The clock is ticking. The pregnancy clock, that is. 29 days to go until
my daughter’s due date. And you know what’s helpful—her due date is Election
Day, so I don’t even have to keep track of it by myself.
Being the good American citizen that I am, I’ve already voted absentee for our new
president. I didn’t want to take a chance that I’d be in Maryland on Election
Day, unable to get back to Virginia to vote. But one thing is for sure—if
Leah is in labor on Election Day, I won’t give a hoot who wins. Because I’ll
be awaiting my first grandchild!
It’s still quite surreal for me. I mean, I know I’ll be holding my grandchild in
my arms by this time next month (God willing!) But I can’t quite visualize
it. I guess I’m feeling much the same way I felt when I was pregnant with
Leah. I could feel this tiny little life moving inside me, but it was almost
impossible to imagine holding her. (Not that I knew it was a girl, of course.)
I remember what special times they were—the two times I was pregnant. For
the most part, I really enjoyed being pregnant. I felt special, even
though I knew I was doing nothing special. Getting pregnant and giving
birth…well, it’s not a unique experience for women. But still…I felt special.
And I loved feeling the baby move inside me. That’s a sensation I actually
missed after I gave birth, can you believe it?
But one thing I didn’t miss were the wild hormonal swings. After I complained
to Frank about a little spat Leah and I had in Kentucky, he reminded me of an incident
that took place back in Colorado Springs while I was pregnant with Leah. I
was standing at the kitchen window, washing dishes, and idly gazing outside.
Suddenly I saw our next door neighbor, a cute little blonde named Vicki step outside
her house and start talking to someone I couldn’t see. She was laughing and
smiling and looking cute as a button. And then I saw who she was talking to—Frank!
And he was laughing and smiling and…well, he was always cute—even though he wouldn’t
appreciate being called cute. So, I’m standing there, eight months
pregnant, and watching my husband flirt with the slender girl next door. And
suddenly, I felt ugly and fat—and jealous!
When he walked into the house a few minutes later, I was in tears. And the
first words out of my mouth? “If you think Vicki is so pretty, why don’t you
just sleep with her?” And sobbing, I ran into our bedroom, slammed
the door and fell onto the bed, but not before seeing the completely dumbfounded
look on Frank’s face.
And this, Frank politely reminded me of, when I complained about Leah’s moodiness.
I had to laugh because I’d totally forgotten about that little scene. J So, no…I don’t miss the wild hormonal
Remember how I told you I’d try to get that YouTube video of my “Lighten Up” performance
online for you? Well, it’s up, but it’s not great. Unfortunately, our
crappy camera decided to act up when Frank did a zoom on me, and it kind of fast-forwarded
my solo. But you can watch it if you want to, but just remember—I didn’t screw
up; the camera did.
Congratulations to Michele Smith of Mass City, MI and Sheila Pepe from Tinley Park,
IL—the two lucky winners of my website contest last month. They both won copies
of my books and a custom-made necklace (yet to be made…I’m getting to it, I promise!)
Check out this month’s contest at my website,
Have a great October—and the next time you hear from me, I’ll be Nana Carole!!!