Raging Grand Adventure

It all began on Sunday with the normal repartee of the extended clan around the dinner table making bets on which grandparent would cry at the pending announcement of a new family member.  All bets were placed on the paternal great grand, which took all the fun out of it because there really isn't a bet when everyone agrees to the same outcome.  Rats, no money making possibilities there just lots of good laughs and some loving teasing.  I enjoyed the banter as I knew I was in for an epic week that would require me to stay out far past my bed time, not once but thrice.   The only possible wiggle room in the schedule was Thursday.

On Monday I was wiggling in my seat with thousands of other fifty year olds while the Eagles regaled us with the sounds of our youth.  It was a fantastic experience, with the old guys putting on a show just shy of three hours long without the assistance of an opening act.  I don't think I have ever been to a concert on a Monday night in my life, certainly not one that ended at eleven o'clock.  And, until Monday I hadn't ever ridden our esteemed light rail transit but under Chelsea's able supervision, my friend and I were equipped with tickets and instructions.  I'll have you know we did just fine navigating the nuances of the park and ride, the ticket validating machines, pushing the yellow buttons to make the doors open, and finding our way back out after spending the evening enjoying the music.  So there were two more firsts that I could knock off my list of things to experience.

Tuesday, the state of healthcare exploded again in Alberta with yet another Alberta Health Services reorganization announcement.  And on Tuesday I decided I might have to become a raging granny between the state of our education system, the healthcare predicament, and the fact that a grandchild is due shortly.  With pending granny-status, well-meaning individuals have been informing me of how I will feel about the new grandchild when it arrives and what I will do with that new little person.  That kind of thing just makes me really prickly, so does lack of sleep which was becoming a theme for the week.  Almost belligerent which doesn't seem very granny-like.

Wednesday was teaching night, another late night filled with extraordinary opportunities to learn and laugh.  It was an opportunity to reflect on the unusual capacity of youth to embody hope for those of us on the cusp of a raging grand adventure.  Although the night was dark and it was long past my bedtime when I returned home, I was encouraged by the enthusiasm and energy that I saw in those I have the privilege to teach.

By Thursday I was looking forward to a respite from the craziness of the week's days and nights.  It was not to be.  For on Thursday, the day was so entirely topsy turvy that I cried in a vice president's office in the afternoon which broke one of my cardinal laws of business; to never be seen crying at work.  What put me over the edge was a simple text message announcing that JMH had arrived making me officially a raging granny.  However, I am quite sure that the great grandmother mentioned earlier cried multiple times that day before me!  My non-granny life was over and it was time for a new raging grand adventure.

The announcement didn't bring on the predicted knitting of booties or baking of cookies, it did however trigger Greg to have another heartfelt talk with Kanti in the dark on Thursday night over a sip of celebratory scotch.  I was sound asleep but I have it on good authority that said conversation occurred.  Kanti was informed of the arrival of a beautiful little boy and notified of her duties to watch out for him.  It was impressed on her that she needed to be extremely gentle and she was promised a proper introduction very soon.  Sometimes I wonder how much scotch he is sipping, but Greg tells me all about these crazy conversations the following day so I am of the opinion that they really do occur in all seriousness.

Friday arrived at four o'clock for both of us.  Wide awake and thinking about that little fellow.  Although they were pleasant thoughts, I do need to admit to having some fear.  Months ago, I had committed to volunteering in the count room of a casino over an hours drive from home to raise funds for our local library.  My shift was not due to start until eleven o'clock at night.  Starbucks and Tim Horton's got lots of business from me through out the work day in preparation for the night.  I left home long after I would normally be winding down for the night.  I left as Kanti was going to her sleeping quarters, reminding myself that it was just another grand adventure and that I probably shouldn't volunteer for something similar very soon.

Saturday morning at three-thirty, I pulled back into the driveway tired but still awake thanks to the jittery jolting effects of the caffeine products that I had imbibed throughout the day.  So, little JMH, I apologize in advance for not being the stereotypical grandmother.  It's highly unlikely that I will knit any booties but we will have a raging grand adventure getting to know one another because I fully intend to do this grandmother thing, my way.  Full tilt head-on, filling the days to the brim and trying out new things all the way.  Welcome to the world, little fellow.