Hello Lola.

No matter how dark a night can be, the smallest light can break it.
Sometimes there is the most glorious flash of light that lets you see right into the future.
Lola-Mae was such a light today. She was born, on her due date at 5pm. How very timely of her.   
Truth be told she has been a bit of a stinker, she has had her mummy believing everyday for the last 3 weeks that THIS is the day. Oh poor Mel, contractions and back aches and every sign under the stars that THIS IS THE DAY. It is a SIGN!
We have been back and forth to the hospital, we have waited for midwives, she has had sweeps and more sweeps and has, I suspect, the cleanest and most well kept and swept cervix in all the land. A cervix made of steel that was not letting that baby out early, nope, no matter what you try ( reflexology, hot spicy food, walking for hours and miles) That baby was not for shifting.
Until today.
Mel went for her midwife's appointment at 12.30 and she had another sweep, at 1pm she called me and she said " My waters just broke in the shop..I can't walk, can you come and get me?" So I did, although she waddled  damply back to her midwife who said that indeed her waters HAD broken ( although there was no doubt there was a veritable flood) she said that she didn't need to go to the hospital yet, not until the pain was bad and she was contracting every 5 minutes or so.
We drove to Mac Ds and her contractions had already started, she laughed as one finished just as we got there and said that she was happy that had ended in time for her to have a cheeseburger. By the time the cheeseburger arrived her contractions were every 3 minutes and she was really feeling them, no messing about or wondering if these were real, we had time to run into a supermarket, grab some drinks and some new clothes and drive to the hospital.
We arrived about 3.00 and it was obvious that at last this baby was coming, for real and soon. We looked at the clock at 3. 30 and said " We'll expect her at 5 then"....and laughed because that was quick, wasn't it?
At 4pm she was 8 cms and she asked for drugs, anything, something just give her anything because this was so awful, at 4.20 she said that there was no point in having drugs because she wasted to PUSH AND SHE COULDN'T NOT PUSH! She was fabulous and Jordan was fabulous and I wasn't needed at all.
I am so proud of these people. I am so honoured that I could watch that little girl be born. I love to see how my son loves his wife, I love how gentle he is and how kind he is, how he truly just wants whatever makes her happy. I loved seeing how he knew by just a hand signal what she was telling him. ( although to be honest, some of them were pretty easy to understand!) I loved watching how she held onto him as she pushed and as she tried not to push.
Watching that huge man cry when his daughter came into the world is something that is priceless to me and I am so grateful that they let me see that. I did feel, today, as if I was somehow intruding, I tried not to and I stayed out of the way taking a few pictures that I knew Mel would treasure later, they made her cross at the time as she yelled "What are you doing? What are you taking pictures OF?" and I would say " nothing awful, you'll be glad later" and I think she will be.
So now I have a grandson and a granddaughter and I know just why they are called 'Grand' Oh they are so grand. There is nothing MORE grand let me tell you. I had no idea and then Josh was born and I was so gloriously surprised and I am still endlessly thrilled with just how grand it is to be a Gramma. He adores me you see, that little man and I so hope that Lola does too, as she gets bigger. I drove past their house this week and I tooted the car horn and then I had to drive past a little way to park. As I opened my car door I could hear his bereft sobbing because he "saw gramma, where IS gramma? Josh saw gramma's car, I WANNA SEE GRAMMA!!!" and he is always SO pleased to see me. People don't need dogs to get that unconditional love thing, get a grandbaby.
Do you want pictures? What?
Ok, here they are......


Laughing gas...which did not make her laugh, this was a fast and furious labour, no laughing allowed.



Can you see that love? Look how she needed him and how he held on to her as tightly as she held onto him.


Brand new and daddy cutting the cord.


Sweet Lola-Mae, we love you so much already.



All 8lbs 4oz of you.


Anybody able to resist tiny brand new baby feet does not have a heart.
I have a heart and this little girl is already so deeply wrapped around it, Hello Lola-Mae, welcome to our family. We love you.

21 today, 21 today, he's got the key to the door, never been 21 before.

Jordan Thomas Edward. 21 today.
From day one he has been my easiest child, he came into the world following 6 painless contractions, some pushes done in cold blood and amidst much laughing. I looked at him, this big boy with a mass of perfectly tidy hair and I had no idea what to think. He wasn't what I was imagining at all, there had been no pain at all delivering him, I felt as though someone had given me a cute new puppy when I had been hoping for a kitten.
I was distanced from him, able to do what he needed but still looking at him as someone else held him and wondering what the hell I was supposed to do with him. I did not want to breast feed, at all and refused to even try, with Dan I felt like c ow with one or the other udder out 24 hours a day and I just hated to even start that shinanigans again, the trouble is, he would not take a bottle, at all, he gagged and wretched and spat and he turned his head.
Everyone told me to breastfeed him, for 3 days, over and over, how he would starve and all he wanted was his mothers milk.
"He doesn't KNOW!" I would say, I hadn't even tried to feed him, how did he know that's what he wanted?
On day four, they beat me down, I gave in, so begrudgingly...and told them to pass him to me, I would give it a go but I didn't want to and they needn't think I was going to enjoy it, at all.
He latched on, he suckled for 5 minutes each side and he slept for 5 hours straight, every time. For 9 months. Delightful boy.
He loved me, if he could see me he was happy, if he couldn't, he screamed and that was the only time he screamed, ever. SO I just took him with me, everywhere, to the toilet, the kitchen, 3 steps to the right, he came too, it was a habit that suited us both, I never gave it a thought unless someone witnessed what we did and asked how I didn't go insane...then I would try and walk out of the door to show them what would REALLY drive me insane and they would get it.
He was a deliciously chubby baby, he loved to play with his hair and as I fed him he would rub his hair or reach for mine. He rubbed most of his hair off by the time he was 6 months old so he took to grabbing mine very gently and just rubbing it between his fingers.
I don't know if or when he would have grown out of screaming if he couldn't see me because he wasn't even 2 when his dad left and then when he was just 2 he was snatched and hurt so badly, well no-one ever questioned why he would scream if he couldn't see me then.
There is something about Jordan that has always had a most special part of my heart. So afraid was I that he would always be damaged and sad, so desperate for him to feel safe and be brave, I felt as though I had to shut off all emotions, strong feelings and tenderness, in order to get through it, make him well, help him grow up to be happy and unafraid without going insane.
He never ( that I can recall) made me lose my temper in the spectacular way that the others can do. Not until he was in his late teens anyway. Even then, if I am ever to lose my temper with him, he somehow knows how to diffuse it immediately and then he makes me laugh.
He always makes me laugh, he is quick and irreverant and says the kind of things that appeal to my humour, the sort of things that make you gasp because did he REALLY say that? And then laugh, because he did and it was so well timed and so wrong. On saturday at the park it was sweltering, truly almost unbearably hot and we were enjoying it but also not. Mel said " Oh I am SO hot!" and without a seconds thought he said " Oh don't flatter yourself!"
Now if anyone else said that it would most likely sound insulting but when he says it ..it's hysterical.
He gets away with talking that way to almost everyone, he also knows how to take it when it gets handed back, which helps.
I am enjoying watching him from a distance as he grows, he is doing a great job. He has found a new job and managed beautifully in the weeks he hasn't had work. He is doing what he should be doing and more. I see that the years I raised him alone have paid off, whatever I did, I did right, he makes me proud.
Now he is grown, he is still my easiest child. Lanky great git.

Well, I wasn't ready for THAT!

Well, well, some unexpected emotions have been making themselves most unwelcome today. I have no idea where they came from, am completely aware that they are ridiculous apart from the fact that at the time, they were very real. So real in fact that I wept copious amounts of stinging tears.
The whole experience of becoming a grandmother has been extraordinarily powerful, I had no idea that I would feel so strongly about this little scrap who is only mine in a second hand way. Once removed. From a distance.
The mothering instinct doesn't leave when your child has a child. I want my son to enjoy every positive and blissful second of being a father. I want him to excel in as many ways as is possible in the raising of this precious boy.
There are so many ways in which Joshua, should he following his fathers footsteps, will be the most glorious man. What better start is there for a boy than to have a father he should emulate?
Jordan is young and he hasn't had a particularly good role model for a father. His dad has loved him but has been ineffectual, he has stumbled at every single important hurdle. Luckily, the effect that this has had on Jordan is to make him determined to be different. Phew. Take a deep breath.
Jordan has faced some nightmares in his life that most young men don't face. He beat them, he is a good man. He is also very young.
I have watched him work, climb his chosen career ladder, I see people gravitate towards him and I feel enormous pride that I did so much of that. I know that he is who he is, I also know that I raised him from 23 months until he was 12 on my own. Through unbelievable circumstances.
He is a wonderful man, I am breathtakingly thrilled with how he is with his tiny son.
What I am trying to say in my long winded way, is that I still feel so much the mother, not just to him but to Mel and I am so grateful to be able to help them in the ways I can. H, as always is so gentle and accommodating, staying here with the squitty bum boys ( and raise a hand in gratitude to Joshua because without his being born, you so would have had daily and detailed account of how often and how violently these 3 boys have expelled their bodily contents over the past FOURTEEN DAYS, enough said) while I swan off to go to reflexology appointments, to go and walk with Mel, to run here and there, to see my grandson born, to kiss him, bath him, go shopping.
I don't feel the mother to Joshua, what I feel for him is something so new, I have yet to work out how it works. I want to give him the sun, moon and earth and I want to wrap it nicely.
I knew that I would love the fact that the nitty gritty is not my worry, I am so done with teething and night feeds, bulky great nappy bags, folding pushchairs up and down and all that malarkey.
So onto the bit that hit me in the heart and head today.
The first one has been to visit, big deal. We all know that this is a happy little blip in hi sself centred life, ooooh grandbaby, must visit and make a fuss, have fun and grasp the moment and then fizzle off into the distance while I continue my quest for happiness, must find happiness for ME, grandbaby is cute but must keep on keeping on doing what is needed for ME.
Whoppidoo. So why was my stupid heart and head so sad that fizzy grandad gave silver things and presents, a wad of cash and a big gesture? Beats me, but it did. A lot.
Mels mum is here, from Turkey, also buying presents and toys and stuff and more stuff. She is the other Nana. I want to be Nana but darn it if I can't quite make myself say it and when I open my mouth I hear myself saying " Let gramma get you a squeeze!" Gramma? That's my MUM! Who's gramma?? Oh well, we will see. Anyway, the thing is, I found myself snot crying in the kitchen to a bewildered H. Snot crying without any punctuation at all ( but will add some, just to make it easier to share)
"oh I know I am stupid and I know what I CAN give is so much more important and actually I remember my mum crying about this and I thought she was CRAZY but the thing is they are all buying him stuff and giving him hundreds of pounds for his bank account and toys and more stuff and I spent all our money on reflexology and petrol and knickers and newspapers and Lucozade so Mel would have energy to push and parking and lunch and more oils and more parking and boring stuff like chewing gum so I wouldn't breathe smelly breath on Mel when I was whispering to her to push harder and now I have no money for silver things and toys but wait til I go to Boston, he is getting stuff no-one else can buy because Argos? Stuff Argos! I am going to Boston and Cathy has Ralph Lauren stuff for him but I didn't buy that but she is my friend and so its sort of because of me and Jenn has a tiny little basketball kit for him and everyone loves him so I know this is all so stupid but WHY CAN'T I STOP CRYING?? The other Nana is going out tonight so I am going to get me a fix and give him a bath and that will be lovely won't it?"
And guess what, I did and it was.
It was bath time and you know that feeling when you are new at something and you know it needs doing but you are a bit scared to do it? That's bathtime at Joshuas house.
"He needs a bath but he hates it and I really wish I didn't have to do it because he really hates it but he needs it" said Mel ( who is English and hasn't heard that in America you don't bath a baby when it still has a cord, or that if you do it might all end terribly because we are in England and horror of horrors we DO give teeny tiny babies baths and wash off all the stinky old milk and pee and stuff. And guess what? Nothing. Sweet smelling babies with everything still working and the sky doesn't fall in, imagine that!)
So, oooh let me at him, can I do it? And Jordan came too.
Big bath with one of those impressive shaped hard plastic contraptions that support the baby. Right.
So I shoved that out of the way and I lay him in the water, hand under his head, he was screaming until I put the plam of his hand under the warm water. It is like magic. Enough water to cover him sufficiently to keep him warm, head and ears above the water and a firm grip, put that palm under the water and miracle of miracles the screaming will stop, those tightly screwed eyes will open and a look of such bliss you just know life is really alright.
Jordan stopped dead in his tracks, he called Mel...
"what? No screaming so I know he isn't in there yet and Oh would you look at you .."
"She just put his hand under the water and let him hold her finger...LOOK, oh mate, Nana really knows!"
Yes, she does and you know what? There isn't a silver certificate holder that can hold a candle to what Nana knows. Is there?
And for your enjoyment would you see what else Nana did?


( tiniest of teeny feet, be still my heart!)


Itty bitty finger nails.



*sigh*

WHO'S THE NANA?? Huh?

Mother!

Where to begin? So much to say so many pictures to show, so much to remember. Blogs and cameras are vital on days like today because the details, the little things, the minutae, all must be recorded because it is all so glorious.

Another beautiful day or heat and sunshine, plans and promises. Mel's baby shower was this evening and it was a resiunding success.

The highlights for me were the fact that Jordans friends came, teens like him but carefree and without responsibility, typical 19/20 year olds, loud and funny and gloriously glorious. I love that they call me 'Mother'. "Mother? What game we playing next?" "Hey Mother! Did you make these cakes? If I come to your house once a week will you make me some?" " Mother!!! What we doin' next?"

I fell in love with one of them, on behalf of Sophie, who also hearted him a little bit







Look how cute he is, but he is shy and gentle and I think she would eat him alive! He hid when I took pictures and was shy about joining in, I hardly heard his voice and I had to admit that this was not the right boy for my daughter!



The tables were set..





















Jordan fired up the bar-b-que, the men were outside in the bright clear evening and then, without a bit of warning....there was one flash of lightening a colossal thunder clap and then rain the likes of which even we here in England haven't seen.

Jordan did not want to admit defeat, he stood outside with an umbrella and tried to keep that fire going! He had worked all day marinating, preparing, perfecting.....and then this rain....















We pursuaded him to bring the food in and cook inside..







The food was outstanding, delicious and beautifully cooked.







We played games...











And Jordan guessed spot on, 8 squares of toilet paper to go around Mel's 38 week belly ( and about the same to go round my thigh I would guess!)





Yes, the guess the favour diaper poop game, which was worryingly popular....





Sniff...





Mmmmmmmmm, pears!





Yum, banana custard!





Beer bottles ( with orange juice for Berian) Mike was so impressive, he just stuck that thing in his mouth and it emptied in seconds, he explained how he always did like to suck on a tit....and then was reminded that grandma was here and insisted he said teat.







Blue drinks!!





Big Teddies from Uncle Dan.





Little teddies in hand made cribs from Grandma ( great grandma to baby may be Joshua)







Chocolate teddies and sucker teddies...









Gramma wanted to see the baby's pram, so Jordan got it out and we watched as all the MEN ooohed and ahhhhhed and pushed it to see how smooth it was, how the handle adjusts for TALL people and down for small people.











And then there was gifts, not extravagant as in the US, but thoughtful and appreciated, often handmade and precious, we don't do showers really in the UK, babies recieve gifts after they are born and usually whatever the giver chooses, no such thing as registeries or lists.











The thing is, you can't take pictures to capture how that felt this evening, to stand back and watch, take pictures, and listen, hear girls telling Mel that she has to do everything to make sure she keeps a hold of Jordan, to hear grown women say that he is a glorious boy. He is, of course and he is happy, which is just about the most splendid part of it all.

I like the word Mother, if I had nothing else, having that name would be enough.

Awwwwww NUTS!

If it's not one kid, it's another. Being a mum never stops, even when they are 6' 5", have their own home and are about to be a daddy. I was particularly wakeful, still up and emailing with Cathy at 2am! Then my cell started to ring! For heavens sake, I knew it was Sophie....answered to hear Jordan sobbing on the other end, really crying and saying over and over " Oh MUM! Oh mum!"
My heart sank and immediately I was worried about Mel and the baby ( always such a light and cheery soul, thinking the very worst at every opportunity!)
Then he said " Oh mum, I have the worst pain, really bad pain, please help me!"
I asked him where it hurt and told me " My balls, oh my balls, mum and my belly, please help me!"
Off I went and picked him up, to see that lanky streak of water, walking like John Wayne after an Epic cross mountain horse trek made my mother's heart ache and my mean mouth laugh....quite a bit.
He got in and couldn't sit or bend his legs..picture that if you will, he had to bend his legs because, you know.....half his height are those long legs of his!
It took us 15 minutes to get to the hospital and when we got there he hobbled his way to the reception and said " My balls REALLY HURT! Oh and my name is Jordan *******" I taught him so well, manners and decorum even in times of pain and fear.
HE went off with the Dr and Mel and I sat in the revolting and shameful NHS waiting room.
I was horrified to see that waiting room ( that was actually empty apart from us) it is being remodelled but that is no excuse for how filthy it was. Appalling and as I said shameful.
We made the best of it and had a picnic from the machines and Mel's handbag, she may have been in a hurry and worried about the possibility of future children with her most beloved but she had time to collect crisps, magazines and a baby name book! That's my girl!
We chatted about how she thought the middle of the night will be best to go into labour ( no traffic, marvellous) read every name in the magazine and laughed about the drunken youth brought in by 4 policemen.
Just 18 ( Mel knows him) face smashed up, clothes torn, only one shoe, grimy black socks and drunk as a skunk. The policemen left him and within seconds he slumped over, lifted his legs and head in a puddle of cold minestrone soup ( we hope, empty sup was beside it and some napkins next to it) and he slept. He looked the picture of what is wrong with this generations youth/ country / world....he lifted one arm across his bloody face and we saw that he had his surname tattooed on his inner forearm. Never have I seen a name so ill fitting. It could have been what he wishes he was but sadly, isn't.
Mel told me it is his surname and it was lucky that he was so passed out because, as we were so tired ( 4am at this point) we became very loud and hopelessly silly as we made up captions to go with the photo we SO wanted to take and post on my blog. We'd say his surname and then snort as we said " or NOT" or perhaps " AS IF!"
His surname ......NOBLE.
We didn't take a picture, though we could have as he was so drunk he would never have known and there wasn't a soul about, I just managed to grasp that little bit of human kindness and stop myself because surely that would have been against some kind of human rights or something.
I think I am almost saint like in my reserve because this example of what is wrong with Britain today has some kind of grudge against Jordan and apparently, whenever he is out on the town and drunk ( most days) he feels that his 5' 4" scrawny frame is a good match for the splendid boy I gave birth to.
Apparently he taunts Jordan and picks fights with him every single time, in fact even when he is sober, but in his flat which overlooks the road Jordan takes to work, he will jeer and shout unbecoming names.
Jordan came out to tell us what was happening, saw this kid lying flat out in the waiting room, looked down and said " Very good" and walked on by.
Anyway, at 5.30am when Jordan's twisted and painful testicle had miraculously just untwisted itself, I left because I was very giddy, thinking how miserable I was going to be when I had to get out of bed at 7.30am and Jordan had to wait for a surgeon to get out of the operating room. At 6am Jordan and Mel got weary of waiting and he was allowed to go home, he has to check in with his GP and get checked out and if the pain starts again he has to go right back in, it's very unusual for this to just correct itself. So we'll see.
This morning I went and paid the last £670.50 and the house is ours, we took H's woodworking stuff over and walked around feeling happy, ate lunch and I went for a nap because I was ready to rip some heads off and cry like a weary toddler.
H has done a mountain of packing while I slept and I feel as though we might actually get this done.
Hoorah.