We hosted a baby shower on Sunday afternoon for my cousin’s daughter Elise who is pregnant with her first baby. Elise is the first of all of my cousins kids to have a baby. This whole sort of journey to the next generation thing is very exciting to me. Elise’s baby will make my grandma (who is still alive at 96) a great, great grandmother.
Once, several years ago, when I was talking to my grandma about how many great grandchildren she had I asked her if she ever imagined living to see 20 great grandchildren. She said she never even imagined living long enough to see one great grand child. Now, she will become a great, great grandmother.
As my cousin’s daughter was leaving the shower with her husband and her cute little first-time mom baby bump, she turned back and said, “I am sure I will be calling you all the time to ask, ‘is this normal?’ for a boy.”
I shouted back, “Don’t call me–I have no idea what’s normal for a boy! There is nothing normal in my household.”
This morning when I was taking Andy to school and suggested he use a Kleenex to blow his stuffy nose instead of sniffing it all in so he can spit a hocker out the window, he pointed to the Kleenex box to show me what someone had drawn on it.
At that moment, I was never more sure of myself than I was in telling Elise I have no idea what normal is. Clearly, it doesn’t live here.