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As an aspiring writer, I blog about whatever happens to move me at the moment -- though some posts contain serious content, my big-picture goal is to bring a little humor into an often humorless world! Welcome, y'all, and make yourself at home! Please make sure you update your bookmarks!

When you are offended at any man's fault, turn to yourself and study your own failings. Then you will forget your anger...Epictetus

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Double Trouble

I've just returned from a double baby shower -- no, not one woman having twins, but two sisters, expecting babies (and both girls) within a week of each other. And, no, they didn't plan it that way -- it was just a fortunate happenstance and I imagine those two little girls will grow up not only as cousins but as best friends.

The thing is, though, this reminds me that my time is coming. My eldest has been married a year (June 14 -- anybody who's been reading this blog for awhile probably saw my wedding posts) and I'm figuring within a couple of years, we'll be getting that call ourselves.

Right now, I can't say I'm ready -- but will I ever really be?

It worries me sometimes because I'm not a baby person. Never have been. I don't go all squishy when someone walks in a room with a baby. I don't have any desire to hold every infant I see. If I'm in a restaurant near someone with a baby, I tend to want to move. And a movie? Forget it. I'm not cold-hearted witch but I've just never had the huge maternal meltdown thing around babies. I've heard, though, that grandchildren make you act in ways you would have never expected. We shall see.

You may wonder how I was with my own children -- well, you'll have to ask them for the real answer but I can tell you I've never been a get-down-on-the-floor-and-play-all-day mother. I wasn't a "let's-go-bake-something mother. I was, however, the let's-read-a-book type. And I was a let's-get-even-more-pets mom. And I loved them -- so maybe they've turned out okay. Seriously, you'd have to ask them.

I'm still trying to figure out what I'll want my grandchildren to call me. Not Grandmother, not Grandma, not Granny, not Me-maw (however you spell that), not Nina or Gigi (yes, I've heard all of those). I'm seriously thinking just plain ol' Lynn will do. Or maybe Moogie, which is the Ferengi (Star Trek) word for mother. I suppose it will come to me when the time is right.

For now, though, I'll just bide my time. And hope that whatever I did wrong as a mother won't be revisted on the next generation.

Beyond that, it's a crapshoot.


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