Waiting for Avery

I will be the first to admit it. I'm not very good at waiting; especially if it's something I really want (like a new purse or new shoes). Usually, once I make my mind up that I want something, I will just go out and get it. No waiting, no telling myself I need to save my money and then I can go out and get it. Nope, I just go get it. That's why waiting for the arrival of my first grandchild is making me just a little bit crazy. Unlike buying something on Amazon, there's no expedited shipping available when it comes to the birth of a baby, no matter how much money I would be willing to plunk down if I could specify that I wanted him to arrive in 1-2 business days. My little Peanut will arrive when he's good and ready. I flew to Georgia four days ago to be there in time for his estimated arrival date of August 12. My daughter Amanda met me at the Savannah airport, hugely pregnant, her belly leading the way. After giving her a tearful hug, I put my hands on her belly and felt my grandchild move for the first time. Believe me, being a long-distance Nana is the worst kind of torture. As I felt him moving around under my hands I leaned over and said to her belly "Avery, Nana's here. You can come out now." Either my message got lost in a haze of amniotic fluid or he is going to be just as stubborn as his mother because to date, he's yet to leave the building and I think it's going to take an eviction notice of a dose of pitocin to get him out.
 In the meantime, Amanda and I have been able to spend some time together sightseeing in nearby Savannah (under the guise of doing a lot of walking to induce her labor) and I've had four days to acclimate myself to the South. Not only have I had to adjust to the god-awful humidity that is like swimming through water the minute you walk out the door, but I've also had to re-wire myself to move at a much slower pace to be in tune with all the folks who live here. At the risk of offending my few Southern friends by this observation, I would have to say that now I know why people in the South talk slow and move slow. It's the damned heat and humidity! I guess if there's any positive to this weather, it's that I can't tell if I'm having a hot flash or if I'm just sweating naturally. So my feverish and sweaty red face and armpit-soaked shirts that defy the strongest of anti-perspirant just seem to blend in with the way everyone else looks. If I'm this miserable, I can't even begin to imagine how uncomfortable my daughter must be feeling lugging around a stomach the size of a large watermelon.
 All things considered, she's being a good sport about things and even seems (or pretends) to enjoy the "tourist" things we've done since I got here. First on the list was Sunday brunch at Paula Deen's restaurant "The Lady and Sons." I was really hoping for a glimpse of Jamie Deen but no luck, so I had to content myself with indulging in the vast array of food on the buffet table. Fried chicken, pulled pork, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, yams...the Southern heart-attack list goes on and on. Naturally, Amanda and I both took way too much food. She had the excuse of eating for two - I was just piggish and greedy. And as if the buffet food wasn't enough, there were homemade biscuits and pancakes delivered to your table, plus endless glasses of sweet tea. I was a little confused about what a pancake was doing on a lunch buffet and I'm sure I showed my "Yankee-ness" when I covered it with syrup and ate it like it was for breakfast.
 Of course we had to walk off this huge meal so we did some sightseeing in downtown Savannah and then headed out to Tybee Island (which really isn't an island so I'm not sure why they call it that) so that I could say hello to the Atlantic Ocean again. Funny, that even though it's still the Atlantic, it behaves like a totally different ocean down here. There are no big waves crashing into the rocks, no sharp smell of rotten fish or seaweed, just miles of white sandy beaches and gentle waves that just meander into the shore. Again, it's that slower pace - even at the ocean.
 After our trip to the beach we took in a Savannah Sand Gnats baseball game. I just loved the feel of the stadium and the cool logo of a sand gnat wearing sunglasses and swinging a baseball bat. I got my grandson his very first baseball - a miniature Sand Gnats one that I'm sure he could fit into his tiny hand (if he ever decides to be born).
 In between the sightseeing we've also spent time organizing her house and getting the nursery ready. While Amanda was at work today, I reorganized her kitchen cabinets and alphabetized her herbs and spices. This baby better get here before I'm forced to start on the medicine cabinet.