I'll see your picture of you hanging out with my mom, Andrew, and raise you this:
That's right. Grandma's here. She flew in late last night and we couldn't be happier.
Even though I think we've hit a pretty sweet spot with this parenting gig—where Rachel and Miriam are old enough to actually be helpful so when Daddy's gone I don't feel too overwhelmed and (not to jinx anything) Zoë has, just this week, begun to accept bedtime as truth (which is so blissful because imagine, if you will, the torture of going nearly 18 months (that's a year and a half) of never knowing when bedtime was coming, if ever, because your child refused to believe it was a thing)—it's nice to have some back-up. The fact that it comes in the form of Andrew's mom is definitely an added bonus.
This morning Zoë woke up while I was in the shower, but instead of pounding on the bathroom door and screaming (as she'd ordinarily do) she wandered off to the kitchen to investigate the voices she heard there. When she found out it was Grandma in the kitchen instead of Mommy she cowered by the couch (until I got out of the shower; seriously). Benjamin tried to convince her that everything was fine.
"It's okay, Zoë," he said soothingly. "This is my favourite person!"
Grandma is definitely one of our favourite people and we're so glad she's here to visit (and help me maintain my sanity while Andrew is gone).
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