Journal of a Living Lady #248
Nancy White Kelly
Knowing how much grandparents love to brag about their grandkids, my original thought was to take a higher road in this column. Spare the details of every move our new grandson makes. Write only occasionally about his major milestones. Yet, according to emails and recent personal encounters with readers, I have come to believe that many of you really WANT to know about Micah.
For years Buddy and I have listened to grandparent stories and secretly vowed that when our day came, we wouldn’t bore our friends. Especially would we not boast that our grandchild was the smartest, handsomest, most talented or athletic child on earth. But, we are grandparents now and it is hard to keep that noble inner promise.
Micah was born to son Charlie and his wife, Tori, in late February. He came about 3 weeks early. Within days, a crisis occurred sending us all to the hospital. Micah was diagnosed with a tiny hole in his heart. He is being closely monitored, but so far all is well.
Micah is 3 months old now. We see him at least twice a
month. If there is a positive about my cancer treatments in
Like most infants, he changes almost weekly. Sometimes he looks like his dad. At other times he looks like his mom. And, golly by molly, sometimes he looks like me. His big blue eyes stare with intense seriousness. Then his tiny mouth metamorphoses into a silly little grin that tells you not to take life too seriously.
Micah is well-fed, continually diapered and adequately entertained. Mom and dad were wise to quickly move him to his own crib for sleeping. Once you start putting a baby in the parent’s bed at night for the sake of a few minutes peace, a pattern starts which is impossible to undo without psychologically un-gluing all parties involved.
But the caveat is that his Micah’s parents have a monitoring system that amplifies every noise that precious baby makes when he is out of their sight. This includes grunts and brief moments of gas passing. I think most of us would prefer not to have our milk burps converted to deep bass and then broadcast in stereo sound.
Someday the precocious Micah Walter Kelly may write an elegant, convincing argument for basic privacy, but for now he must suffer indignities for the sake of people who love him most.
