We’ve been waiting most of the year for this! Oh no, not the day spent enjoying delicious food in the company of those we love most in the world. Not to say this isn’t nice.

I’m talking about the birth of my very first grandchild. Drum roll, please …

Little Miss. Olivia Marie arrived on 11-23-22 at 4:00 a.m., weighing 7lbs 12 oz and 20 inches long. Immediately making this world a better place. Yesterday, If you thought, wow, the sun seems just a little brighter, you know why.

Mommy, Daddy, and Olivia are all happy, healthy, and anxiously waiting to go home to big brother Calvin. He has paws.

I did learn quite a bit more about my son over the past few days. The most evident is he did not, I repeat, did not pay attention in any form of a health education class. Ever.

Whew! His ADHD was front and center on Monday night when I inquired if mommy was dilated, and he responded, “what does that mean?” I can hear your gasps.

I made the mistake of asking again on Tuesday afternoon when he informed me she had contractions and received an epidural.

Me: Any word on how dilated she is?

Daddy: I told you, I don’t know.

Me: I know, but that was yesterday, and now she’s having contractions.

Daddy: I’m not asking. I was already yelled at for yawning.

That seems about right.

Me: Have you heard the words 2, 3, or 4 centimeters come out of the mouth of any medical professionals in the room?

Daddy: Oh yeah, she was 2 centimeters a few hours ago.

Still giving me gray hairs.

The rest of the day was spent jumping every time my phone notified me of a message. I am officially a trained rat.

Hours passed without a word. So, this soon-to-be grandmother, and not a pushy mother, assumed the silence meant things were progressing nicely and I would hear any minute. What’s that saying about assuming? Yeah.

I finally received a text around 9:00 p.m. that went like this:

Daddy: Every movie ever made with a birth scene is a LIE.

Me: For the record, so are the death scenes and crime solving.

Daddy: My back is killing me from this chair. The food is awful, and I can’t sleep.

Someone, hold my glass; it’s about to go down.

Me: Have you said any of this out loud in the room?

Daddy: I’m not on a death wish.

Me: How is mommy?

Daddy: She’s doing good, uncomfortable, but good.

Me: Great! Be patient; I know it’s difficult for you. Once Olivia arrives, you’ll forget about all of this.

Daddy: I will never forget this concrete slab they call a bed. I love you!

Me: I love you too!

I don’t have a concrete slab for a bed and still didn’t sleep wondering how things were progressing. I woke up at 4:30, jumping out of my skin to send a text.

Me: Is everything ok?

Daddy: Yes, her water broke at 1:30, and Olivia arrived at 4:00 a.m.

My phone rang with a Facetime call, and by 4:34, I was looking at my wide-eyed granddaughter after just 34 minutes of entering this world. She was nestled in her mother’s arms while my son gushed with joy. Clueless at how lucky he is lucky to be alive.

I have a lot to be grateful for each and every day. Including this Thanksgiving that looks much different than the ones pre Covid when my house was busting at the seams, with loved ones, food, and laughter.

This year it’s the hubby and me going for a morning walk, maybe on the beach, enjoying an early dinner at our table for two, and heading out to meet our first grandchild for the first time. The bar has risen!

Enjoy the Ride like it’s Thanksgiving every day.

Gobble Gobble.