My sister was there with her 6 week old Victoria. Can you say cute?
But you know what's almost cuter than a cute baby? A man holding and burping a cute baby.
My man happens to be more of a baby hog than me. At church, he'll turn around to our friends sitting behind us, and offer to hold their baby. He cuddles and coos. So I couldn't wait to see him with Victoria. Nevermind that we had words for each other on the way to my parents. I still conjured up fond feelings for my baby doting husband. :)
My dad and his three granddaughters. They're cute too.
When we were done with the cake,
and I'd found the right ratio of coffee and creamer and sugar,
We sat down by the fire and chatted.
It's nice to go home. I relax. My husband calls it reverting. Maybe he's right. Maybe I revert to being 17. I let my mom take care of me and my kids. But it's nice.
Sara admitted something to me recently. Now that she's a mom, she understands why I come to mom and dad's and revert; why all those years I would come and lie on the couch and do nothing. I was tired, and now she's tired and comes to take a break too. And it's nice. Nice to take a break. And nice to be understood.
So thanks, mom. For letting us come and rest, for offering us coffee or tea, or fruit shakes or pancakes or leftovers. Thanks for picking up legos and dress-ups and crumbs. For changing diapers on your daughters' daughters.
Now that my kids are older, there are more arms to go around. More hands to change diapers or pick up toys. More help to give Sara a break. And that's nice for Mom. Maybe she'll get a break now, too.