A prayer for my bambino

Having written a prayer for the first two of my first-born grandchildren it was only right that I should write one for my little Italian baby.

A prayer for my bambino
You are a child of the world, a child born out of and into love. The journal of your life is yet to be written, blank pages for you to write your own story. And it will be an adventure story.

I pray that your life will be long and filled with love. I pray that you will grow strong and healthy in body and spirit. I pray that you will find delight in the ordinary and excitement in the extraordinary.

You can read the rest of it here.

P.S. Do you like my wonderful artwork?!!

Our new princess

Daughter had been having false starts since last Wednesday and by Saturday delivery was a week overdue. I was on call to go and collect/look after the children when labour began in earnest so it wasn't a good time for our telephone landline to stop working.

I am notorious for never having a clue where my mobile is so Daughter nagged me. 'You are keeping your phone with you, aren't you?'
'Yes.'
'And switched on?'
'Yes.'

What I didn't discover until much later was that although my phone was on, it was on mute.

So when she rang us at 12.55 am we were asleep and didn't answer. Nor did we reply at 1.15, which was when she tried texting me. And then texting Husband who has the hearing of a ninja mole so he registered the tinkly ping of a message being received.

This was a call for SuperGranny! I was out of bed, dressed and on the road in minutes. Of course I left my bag of essentials (bed-socks, jimjams and woolly cardi) behind and it was only thanks to automatic pilot - and empty roads - that I got there before I woke up.

The children were asleep upstairs so it was my job to go up and make sure everyone stayed up there. I'd just made myself a little nest and was settling down when GrandDaughter woke up. And spent the next 2 hours chatting to me with me responding extra loudly when the moans from downstairs grew particularly audible.

At 3.30 Son-in-law came up to invite us down to meet Baby who'd been born 15 minutes earlier.

It's amazing how awake and happy it is possible to be at such a ridiculous hour of the morning after very little sleep. I even got to hold her while she had her vitamin injection - and her big sister held her hand for it.

New GrandDaughter weighed in at a whopping 8 lb 14 oz. She was born in the birth pool and both mother and daughter are doing brilliantly.

And, incidentally, GrandSon2 slept right through everything!

P.S. GrandDaughter2 was born just 3 hours too late to be able to claim the special silver coin signifying that she was born on the same day as Princess Charlotte. I was rather glad about that: our princess is too special to be the same as anyone else.

(Practically) perfect in every way

So Daniel Peter arrived safely on Thursday 16th January. Weighing in at 8 lb 3 oz he's absolutely gorgeous obviously. Mother and baby both doing well. He was born late in the evening so on the Friday Husband and I scooted off to Surrey to meet him and have our share of cuddles. What can you say about a new-born except that he's perfect in every way?

It occurred to me at some time afterwards that it is likely that not one of our grandchildren will be born in Wales: the first four were born in England and should Younger Son and Nuora have children it's possible they could be born in Malaysia or Italy. However Younger Son, who was born in England and has an English father, insists on being Welsh - to Husband's disgust! - so our grandchildren will have a strong Celtic tie I'm sure.

Husband has always said that if I don't have things to worry about I invent things. A little while ago I woke in the middle of the night and began to think: suppose YS and Nuora have a baby in Malaysia and suppose it gets ill in the middle of the night. They will be on a remotish island; how will they get medical help?

I managed to tell myself not to be so stupid and that babies have been born and survived in the Perhentian Islands for centuries so I've stopped worrying about that but now I have a concern that is potentially even more difficult to resolve.

Suppose YS and Nuora one day have a son and he grows up and plays rugby for Italy. Who on earth would I support when Wales played Italy in the Six Nations? You see what I mean? Huge dilemma.

Strangely enough I only seem to worry about future possible grandchildren rather than the existing ones. Like Husband says, when I don't have anything to worry about I make it up.

Not here yet

Grandchild 4 was due 9 days ago. 

We're still waiting. And jumping each time the phone rings.