That's BETTER, Emi-wee!!!

They say being a grandmother is the best thing ever. Nothing like it. Pure joy. And it IS. Except.

On Friday, Emily (or Emi-wee as Gracie calls her baby sister) developed a fever. On Saturday night Ashley called to relay their concern. We talked a bit and I suggested she check in with Emily's doctor, which they did. They got good advice, and that should have been that. But of course it wasn't - at least in Mimi's neck of the woods.

Because when you're a Mimi and you live 400 miles away from two of your precious little ones, there is that thing called WORRY. And worry I do. I am a champ. In fact, if they had a Worriers' Olympics, I'd be winning the gold medal. Every week or two!

Now I worry, not because Ashley and Jim aren't wonderful parents. They are. But I haven't yet learned how to be once removed when a little one in my familial line-up isn't 100% healthy. Sure, I worried about my girls, too - still do, of course, although I am secure in knowing they weathered the storms of childhood and came out the other side intact and thriving. But a 9-month old sweetheart that's one of the loves of MY little girl's life (because they are always your little ones even when they are almost 34 years old for Pete's sake!) is another thing entirely.

This morning (and believe me, I called early for this news) Ashley lit up my world when she told me Emily's fever had broken. Wow. It was windy, blustery and raining like gangbusters outside, but in my heart it was sunny.

Now I talked to myself a lot over the last couple of days: Emily is strong and healthy, babies are built to survive and throw off the bad stuff, etc. etc. etc. But H1N1 is a different kind of animal, so I worried. Because Gracie and Emily HAD their H1N1 flu shots, but it was from a batch that was recalled for being ineffective. Dang. That doesn't seem fair.

But, bottom line, little Emily is a fighter from the looks of it and whatever caused her to run a fever for the better part of three days, her body did what it was supposed to do and cast it off. Now. Maybe I will learn to do what I am supposed to do and quit with the world class worrying. Because being a grandparent is pure joy. Right? Well, yes,it is. Ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine, nine, nine...percent of the time. Except. There ARE those little exceptions!