Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Nice to meetcha

NvOK then.  Where to start Mon amis*?

When last we spoke I'd returned from New Mexico.  I'd been to Lake Tahoe...alone.  Then the wait began for the sixth grandchild.  Happily (or not) that wait was abruptly ended by the surprise arrival of Lauren Anne a week (or two depending on how YOU read ultrasounds or whatever) early.  In the history of children na of my children coming in to the world, an early delivery thing has never happened.  Nay, even my own children were most tardy making their collective appearances in to the world.  Some might say they were afraid to meet they mama, but those haters would be wrong.  duh.  I digress.

So I was, as usual, minding my own business happily celebrating with the Horse Show Mom on the occasion of her birth with a lazy, unproductive afternoon drinking Margaritas and eating Nachos and such like that.  I'd imagined that I would be waaaay too waaaaasted to drive home that night, but what with the excessive carbo-loading and what not it became evident that I was in ship shape shape to drive home so I did. Jolly good thing too.  I had been  ordered to take Mila to the movies alone, no brothers, the next day.  A decree set forth by herself and it is just better to do what you're told.  Did you know that women have more eggs as a child than as an adult and I'm sure they have something to do with this narrative, but I don't know what that would be.  So anyway, I went home to my beloved and we watched the tee vee and then slept the night away.

The aha moment.  Unbeknownst to us, the middle daughter decided to go in to labor.  Not that anything is that easy.  Oh no, she'd been moaning to Tim about not feeling well, and really moaning that the baby's room wasn't finished, and generally aggravating the husband unit to the point that when her water broke he just told her to knock it off, the baby wasn't due for another week or two and that this BS about labor and nag nag nag was not so much fun. So there.  I believe it took some convincing to make him realize this was no BS. She does remind me of me.  Sooo after a shower and the artful application of cosmetics the happy little couple dashed off to the hospital and were admitted.  I won't bore you with the details, and I say you're welcome, but at some point early in the morning, five-ish if you must know, they sent a mass message text informing the family that the birth was imminent and absolutely no other information.  Naturally, I knew nothing of this because I can sleep through the text notification ding on my phone, so around 7:00 the old daughter most glorious child  in the world rang me up and demanded to know how Lindsey was.  So I told her that calling anyone around 7:00 in the morning was just completely uncivilized and where in her upbringing was it EVER ok to talk to me before coffee?  Not in the slightest bit chastened the old daughter most glorious child  in the world went on to tell me that her sister was in labor and what did I know?  I replied that as usual I knew nothing and that I'd still not had any coffee.  And the old daughter most glorious child  in the world said, "read your text messages cranky pants" and hung up the phone before I could further the abuse that was roiling around in my foggy head.  So I did.  Because I'm in to saving things for posterity, or a stint on hoarders, I saved the text.  To whit:  "I am in labor.  I will text with more info later.  Love you".

Now I have the ability to  usually wheedle, nag or badger my way in to get the information I want.  Case in point:  When the Shah of Iran was overthrown by the Ayatollah in  1978 (79?) my parents were in Tehran and under house arrest and there was fighting and guns and bombs and what not and the news was there and in the middle of this uproar I was able to make contact with the parental units by the sheer force of will. However, in the case of speaking to my daughter or by extension her husband who were a mere 10 miles away, no amount of wheedling got me through the firewalls of the hospital or cell phone communication with them.  To say that I was annoyed is putting it mildly.

Since no one was in the least bit afraid of me at the hospital, I decided to leave and I took Mila to the movies.  As we sat down in the theater we received this text: "the "ep" is in all is ok 1-2 hour!"  Groan.  So Mila and I ate popcorn, drank sodas and watched the movie.  I think it was Monster U, but who knows.  Probably for the best, because when we went back to the hospital afterwards still no info was being imparted to  the growing crowd of impatient family members.   At long last, Tim came out and announced the arrival of Lauren.  He was all sweaty and gross so no one hugged him.  Haha, just kidding.  Eventually we were allowed back to meet the baby and all was forgiven, until now, and the baby was beautiful and the little mother was beautiful and the father was beautiful and so on.  I took the requisite pictures and tried to be supportive and all.  I did get to be the first to hold the bundle of joy, which was the most important thing, the rest of you have to wait.   And Lindsey said "Mama" and we got all emotional and like that.  Poignant.

So there you have it.  The baby smiles now and is much more sociable.  I kind of like her.  She also wears clothes and her room is done.


*loosely translated to "my friends", further evidence of an expensive, and wasted education.