Neverending Story III: Rachel vs. the Baby

Remember this little nugget?

Falcor:  I like children.

Atreyu:  ...for breakfast??

Falcor:  BWAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA

Mmmmm... tastes like chicken.

The world welcomed another little peanut yesterday morning:  new little baby cousin L is finally here, almost two weeks late to his own birth and weighing in at ten-plus pounds.  Aw!!  Just like his cousin Rachel... almost 32 whole years ago.  (Seriously kid, I'm the oldest of the grandchildren.  I am the original "been there, done that" in this family.)

Just kidding (well, sort of).  He is, of course, amazing!  So sweet and cuddly-looking and with tons of personality already; not that I expected anything less.  I won't get to see him till this weekend, but you better believe I have a bunch of fun little baby gifts all lined up already; this one is my favorite.  Also briefly considered this one one for my aunt and uncle, until I realized they are way too mature for such a gift.  

I might get it for myself, though.  Can't hurt to be prepared. 

I've entered that life phase now where bachelorette parties and drunk dials have been replaced with baby showers and calls home to the sitter.  Tons of my friends have kids already, and the ones that don't are starting to think about it.  If you're one of them:  congratulations (and for the love of God, don't ever use the phrase "we're trying" in conversation with me)!

I looooooove being Aunt Rach to my girlfriends' babies and Fun Cousin Rach to the family munchkins.  Perfect example:  A has a 15-month-old daughter who is a RIOT.  Before I moved, one of my absolute favorite things to do was to fake a sick day to have a playdate with the two of them.  Yes, really!  We'd spend a few hours playing with her toys and reading books, and when Little C crashed for a nap, A and I would park ourselves on her big squashy couch to catch up over lunchtime martinis and terrible daytime TV.  (A is also the founder of our fabulous book club, which is a future blog entry in itself.  Just writing this makes me miss her!)

But I also love going home afterward, mixing a Bloody Mary and eating a balanced dinner of Cheez-Its and gummi worms. 

Plus, I think I should probably get married first.  Call me a traditionalist, but somehow I think my Irish/German Catholic grandmas would frown on a white dress if I provided my own ring bearer. 

There's the actual pregnancy and labor to consider.  Sure, TV and movies dramatize it, but if it weren't really going to include growling like a wild animal, they probably wouldn't call it childbearing.  

And then we have the genetic wild cards I'm going to be holding.  I'm not exactly an Amazon, but I'm tallish for a girl, and J, God love him, is a wee bit on the furry side.  Cute as we both may be, there is a distinct possibility that we could end up with a sasquatch for a child.  

 

"Mamaaa!!"

Honestly, I'm a tad relieved that there's a new baby in the family... takes any heat off my sister and me.  I'll get there eventually, but for now I'm perfectly content to be the aunt that Mommy and Daddy warn their kids about.  

"Aunt Rachel was kidding when she said you were adopted...

and for God's sake, don't drink out of her 'water bottle.'"