Waiting For A Baby

Now that I'm not just a farm blog, but an anything blog I have this new sense of freedom to talk about anything and everything which in turn leads me to the need to blog about everything all the time, to the point that I've even had to start a list of things that I want to talk about since there are so many and they come and go so fast in my brain that they'll fall out if I don't write them down somewhere, so I have a notes section on my phone where I keep track.

Today

My older sister's oldest daughter F is expecting her first baby ANY day now and I am DYING I am so excited! My sister J is in Colorado with F doing the countdown and F is still climbing mountains and carrying on like a super woman and I'm here crocheting and baking and eating and sleeping like I'm the one expecting. In my family, being the last one out of the womb definitely left me with a more lackadaisical outlook on life. My sisters take life very seriously and I'm more of a baloney (bologna?) sandwich kind of gal and that applies to everything from hair color to husbands, when I'm over it, I'm over it. On the other hand, they are both starters and finishers, one of them even more so than the other if that's even possible. If it's broke they fix it, if it's good they make it better and if it's great they stick with it and keep it going. So, it's no surprise that their children have followed in those footsteps and will no doubt raise children of their own like that. For instance, from the looks of things, I would estimate that F has gained somewhere around twelve ounces of body fat during her pregnancy and will probably jog home from the hospital to lose the baby weight. I, on the other hand gained the weight equal to that of a 1973 Volkswagen Beetle and am still fighting the good fight to work it off sixteen years later. I wore maternity underpants until Wyatt was three.

I think F's baby will probably learn sign language (In three languages) and be potty trained by twelve months, whereas Wyatt spoke Teletubby until he was four and then, once he had somewhat mastered the english language, began potty training by peeing off the porch. Don't get me wrong, my children are amazing people, they just caught a different bus. On the bright side though, I have some great stories to tell about them that will have you on the edge of your seat, some real nail biters.

Back to F. This will be my first grandniecechild and maybe what I'm most excited about, other than the whole "new life, new love" part is the part where my sister is going to be a grandmother. From now on she will wear the badge of age. Grammy, or whatever they call her, will be seated at the old lady table with me and even though she will for sure be the hot one and the one who doesn't look like a granny, she will still have to sit at that table with me, and how we got from the new mother chair to the grandma table SO fast is beyond me. I think we were pushed. Even though we have kids in their thirties, we still both have kids in their teens, so will someone please explain to me how that happens when you're not a Duggar.

But this is about F and now my eyes are getting soggy and I can't see very well so I'm going to say this quick. You are an amazing, smart, beautiful, fun and loving woman. I am so proud of you, and while I still have the chance to tell you as my first little niece with the giant head and shiny shoes, I want to say that I love you to the stars and moon, and then I want to be the first to tell you as a new mother how lucky this baby will always be to have you as a mother and your husband as a father. Enjoy every new moment and smell your baby's head a lot and then remember that smell every time you get angry because they broke your favorite whatever or ate cat poop at the beach. Those are all little things and love is a big thing and so long as you remember that you can handle almost anything. You'll still cry in the corner drinking gin every now and again, and that's ok too.

And now, I have to go, because the little bundle of love who calls me Tranny just left from his second sleepover this week and I have to pick Legos and noodles out of the rug while remembering the smell of his head.