Waiting for Wheels

Sometime in the next few days, there will be a bellowing from tiny lungs at the Ottawa Hospital, heralding the arrival of our newest family member.

Like her father before her, little Wheels seems in no hurry to take her first breath. Yesterday was her formal due date but there are no signs of imminent expulsion. There's talk of induction.

We shall see.

Meh, says, Wheels. Why the hurry? It's friggin' cold outside.

Are we ready for her?

Yes. And no.

The nursery has been imagined with loving care by Mama Shyla who started nesting just days after she tested positive for new life. There are so many Winnie the Pooh accessories, it's starting to look like the Hundred Acre Woods down there.

I hope Wheels isn't afraid of bears and donkeys.

There are boxes of diapers, wipes and other supplies piled up in the hallway, Nick's way of forward planning. If there's a snowstorm or tsunami, he's set.

Wheels has enough baby togs to outfit entire African nations, in pinks and yellows, blues and purples. It's becoming pretty clear that we're going to need to finally break down and buy a washer and dryer, otherwise we'll be buying the nice Guyanese laundromat lady a new house.

There is premium cable on the tube, our gift to the parents for those long nights of breast feeding and colic. Man, I wish I had had premium cable when the boys were born. Those frigid nights in Regina were killers.

I've agreed to start making meals for all of us, in an effort to keep costs down. As a single mom, I learned the craft of spinning leftover chicken five different ways and I have no trouble making a vat of vegetable soup for five bucks.

The kids haven't quite learn the tricks of the grocery shop, so I plan on giving them a schooling. We'll be couponing and grocery store trolling once a week to get the best deals.

It'll be like orienteering.

I'm excited. There is nothing I love more than grocery shopping and finding ways to pick Galen Weston's pocket on the dollar days.

This is my way of helping without interfering.

I know myself well. I can be a nosy, know-it-all pest and I'm resisting it.

My aim is to let the baby parents fly solo in caring for little Wheels in their cute little lair in the basement. But I'm sure I'll be spending a lot of time standing ready aye ready on the steps, just in case.

It's how I roll.

We finally got paid yesterday on a government contract -- the one that was supposed to pay out two weeks before Christmas -- so Scott and I are buying the couple a Panasonic HD Pocket Camcorder to record the blessed event. I was very sad to have no money at Christmas for presents, but I'm excited that we can buy the same stuff for half price this week.

Maybe God had a plan for us after all.

My biggest concern, quite obviously, is that the birth go smoothly and that little Wheels is a healthy little princess. And for that, I will bend a knee and say a prayer.

It's a cliche, I know, but I've been on the other end of an infant health scare and I hope Nick and Shyla will be blessed with an uncomplicated birth.

Oh, there goes the phone. Time to pick them up at the baby doctor.

Tick, tick, tick.

Can't wait until Wheels becomes Skylar.

There, I said it.