Yesterday, I made Elannah laugh so hard she cried when I admitted that one time I answered the phone and some random sales guy asked me if I was [my mother's name] and I said yes without thinking and then the conversation went on for about 30 seconds before I remembered that I am not my mother and had to interrupt the caller to correct myself and there was this long pause while we both pondered why it took me that long to figure it out.
And I was an adult when that happened. Married, with children.
Elannah had to wipe tears away. She said, "You literally turned into your mother!" I warned her it would happen to her, too, someday. Maybe not in that exact same way.
For some reason, I remembered that curious little incident because she was telling me about these two girls she has become good friends with this year and how the three of them have great texting banter. "Banter" was the word she deliberately used to describe their conversations. Don't ask now what the exact connection was between female bantering and that tale of my complete loss of self-identity because I don't remember. I'm a little sleep deprived.
But my sleep deprivation also comes with a lovely little story of its own: my delightful, intelligent, tiny, amazing, preemie grandson finally got to come home from the hospital. I invited myself over to Sian's and Nathan's house this last weekend for two reasons: to let Sian get some sleep and to reassure her that she is a good mother.
Mission one: Sian and Nathan are too paranoid to let Tyler sleep while not being watched over. The nurses and doctors put the fear of God into them about newborns suffocating, so they now refuse to swaddle him or prop him up with a tightly rolled blanket against his back while he's sleeping--both things I used to do with my own newborns. Therefore, they take shifts in the night. Since I was there, we divided the night into three 3-hour shifts, and I volunteered for the middle one, 2-5am.
The only problem was that they have the one bed in their one-bedroom apartment, and Tyler sleeps out in the living room on a little makeshift bed on the couch because he currently refuses to sleep in his crib (the mattress is cold, and they're too worried about suffocation to put a sheet on it). Since Nathan had the first shift, I didn't have a problem sleeping with my daughter on their king-size bed for a few hours. But when Sian came in at 5am to take her shift, I told her to go back to bed. Not only did I want her to get more sleep, but I felt it might be kind of awkward to sleep in the same bed with my son-in-law. Love the guy, but that crosses some kind of line, amiright? So Sian got a full night of sleep and Nathan slept in the next morning and also got some good sleep. Parents of newborns really need that. Bonus: no awkwardness ensued.
Mission two: I have nothing but respect for the caring and knowledgable nurses and doctors who take such good care of preemies in the NICU. The unexpected consequence of having a baby in the NICU for nearly two months, however, is that a new mother constantly gets corrected or instructed on how to take care of her baby, and it's easy to start doubting your own mothering abilities and instincts. This is the case with Sian, and now that she doesn't have nurses and monitors telling her every little thing about Tyler, she feels overwhelmed and inadequate. So I spent a lot of time encouraging her and praising her as she very expertly fed him, burped him, changed his diaper, and reacted to all his little needs. I did not give her advice or tell her that she should do things the way I did them. She's doing a fine job, and I think she just needed to be validated, which I am perfectly happy to do. If there are two people in the world who will be good parents, it's my daughter and son-in-law.
While I was down at my oldest daughter's place, my third daughter was at my house. She's recently moved down to Utah Valley to get a job before attending college, but she still has duties as the reigning queen of our city, so on Saturday she needed to head back there to fulfill some of those duties. Also to see her boyfriend and give him presents for his birthday. But I'm sure her major reason was to fulfill her duties and see her dad, brothers, and sister. I'm sure.
What's great about Sophia's new living arrangement is that Gabrielle also moved in to the same house. It's a good house in a good neighborhood with good roommates. Gabrielle had lived with her previous roomies for three years now, but it was time for a change, and I was very grateful that she hopped on the chance to snag the empty room that was still available in Sophia's new place. She also got Sophia a job where she's working, which is at Geomni. It's a good full-time job with excellent pay, so now Sophia (who was living off her savings until she got a job) can afford long-term to pay rent, buy food, save for school, and enjoy a social life and entertainment. I couldn't be happier about this turn of events. It's kind of my dream to have my girls living with each other and looking out for each other, and I love that both of them also live close to Sian and Nathan and their new nephew.
Sophia's move has been really hard on Elannah, though. Sophia and Elannah are best friends, and it was difficult for Elannah after Sophia graduated from high school. Elannah also broke up with her boyfriend (I'm not sad about that, and it was her choice. He's a great kid, but they're young and I want Elannah to date more people), so she felt like she didn't have any close friends to be with at school this year. This is why I'm happy that she's found a couple of girls with whom she gets along so well and who share her dry sense of humor. She and her ex are back to being good friends (she can't imagine dating him again, however), and she's got some good male friends, but there's nothing like having a couple really good female friends who have your back.
Elannah also has a strong sense of duty as an older sister because Joseph started high school this year as a freshman, and she wants him to be comfortable. Joseph, as you know, was in the district's homebound program throughout junior high, and I was ready to sign him up for it again for high school when he announced that he wanted to register for classes and go to school for 9th grade. So I jumped on that, and he's thrived with all his new classes. You have no idea how much of a relief that is for Husband and me that he's taking such big steps to overcome his anxiety.
Yesterday evening, even as I got hit hard by the delayed effects of the sleep deprivation of the weekend (this is why you have babies when you're young!), I felt a great sense of satisfaction and joy as I sat with my sons and daughter and husband and had dinner and laughed and talked together. Life is good.
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