In the past week and a half, we have had both of RB's grandmothers visit. What a fucking gift. Literally. I cannot convey my appreciation.
My mom visited for a week. She calls him Bobo, and RB will call her Momo when the time comes. There was something very cathartic about seeing my mom with my baby. RB was asleep when she got here. We brought him to the living room for his night feeding and she quietly stared at him in awe. Her excitement was palpable. The morning came, she woke up, and she basically (maybe literally) said "where is that baby?!" I handed him over and that was that. You see, she'd met him when he was born, but time constraints (the kid was 8 days late!) led her back to Texas pretty quickly afterward. This last week, her goal was to soak up his baby goodness as much as humanly possible. Every morning, the first thing she did was make a beeline to RB like he was a magnet of her opposite polar. They had a bottle then it was time to visit the changing table (RB's favorite place, lest you forget) for some belly raspberries and big baby smiles. They spent the afternoons in the backyard, talking and soaking up the sunshine. They rocked in the nursery. They giggled (well, Mom did, RB isn't quite there yet, but he cooed like crazy) and they sang. Momo loves music and so does this baby. They had lots and lots of cuddles. She calmed him when he cried, and he gave her a run for her money one evening. That night, she never wavered; she never flinched. She rocked and sang to that boy and was cool as a cucumber and, eventually, she prevailed and he fell into the deepest sleep. He trusted her and was so comfortable in her arms that he gave up his tirade and slept the longest he has ever slept. She is literal magic. It was beautiful to witness.
The day after my mom left, Beau's mom got here. Cici, to RB. She was in the same boat as my mom - came for his birth, and the stinker was over a week late, so she had to head back home a few days after he was born too. She walked in our house and was drawn toward RB like a fish on a hook: fast, direct, and damn intentional. It was her birthday too, which was pretty cool. She scooped that baby up like she'd been waiting to for years. She has, actually. She never said a word, but we now know she was secretly patiently waiting for this precious creature, and my parents were too. I handed RB to her and then a few minutes later realized I hadn't said hi myself (damn mommy brain). She couldn't get enough of him either. I think she could talk to him and look at him for days on end and be quite content. Actually, I know she could, because that's exactly what she's done since she got here. They have played and talked and cuddled. He has trusted her and felt safe in her arms. It has been an incredible sight. We went to a local baby store and she bought him a whole new wardrobe, which he needed because he'd outgrown almost all of his 0-3 month clothes. Turns out Cici has very stylish taste because our boy is going to be looking good in his new duds. While we were there, she saw a pacifier that looked a lot like the one Beau used to love. He was apparently very particular about the kind of pacifier he wanted; so particular that out of all four of her children, his is the only one she remembers exactly what it looked like. RB has been struggling to consistently take a pacifier. She suggested we give that one a try and I'll be damned if he didn't take to it like he'd always been doing it. He loved it. Cici solved the great pacifier confusion of 2023. She's a fucking wizard. Tonight she asked to give him a bath and I said hell yes. She taught me a lot about what to do (I've no idea what the hell I'm doing) and she got that sweet creature to bed. He was so deeply asleep by the time she laid him down. She even volunteered to do the night shift.
Now, mind you - I have not had more than 4 consecutive hours of sleep since he was born. That's eleven weeks ago. I'm fairly certain the military bases prep soldiers for potential torture by putting them through a similar sleep schedule. I heard that or read that somewhere. If it's wrong, pardon me. I know this shit is hard though. I started this blog last night and was in the fucking trenches of sleep deprivation as I typed this. Today, I'm finishing it after seven and a half hours of sleep. I told Beau I died and came back to life. I didn't wake up one time. Pretty rare for me, but my body, my mind, and my heart needed rest.
Because we're in Florida while our families are in Texas, we haven't really gotten to take advantage of the grandparents yet. Don't fret - we fully plan to drop this kid off in Texas in the summers and between his Momo and El Jefe (my parents -- my dad wants to be called Grandpa Jeff but Beau and I are campaigning for El Jefe; we'll see who wins), his Cici and Doc (Beau's mom and partner), and his Gigi and Pop-pop (his godmother and her husband), I am confident he will have quite the summer adventures. I've already warned all of them that I will be dropping him off and it will be on them to coordinate who has him when and to trade off as needed. My brother and I would spend time at our grandparent's houses without my parents during the summer and I do think it was so good for us. We want RB to have as much exposure to our family as possible, and for our family to have as much RB exposure as possible. It's important for everyone because this kid is a gift from the actual heavens and he should be loved and cherished by as many people as possible. I love to see the love our family has for RB.
It's so clear to me after watching him with his grandmothers that they will always, always be there for him. They won't judge him - they'll just love him. They'll pick him up when he's down. They will help when he needs it. They'll be his biggest cheerleaders. They'll teach him what they know and they'll help him grow into the incredible person he'll become.
I guess what I'm getting at here are grandparents are the greatest thing since sliced bread. I can't think of just one word to describe just how awesome they are, so here's a few: amazing, astonishing, miraculous, marvelous, stellar, top-shelf, out of this world. They are top-notch, stupendous, extraordinary blessings from whatever energy runs this universe. They are the fucking bee's knees. They are remarkable and wondrous boons. I am so thankful for them.
Next grandparent we expect to see is my dad, aka El Jefe, aka Grandpa Jeff. Dad, if you're reading this, get your RB-obsessed ass out here. We've got a fat and happy baby for you to hang out with you're ready.
Comments