I babysat with Jacob last night, and he had a hard time going to sleep. He'd fuss, then he'd cry, then he'd be quiet, and I thought I was home free. Then he'd start through that litany of sounds again, and I held my breath. But after 20-25 minutes, all was quiet, and I thought he was asleep. Well, he probably was for about 45 minutes, and then he awoke screaming--I was on the phone with my brother. When I went into his room, poor little Jacob sobbed and held his arms up to be picked up. Well, discipline and good habits be darned, who could resist that? So I picked him up, and he clung to me like I was the last and only port in a terribly scary storm. I sat in the rocker and talked to him, and soon he was asleep--a great snuffly sleep because his nose is still stuffy from whatever attacked him earlier in the week.
Grandmothers have to realize--and it's hard--that we aren't the primary people in our grandchildren's lives. It's not the same as when we had children, and they instinctively turned to us--we were the anchors in their world. Grandchildren turn to their parents in the same way, and since I'm usually around my grandchildren and their parents at the same time--after all, they live far and I love the parents' company too--I'm not alone with the babies. So it's probably been over 30 years, when Jordan was a baby, since I've had a warm little body press itself against me in that kind of desperate hold. I've got to admit I loved it. I rocked him long after he'd gone to sleep, probably at least 30 minutes--and friends will tell you I'm not one to sit in a chair and rock for thirty minutes. But that warm, snuffly little body was snuggled into me. When I did finally put him in his crib, he cried, but I patted his back and he went to sleep.
Of course, he woke up about 1:30--the monitor was still in my bedroom, though Jordan later moved it. So I went to check on him. This morning Christian said he too checked on him. I laughed and said Jacob would figure out that if he cried in the night he'd get a parade of people into his room. But babysitting was a lovely event last night.
Here it is September, and we're not going to Scotland until April, but we're already shopping. I bought some shoes today--Jeannie insists they must have good arch support because we're going to walk a lot--and a hat (Scotland can be cold in April apparently). And I found a fling and a corduroy shirt that I want for the trip--I'm going to blow my budget on clothes beforehand and not have any left for the trip! I've also been exploring the web to find b&bs near Loch Ness. I guess planning is half the fun. Jeannie, on the other hand, worried most about tickets. Being a former flight attendant and the wife of a retired pilot, she flies on miles all the time and knows the ins and outs, mostly, of reservations--I don't give it a thought. But she insisted we figure it out yesterday, and we did. She's flying miles and I'm buying a ticket business class (don't ask!) but as of yesterday we are both ticketed. I'm really getting excited about this. Doing lots of reading about Scottish history and the MacBain clan. I even paid my clan dues, as though it would make me legitimate.