Yesterday, a couple of cousins from out of town visited my mother in law. One brought with her her young daughter and her month old baby boy.
My mother in law, who is in her late 80's, was so happy to have these two children in the house.
My son came over for dinner. Over sandwiches and salads, the "Grandparent" discussion commenced.
You know the one, if you are of certain ages.
I have not been in a hurry to be a grandmother. My mid-20's son (I only have one child) is not in a committed relationship, so the discussion doesn't happen all that much. But I know two things. One is that my son loves children. And the other thing is, I remember when my Dad burned with Grandparent fever. (Sadly, he didn't live to see his grandson.)
For me, the urge does not burn. Not yet, anyway. All around me, people I know are becoming grandparents. I work closely with someone who has TWO pregnant daughters right now. They are on opposite coasts (of the United States), and are due at somewhat the same time, and I don't envy her the travel. But it is nice to think about.
I don't dread being called "Grandma". Or "Nana" or anything like that. Not at all.
Around me, people are retiring because they have become grandparents. I am not ready for that, either.
But I was ready for this.
Little J. was in his fussy part of the day. And, when I held him, he cried for a couple of minutes. But I rubbed him like a grandmother, and felt love in my heart.
And you know what?
He stopped crying, and smiled at me.
Watch out, world.