Ten Years-Old

On the surface, not much had changed since the friends met ten years ago. They still spoke of family and work, about books and television, about dorms and those who dwelt in them, about being geeky awkward and how maybe that was something to be celebrated. Ten years was enough to kick some habits, alter some perspectives, walk down some aisles, earn some diplomas, pop out a baby. But at ground level, what was most evident is what remained the same. Jeans and t-shirts and laughter and muffins. ***

Aunties Haddy and Chrisie visited Baby Land today. It was like a hot pot of the best tea that stayed warm all day. I was so sad to see them go. It's not everyday I get to introduce my favorite baby girl to a couple of my favorite college girls - both of whom I met when I visited Small Liberal Arts College on a Hill as a wee senior in high school (who had never seen AOL Instant Messenger before). I'm proud to be friends with these delightful and wise women, and also to have learned, in the course of ten years, how to use the internet. It's very helpful for keeping in touch with my dear friends.

Countless Reasons

There are many good reasons to have children such as tax breaks and excuses to catch unnatural highs from Baby Magic lotion all day. There are also the valid reasons of wanting to spread one's seed, to succeed genetically, to see just exactly HOW recessive redheadedness and attached earlobes really are in your lineage. Then there's the opportunity to implicitly tell your parent(s) that you had sex and that life is going to be a whole lot different for a lot of people because of it. And let's not forget the big honking good reason of becoming the parent one swore she'd never become, the parent who parented her. Oh, and the coupons! Do not forget the coupons. Spawn a chile and your mailbox will be chock full o' Enfamil savings. Excellent reason to procreate. One reason to have children which we had not previously considered (prior to conception) was the chance that our neighbor/friend Shannimal might be more inclined to stop by on a weeknight and gift us with her jovial company, a Bob Marley "One Love" onesie AND a stuffed octopus for tormenting decorating our wee one.

Lest any of our conscientious readers be riding the fence as to whether or not the pros outweighed the cons in popping one out, we simply did not want any of you to omit this extremely important but highly overlooked "pro."

As well as that little postscript about having one's heart swell each time she beholds that little face, a face that angels must have painted on with their eyelashes, a face that seems to emote ten thousand fascinating things to her at once, which may take her entire parenting life to decode.

Granny on Board

Since last June when we told my mother (via an "I Love Grandma" bib) she was going to be a granny, she has been riding the crest of a tall wave of glee. I do not think we have had an argument, or even an argumentito in nine months. We are both, as women, my mother and I, very hard on ourselves. Therefore, we tend to be hard on other people - especially ones we love. Yet, it seems as though we've laid aside our bag of hammers and nails to enjoy the experience of expecting this wee one. Now that Pee Wee Lee has arrived, my mother's phonecalls have increased from once a week to once a day. I swear her voice has raised one octave. She tells my husband that she loves him, she tells me how excited she is to come and stay with us and lose sleep. She is out of her skull. She's a new grandmother.

She'll be making her way to Boston this afternoon. Someone, if you see her, please ask her where she is going. She will be combusting inside to tell you that she is going to visit her new grandbaby.