Hello everyone. Thank you for clicking by. Yesterday I became an aunt! Her name is Lucille Mae (Lucy Mae), and she arrived at exactly 4:27 p.m. on September 15th.
I don't think I will ever forget that moment. I was sitting in the hospital, waiting like the rest of the family members (munching on some candy corn because I was hungry), and then the "Baby Tone" played over the speakers. We all froze.
Joy and excitement took my breath away, and the silence in the waiting room was enough to tell me that it had done the same to everyone else. The silence was shattered by the intake of our combined breaths and as one, we stood up and made our way on trembling knees to the nurse station.
It's funny now that I look back, but the nurses gave each other knowing looks and I could almost swear that I saw them restraining laughter. I guess I couldn't blame them if they had laughed. The looks on our faces--mine especially since I'm known for wacky faces--were priceless. We looked like we'd just walked into Wonka's Factory and were beholding the candy world with fresh eyes.
Yesterday, only forty minutes after she'd been born, I got to hold a "fresh" baby for the first time. She was so small and wrinkly, but her eyes--oh her eyes!--were wide and alert, and even though I know from science class that newborns can't see that well when they are born, I imagined that we shared a glance of understanding.
I didn't cry. That much I managed to do. A few of the others, especially the great-grands, got teary and had to wipe away those runaway drops. I just didn't want her first somewhat-unformed perception of me to be of a weeper. Although that's probably just my weird way of thinking kicking into gear.
A baby. I held a baby, and I'm going to get to watch her grow up and even contribute to her raising. Is that crazy? How could this happen? I don't know what I want to teach her first. I've already decided I'm going to read to her every chance I get, and the first book is going to be
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. I'd like to see them try and stop me.
I've also determined that I won't follow in my grandmothers's footsteps and put coffee in her bottle, even if she asks for it. It's my addiction, but I'm not going to pass it on.
I feel like I need to make a list. Yes. I think a list sounds perfect for today.
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"Don't bother me. I'm writing a masterpiece.
You may change me later." |
Observations from Two Days as an Aunt:
1. Babies poop, but they also make funny faces and who doesn't like those?
2. In case the baby does poop while you're holding her, you can always hand her to her daddy.
3. Babies mean power. If you have a baby and you're sitting down, you can get anyone to do anything for you so you don't have to get up.
4. If you have a baby, people bring you food whenever you want it, because: you have a baby.
5. The waiting room in the maternity ward only shows PBS Kids on its TV, so bring a book if you don't like Barney.
6. Sometimes babies don't like to come out of the womb, so waiting may take many hours. Bring snacks. The vending machines are expensive.
7. If you have a Shakespeare class on a Friday, but you don't want to go, going to see your niece is a good "excuse" to your conscience for skipping.
8. Babies don't care if you haven't put any makeup on. They don't know anything yet!
9. If you walk into a room that has a baby as its occupant, you're automatically guaranteed to hear people make funny noises and faces, and that can be amusing.
10. Women who just gave birth like froyo, so you have an excuse to get frozen yogurt for lunch and dinner.
Basically, newborn babies don't do very much but they look like little mini-Yodas, so that makes them AWESOME in my book. Until next time...