Most of you know this, but for those of you who don't -- my sister is expecting.
And while I am very, very, very excited, I can't help but be feel a little nostalgic as the days draw nearer. I've been thinking a lot about our childhood and how it felt to see her for the first time. Now, I'm anticipating seeing my nephew for the first time. This will be a little different that when I first met Fwinney. No, this time Daddy and I are flying up to Virginia to visit the baby after she's given birth. And though I know that's the safe, smart plan I am fighting the urge to GO SEE HER RIGHT NOW, DAMN IT.
I think its because -- as far as my memory is concerned -- that my life really only began the day Fwinney was born. I was four years old and I couldn't have been happier that Mama was having ME a baby. My first memory is of my daddy holding me up to look through the glass window of the hospital nursery. He was young, tall and handsome. Moments earlier he'd given me a balloon and tied it around my wrist.
I can remember exactly how those babies looked lined up in front of the window. There were two rows of four, each sporting pink or blue bedding depending on the sex. Behind the bassinets, nurses buzzed around filling out charts and fiddling with babies.
"Which one is mine?" I asked him. Not ours. Or Mama's. MINE. WHICH ONE IS MINE.
Daddy smiled as he held me around the waist. With his free hand he point to a baby right in front. Fwinney was wrapped tightly in a blanket and appeared to be sleeping. She looked like a butterfly in a cocoon with only her face showing. She reminded me of my Gloworm doll.
"What do you think?" he asked.
Before I could answer him, the cocoon began to wiggle. I watched Fwinney stretch her little arms and legs against the swaddling. She seemed restless or anxious, like she had better things to do than be put on display, wrapped tightly in a blanket. With a matter of seconds, the tiny creature had managed to free her little arms and kick her legs from blanket. I thought she looked like she was preparing to scream or cry as she flailed her tiny arms and legs. But the baby remained silent as she worked her limbs feverishly. She stretched her arms and legs out as far as they could possibly go and let out a giant yawn. Then she stilled, stretched out to an incredible length for such a tiny baby and transformed into a butterfly, long and pink and full of graceful energy.
"Well," Daddy asked. "What do you think about your sister?"
"She's got big cheeks and she sure is long," I said.
Daddy laughed.
"I like her a lot. She's pretty."
And that was my first memory.
By the way, I was totally right about the cheeks and her length. Her little chubby face earned her the nickname Cheeky Monkey. And it wasn't long before my baby sister was taller than me. She has our mother's dancing legs -- long and slinky. Do I even have to say that I DO NOT?
Readers, in but two weeks my Fwinney will become a mama. I can't believe my baby sister is having a baby, but I have no doubt that she will be so good at being a mother. There are things in this world that we are born to do. I am crafty, straight forward and loyal, but I'm not the natural nurturer my sister is. No. Fwinney is going to be very good at this because she's good at everything she does. This will be no exception.
Fwinney, I can't wait to meet by nephew. I fully anticipate the giant cheeks and long, long legs.
And while I am very, very, very excited, I can't help but be feel a little nostalgic as the days draw nearer. I've been thinking a lot about our childhood and how it felt to see her for the first time. Now, I'm anticipating seeing my nephew for the first time. This will be a little different that when I first met Fwinney. No, this time Daddy and I are flying up to Virginia to visit the baby after she's given birth. And though I know that's the safe, smart plan I am fighting the urge to GO SEE HER RIGHT NOW, DAMN IT.
I think its because -- as far as my memory is concerned -- that my life really only began the day Fwinney was born. I was four years old and I couldn't have been happier that Mama was having ME a baby. My first memory is of my daddy holding me up to look through the glass window of the hospital nursery. He was young, tall and handsome. Moments earlier he'd given me a balloon and tied it around my wrist.
I can remember exactly how those babies looked lined up in front of the window. There were two rows of four, each sporting pink or blue bedding depending on the sex. Behind the bassinets, nurses buzzed around filling out charts and fiddling with babies.
"Which one is mine?" I asked him. Not ours. Or Mama's. MINE. WHICH ONE IS MINE.
Daddy smiled as he held me around the waist. With his free hand he point to a baby right in front. Fwinney was wrapped tightly in a blanket and appeared to be sleeping. She looked like a butterfly in a cocoon with only her face showing. She reminded me of my Gloworm doll.
"What do you think?" he asked.
Before I could answer him, the cocoon began to wiggle. I watched Fwinney stretch her little arms and legs against the swaddling. She seemed restless or anxious, like she had better things to do than be put on display, wrapped tightly in a blanket. With a matter of seconds, the tiny creature had managed to free her little arms and kick her legs from blanket. I thought she looked like she was preparing to scream or cry as she flailed her tiny arms and legs. But the baby remained silent as she worked her limbs feverishly. She stretched her arms and legs out as far as they could possibly go and let out a giant yawn. Then she stilled, stretched out to an incredible length for such a tiny baby and transformed into a butterfly, long and pink and full of graceful energy.
"Well," Daddy asked. "What do you think about your sister?"
"She's got big cheeks and she sure is long," I said.
Daddy laughed.
"I like her a lot. She's pretty."
And that was my first memory.
By the way, I was totally right about the cheeks and her length. Her little chubby face earned her the nickname Cheeky Monkey. And it wasn't long before my baby sister was taller than me. She has our mother's dancing legs -- long and slinky. Do I even have to say that I DO NOT?
Readers, in but two weeks my Fwinney will become a mama. I can't believe my baby sister is having a baby, but I have no doubt that she will be so good at being a mother. There are things in this world that we are born to do. I am crafty, straight forward and loyal, but I'm not the natural nurturer my sister is. No. Fwinney is going to be very good at this because she's good at everything she does. This will be no exception.
Fwinney, I can't wait to meet by nephew. I fully anticipate the giant cheeks and long, long legs.
--
Okay, so, yeah. That's me holding my baby sister (who is now pregnant!) Mad props to my mother letting me hold the baby in my lap while I drove around in my Flinstone-powered convertible.
3 comments:
I really can't believe that the baby will be here in two weeks. The time has really flown by. Thank you for the blog. I miss you and cant wait to see you guys. Love you lots, Cheeky Monkey
Time does fly. Seems like the other day we were in high school and they were still little kids (at least to us.
Congrats, C! Make sure you post lots of pics for those of us who can't travel to see ya!
I can't wait to see him! I had my first dream about what he would look like last night. He was three and had light hair and cute little cheeks. He was wearing overalls. Seems like yesterday we were all kids ourselves. H.
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