Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Grandparent(s) (04/03/08)
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TITLE: Hoping for Hip | Previous Challenge Entry
By Dianne Janak
04/05/08 -
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“Grand-ma” sounds like obese hillbilly, and strikes a raw chord, but Didee sounds hip, and God knows I need hip.
This is a tall tale that is short, or a short tale that is tall. I’m really too tired to care. We’re first year survivors and need a standing ovation. Or a crown.
When the doctor calmly announced during the ultrasound “there were three of them,” my daughter asked…”three WHAT?” I didn’t realize she expected puppies.
My reaction when hearing the news was to eat a whole pan of brownies and then go to bed. Believing I could bank some sleep hours for her if I got an early start, I started to identify way too closely.
I felt suddenly old. My knees and back were hurting, and I worried how on earth I could carry three babies. I had to be reminded she was the pregnant one, not I. Where did the time go? I still haven’t met Mel Gibson.
She had mandatory bed rest at four months, so I started taking more naps. She had to eat more calories, so I added ice cream to my snacks . This was a priceless adventure. Identifying may be sick, but such a trip. I was a hip trip.
My “friends” were worried when I started throwing up in the morning and planned an age intervention. They all brought mirrors for my reality check and I cried. I’m still not over it.
The first day I rocked my week -old grandson was special. I planned to spend an hour for each baby, singing songs about Jesus, praying and introducing them to their new world.
My daughter broke my bubble.
“There you are, Mom. What are you doing? I thought you were napping for me again. “
“Don’t be smart. I’m bonding with Nathan.”
After silence she suppressed her laughter.
“That’s nice but that’s Matthew.”
I guess I need to save up for Matthew’s therapy when he’s fifteen.
We all somehow made it threw the first year. Sleep deprivation does strange things to an ordinary life in the burbs.
My son- in- law poured water on his cereal. My daughter raced to pick up crying Jordyn one night before she woke up her brothers , and grabbed Nathan by mistake. I ran over more curbs than usual, and one night woke up my husband when I started burping him in my dreams.
First Year Facts:
1. Diapers for triplets: 30 a day $75 a week
2. Formula: 24 bottles a day $150 a week
3.Sleep for parents: None
4.Grandparents: Some ( the law of the perks)
People can be odd. Strangers would stop us on the street as we strolled the babies in the stroller, asking us “are they real?” Or “are they the same?” I was so tempted to say, “ they’re all plastic and cloned. We’re on Oprah next week.”
The Moms - of -Multiples group was a life saver. For the first four crazy sleep- deprived weeks, we didn’t have to make any meals. We were all zombies helping with shifts of feeding, diapering, washing clothes, making bottles, cleaning, holding, and doing it all over again every three hours. I secretly fantasized putting Prozac in our tea for sanity.
Just when we thought we couldn’t do another day, the doorbell would ring, and in came a Mom- of -Multiples with a meal, a smile and a word of encouragement.
“The first year’s always a blur. None of us even remember it. I promise you it gets better. You will survive. “
One woman with four -year -old twins waiting in the car gave us that speech and we just smiled at her. We didn’t have the heart to tell her her blouse was on inside out.
Underneath a tree that was planted in their backyard in memory of two miscarriages a few years before, lies a rock we bought at Michael’s with the word “HOPE” painted on it. That was the name of the first grandbaby lost, and we always wanted to remember her. Under the name were three painted daises.
God had given us a sign.
I absolutely love the name “ Didee,” so don’t mess with me. I’m hip.
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Actually I'm inclined to think that "made it threw the first year" was a Freudian slip, rather than a mere typo :).
My mother refused point blank to be even a "Gwanny" - there was one already - but insisted on being called "Moggie". This was not only hip-ness, but to recognise the important role that cats played in our extended family.
Great work. Go hip-Didee!
I enjoyed the anecdotes but thought that the statistical section on first year facts was superfluous and broke the flow somewhat. Might have given you room for just one more delightful yarn.
I laughed at this line and many others in this very humorous piece. I liked the sarcastic remarks. They really set the tone for this story.
One teeny tiny minor error that I saw, you used the word "threw" at one point when it should have been "through." No biggie though. :)
Thank you for adding a nice bit of humor to this week's topic. You put a smile on my face.
"I was so tempted to say, “ they’re all plastic and cloned. We’re on Oprah next week".'
Wonderfully funny story, well done!
I love this line: "I guess I need to save up for Matthew’s therapy when he’s fifteen." LOL
My mom refused to be called grandma, too--thought it made her sound too old. So she was called Oma--grandma in German. But the ultimate joke was on her--she found out years later that in Germany, Oma is used for a really old grandma. :)
Great job with the topic.