The Grand Leavitts

Dear Baby,

Although I am probably giving you your story in excruciating detail, I would like to think that maybe someday you will appreciate it. At least, I enjoy writing it. Anyway, I have more to say about Winter Storm Jonas.

The Monday after the storm, the snow plow had yet to come. Mind you, there was one time on Sunday that a tiny itsy bity little Bobcat came and attempted to plow 2 feet of snow with its tiny bucket, but I do not deem that worth of being called “the snow plow.” Your father was able to get out of the driveway in his Chevy Colorado, but I was stuck at home. Your Uncle Eli was living with us at the time, and although he claims that he will still be living with us when you arrive (he thinks he is going to be the nanny), he will not. But he will be close by. Anyway, he was stuck at home too as our cars were decidedly NOT able to conquer 1.5 feet of snow (the bobcat had managed to skim a little bit off the top). Between us we had a 2014 Acura ILX and a 7 Series BMW. Not snow cars.

Anyway, the two of us were at home, and your father went to work. Uncle Eli did not yet know about you. Soon after your father left (after some back and forth snow maneuvering out the driveway), I decided I couldn’t wait any longer and had to tell your grandmother (my mother) about you.

Now, I say “your grandmother” because it has not yet been determined what you are going to call her. She prefers the name “Grand,” but myself and your uncles much prefer “Mammy,” which is the grandmotherly name assumed by your great grandmother, Alberta Morris. Now, I know I am digressing a bit here, but it is necessary to give you some background on Mammy. She is a spitfire. She will say anything and everything inappropriate that can (and does) come to her mind, and lives in such a state of constant negativity that it is actually comical and endearing to those who know and love her. She has professed her desire to be dead on multiple occasions, but in the family we believe that her decades of chain smoking have somehow preserved her, and that she will, in fact, live to be at least 100. I can only hope that she does, because I know you will enjoy her as much as the rest of us. She currently lives with your grandmother Tracy and grandfather Steve in Florida, and they have quite the household between the three of them, and your grandfather’s business partner, and dear family friend, Jimmy. If anything is deserving of a reality TV show, it is this house, and Mammy would play a starring role.

Anyway, I am way off track. My point is that your grandmother Tracy does NOT in any way, shape or form want to be called “Mammy” after her Debby Downer mother, and that makes your Uncle Ben, Uncle Eli, and I just love the idea that much more.

But whatever your Grandmother Tracy’s final name is when you come along, this is the day that I told her about you.

I called her right after your father maneuvered out of the driveway. It is unfortunate that this news had to be delivered over phone, and not in person, but as it was unclear the next time your father and I would make it to Florida, it had to be done. I needed to talk to someone who had done this before. So I called, and we chatted for a little bit before I told her, “So, Tony and I got some news this weekend. We’re going to have a baby…” It still seemed weird to say, but slightly less frightening than when I told your father. It was slowly becoming a little more natural.

Your grandmother was, of course, elated. I knew that she had wanted this for longer than she made me aware of, and we probably talked for two hours after that, rehashing everything I had been lying awake thinking about for the past couple of nights. We talked about fun topics such as names, scarier topics and concerns, future topics that your father and I hadn’t even talked about yet, and she told me that I absolutely had to tell your Grandpa Steve about you. I was going to wait to tell him in person, but your grandmother insisted that she could not be the only one to know in her house. Understanding this feeling, I agreed to call him later in the day.

With my mind spinning in a million different directions, I had to turn my attention to a couple of household matters. First, the extreme snow had piled up on the roof, and was causing the ceiling to leak where the old part of the house meets the addition. As I said, at this point Uncle Eli was living with us in the bedroom next to yours. So as soon as he got out of bed, I gave him a shovel and sent him out your window to shovel the roof.

Uncle Eli halfway in your bedroom window.
I promise it will look much nicer when you come along.

Shovel, he did. He spent hours on the roof, and I would go out and check on him every so often by sticking my head out the window. Fortunately, the snow had stopped and it was a beautiful day. After he shoveled the roof, we proceeded to shovel the sidewalk, a never-ending feat that we had already done at least four times throughout the storm. I helped him, but he was clearly doing the brunt of the labor, and I know he felt that I was slacking on him a bit. He didn’t yet know about you, and I was being very careful to protect you.

I wanted to give you this background because I consider it a bit of a funny story. We finished shoveling, pretty proud of ourselves, and decided to treat ourselves to lunch. We walked down the street to the Silver Diner, had a nice lunch, and headed back to the house to enjoy the day off after three days of shoveling snow. When we turned the corner onto Edgewood Street, our first feelings were feelings of joy. Alas! The plow had finally come through and the road was clear! However, as we neared the house an unfortunate reality set in. In the place of all of our shoveling, was a very large snow bank piled up right there on the sidewalk. We kind of looked at each other, and had to laugh because really what else could you do at that point? The coveted plow we had been hoping for had just ruined a day’s work in one swift motion. Curse Arlington County and their sad knowledge of how to handle winter weather!

We got our shovels, got back in our groove, and once again, shoveled until we hit concrete.

Now, back to you. When your father got home, Uncle Eli and I recounted our trials and tribulations of the day, and then I decided it was time to call your grandfather Steve and make him aware of you. Your father was sitting next to me when I called. Grandpa Steve was not on speaker phone. I told him the same thing that I said to your grandmother. “So, Tony and I got some news this weekend. We are going to have a baby…”

Immediately, I hear one of the loudest, girliest screams ever to come out of a grown man’s mouth. Your father could hear the scream loud and clear through the phone, and started laughing uncontrollably. I’m pretty sure the next door neighbors could hear it. Probably every person from Virginia to Florida could hear it.

Needless to say, your grandfather was (and is) very excited about you. Though he has his construction business and has been an entrepreneur all his adult life, really he is just a blubbering softy at heart. I like to say that he is more maternal than any woman I know. Especially for you. This scream heard round the world is a testament to that. If only I had recorded the phone conversation. 

And so, with a LOT of context and information about that day, that is how your Grandmother and Grandfather Leavitt came to know that you were coming to us.

Love,

Mom

Uncle Eli, plugging away at the roof to stop the leak. We can't have any household issues when you come along!

The before and after of his efforts. Just keep shoveling.

In the lower picture, you will see the "before" of Edgewood Street.
In the upper picture, you will see the "after."
Please note that the left side of the upper photo is where the sidewalk used to be.
Of course the weekend I find out I'm pregnant I have to shovel a snow bank.
I know you're going to make me work for you. And I will do it.