The Waiting Game

Any news? That's the #1 question I'm asked these days. GrandBoy's not officially due until February 22, but he's dropped into position and could come any time now. Daughter says one of the benefits of being close to delivery is that everybody answers her phone calls on the first ring.

I'm hoping Baby Boy holds on until the afternoon of the 20th. That's the date of my plane ticket to Atlanta, and my pocketbook would appreciate not having to cough up the extra dough to change it. But I am ready to head South as soon as I get the call. I live in great hope that neither LaGuardia nor Atlanta airports are having weather issues when that call comes.

Ever hopeful that Daughter makes it to her next doctor's appointment on Tuesday the 16th, we should have more delivery option information after the doc sees her. Yes, she can go any time, but Mr. Liam may feel he needs to cook another week or so. Or he could be like his mama and just want to stay put for as long as possible before the Induction Police arrive. Just making the appointment to be induced was enough to let his mama know that the jig was up, and she had to come on out. She made her appearance two days before that appointment came to fruition. ("Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'. I'm comin'.")

My feeling is that GrandBoy just wants his GrandMary to save that extra flight-change money so that she can spend it on something cooler - like whatever shiny new thing catches his fancy. Maybe.

Till I get the call - that I'll answer on the first ring, from Daughter or Son-in-Law heading for the hospital - I'm playing the waiting game.