It is four AM, and after peeing for about ten times (eight of which before one am, when I fell asleep), I decided that my heroic efforts to sleep can now come to an end, since I slept all of three hours, yo! and I can ramble into the world wide web with that free flowing train of unintelligible thoughts created by a mixture of tiredness, excitement, lack of sleep and progesterone.
After my baby shower and the raining pigs, the next unlikely step in the sequence of events is that I am going home to my Little Town WITH GRANDMA ! She will be staying with MrH and me and the birds and the cat until I deliver, then my mom will join us as well and MrH will find himself in the middle of a big Romanian circus for two more weeks, surrounded by three (no, four by then, with Emma) Romanian women all screaming for attention. The poor man, not knowing what to do, will probably work double shifts at work just to get away. We, on the other hand, figuring that he needs to eat to keep up his strength after all this work, will be feeding him pastry and home cooked meals until he won't remember what has happened to him.
MrH, are you afraid yet? You sweet thing you...
But, all joking aside, this definitely begs the question as to why is grandma coming with me for such a long time, in particular since she did not say that she wants to come or that she does not want when I asked her, and hence I had to make the decision and say "you're coming", then change the tickets for both of us one more time at 100 dollars per person per change, then listen patiently AFTERWARDS to her explain why she cannot come ("I'm tired, I'm cold and I get dizzy" being the most coherent reasons that I got so far), then nodding and saying yes, you are still coming, knowing that her excuses are just so that if she does not enjoy the trip she has me to blame for making her come with me.
Moreover, why would I decide that she should come? Difficult question... As many of you may have noticed, she does say mean things and is very often critical and hard to be with, but at the same time she is old and pretty frail, and she will not live long, hence it would be nice to spend some time with her now that I can. I am the only one not working at the moment, if I left her in Vancouver she would get bored all by herself all day long. She can keep me company while I am knitting on the porch with Max on my shoulder.
I was talking to my mom yesterday about how she is so incredibly difficult and critical, yet both of us know that she raised us with utmost care. There were hard economic times when mom was small, and enough food only for one of them two, so grandma would not eat until mom had finished eating just so that she has enough. As for me, left in her care for a few years while my parents lived on a construction site as part of their training in civil engineering, I remember her stuffing me full of food and shouting at me to eat more and more every day. I asked her now why, why did she have to forcefully feed me until I gained more weight than a normal 3 year old should (probably creating my lifelong battle with the adipose tissue early on, and my complex about being overweight even when my BMI has always been 23-24, which is normal by Canadian standards). She told me now that she was afraid that my parents would criticize her for not taking proper care of me if I was not fat. Like this, with me being overweight, she could pride herself into having done a good job. This must be a war concept that I am clearly not getting with my life spent counting calories....
Anyway, long story short, grandma is important to both of us, and she is coming with me, so ya'll be hearing about her in the next month I think. Unless she refuses to get on that plane. Which she is totally capable of doing, even after letting me pack her bags, and at the last minute. This is great practice for the terrible twos coming up for me shortly.
Speaking of which, I saw a book at Winners about potty training, for about 3 dollars. I briefly glanced at it, shrugged, and elected to spend the 3 dollars on a pair of blue boy shorts in microfiber. Anybody here think that it hasn't yet clicked in for me that I am having a baby? Please don't all raise your hands at the same time, my laptop screen will crack.
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