday (although that would be so cool and totally trump my last gift).
But no. It’s not time. Or is it?
The ultrasound tech seems to think so. The fluid in Sydney’s amniotic sac has dropped significantly. So much so, she thinks the Doctor might go ahead and induce her labor before the baby runs out of juice….TODAY. On my Birthday! SHUT UP!
And that is exactly what they do. Admit her to the hospital, put her in a delivery bed, and give her the medicine to start the contractions.
I’m in disbelief. There is NO way this is happening…ON MY BIRTHDAY.
Let me tell ya, I am giddy! Ridiculously! So! THIS is the best birthday present EVER!
The night wears on and the clock hand is nearing midnight. I tell my sweet grand girl it is okay if she is born the next day. No matter what, she is still the best birthday ever. And in my heart, I know this little one wants her own special day and that brings me so much joy.
I post a poll on Facebook to predict the time of birth. Hey, if it’s gonna be a long all-niter then at least I can do something to pass the time. So many of my sweet friends choose before midnight. HA. My prediction? 5:30am
Midnight passes and my birthday ends, but the labor does not and the night goes on. Sydney is given less than a 1/2 teaspoon of pitocin. The previous medicine given at Noon the day before is still working and she doesn’t need the pitocin. This is good. This is more natural (even though it is not). If anyone has been induced before (raising my hand) with pitocin. That stuff is a beast. ::shudder::
As we go into the wee hours of the early morning August 24th. The labor is steady, but not too strong. Sydney tries to stay comfortable. My mind drifts, and my eyes start to close.
Quiet hours go by until, finally, the nurse begins moving the bed and moving extra people out of the room. Baby is ready. Sydney is ready. And it is time to begin the push phase. Brandon and Sydney allow me to stay as the one additional person that can be in the room (shhhhhtup….best day after my birthday present ever). Not only do I get to see my grand child be born into this world, I also have my camera (of course). Having given birth, I know the moment is fast and fuzzy. Emotions are high, moms are tired. I want them to have photographs to cherish. To re-live that moment again and again. Birth Photography is becoming more popular (although it’s expensive). I studied the ins and outs online. What lenses to use….What settings…..Where to stand. I just prayed I would get it right.
5:30AM – It’s GO time for baby. Let the pushing begin.
I am a little amazed my time prediction is thissss close.
Sydney had an epidural earlier for the pain. She is given oxygen for the health of both of them. It is so hard to push when you are numb, but she does. It takes a lot of strength and resilience. She gives all she has every contraction. Brandon is at her side coaching her all the way through. It is exhausting. Exhausting to watch. Exhausting to wait. My stomach is in knots because it is sooo hard watching your child struggle and strain. A friend did warn me that I would be torn up by this and I am.
The baby’s head is RIGHT there. The only thing holding her back is her Daddy’s ears (HA! Kidding! But really funny when the doctor actually said that).
At 608am, Averey Elizabeth enters our lives with the most beautiful cry. She sounds just like her Mama and looks just like her Daddy. My heart springs from my chest. So amazing. So beautiful.
Averey’s first moment of life.
Getting Dad to cut the cord of his new baby girl.
Brandon cuts the cord of his baby girl.
She is beautiful.
And a little upset with all of us…haha.
Daddy and his baby girl.
Averey on the scale. She is only 5lbs 4oz and 18inches long. So tiny!
Dad holds his baby for the first time.
Mom holds baby skin to skin. A precious new family.
I am really glad the camera is in my hand and in front of my face. I am pretty sure it is keeping me grounded. I think I would be a blubbering puddle if I didn’t have a “job” to do.
I follow baby while Brandon pushes her crib to her first bath and we join what I call the Grandpa Brigade – Great Grandpawpaw, Grandpaw, and Poppy (Brandon’s Grandpa, Dad, and my husband Jason). It is completely adorable to watch all these big boys – who waited all day and night at the hospital – melt into a puddle over their tiny new baby girl. Did you see that? She already has them wrapped around her bitty finger. Just. Like. That.
I melt too. My eyes are googly and misty and OHMYGOSH we have a new baby in the family. Then, I realize I should go check on my baby! My little girl who just gave birth. Ooops my bad!.
I go to Sydney and stay with her while they get her clean and move her to the mom and baby room. The new room is exactly like the delivery room except the bed does not have a piece that comes off at the bottom and it is on the other side of the hall. Although it is not different, it is different. There is something in the air on that side. See, this is the place where babies cry and moms listen. They are held, fed, and loved. But most of all, they get to learn about their new parents, grandparents, family, and friends.
One second we are unpacking in the new room, the next second, they bring in a freshly clean bundle of joy. I swear… I forget to breathe.
She is so incredibly beautiful. I love every inch of her. And what they say is true. It is an incredible kind of love when you hold your grandchild for the first time. One that can not be described in words or pictures.
Me (Grammy), my daughter Sydney, and Miss Averey Elizabeth.
Poppy Jason holds Averey. Gosh doesn’t she look tiny?
Poppy and ANOTHER girl to spoil.
Mom, Dad, and Baby make three.
Auntie Bridget holds Averey. She is a little pro at holding her. I heard she has been practicing for months.
Poppy Jason, Auntie Bridget, and Auntie Molly with Averey. This is the only photo we have of Molly holding her.
And THIS. This little package, wrapped all in pink and tied with a hat bow, is why I had the most crazy, beautiful birthday EVER.
How could I not?
“A Grandmother’s Prayer”
Oh Lord, I do not ask for much,
Eternal beauty, or youth, or such.
Just give me a little hand to hold,
And I’ll forget that I’m growing old.
I do not ask for cloudless skies,
A life that’s free from tears and sighs.
Just give me a little face to kiss,
And anxious moments will turn to bliss.
For what is there, really, that means so much
As little hands that reach and touch,
As little eyes that search and see
Only the best in fragile me?
So let me grow more loving and wise
By looking at life through their wide eyes.
For through these little ones, you have given
This grateful grandmother a glimpse of Heaven.
Author: Barbara Burrows