Baby (not) Mine

Hi! I've been a little busy since my last post. Sweet 16 birthday party, both MCG and my parents' health issues, end of summer, back to school, freelance work, pneumonia, ear troubles, goodbye to P&M ... well, that's definitely more than enough for me. Even if that's life as usual for many people.

(Did you happen see the Today Show last week about the 50-year-old mother of 11 kids -- 7 of whom are still at home -- who is going to Harvard to finish her college degree that she stopped working on when she started having kids? She lives in Oklahoma and commutes to Boston every weekend. AND she exercises! I say "Go, Girl! Good for you! But don't tell the rest of us slackers about it on national TV!")

So here's what's on my mind right now ...

On Saturday, I babysat for my neighbors' 1-month-old daughter and two-year-old son while they went to a movie. Right after I agreed to help out, a wave of panic washed over me. I can't take care of two little kids! I don't know how!

Yes, rational brain, I know. I have three kids of my own. With the unique challenge of two who came at the same time. And all three are managing very well, thank you. But ...

When I starting thinking about it, I realized I don't remember very much at all about when they were babies. Especially when GJG and GMG were babies. It's like the first two, three years of their lives are an absolute blur. I know I took care of them. I know they survived. I'm just not sure how it all happened.

I've always had the feeling that my kids do well because they're just great people, even despite me and my bumbling mommy ways. Thanks to their good genetics and very special souls -- neither of which I had anything to do with, really -- they are good kids. And I've always been so thankful they chose me to be their mother.

(That's not to say they don't DRIVE ME CRAZY at times, of course!)

Parenting has certainly been a learn-as-I-go journey. Or at least it feels that way MOST of the time. Although, I have to admit, there have been times when I did something that worked. And I had no idea where the idea came from but I was so thankful it did. (Like walking backward with Griffin into the classroom the first day of school when he was having a very hard time with the transition. But that's another story!)

So the thought of a morning with some very little guys who are not directly related to me was scary!

As it turned out, all went well with the babysitting. I'm happy to report we all survived! (And in full disclosure: MCG, GJG and GMG were there to help, too!)

The kids were wonderful. Easy to care for and fun to be with. It was actually heart-happy for me. (In full disclosure: It was for most of the time. Towards the end I started watching the clock, worried that it was lunchtime for the little guys and that I also had to go pick CAG up from a school thing.)

The other really important thing I realized from babysitting? I am SO over wanting babies. Of my own. Don't get me wrong. I still love holding babies. And kissing them and playing with them and giving them bottles. And if I have the opportunity to hold my grandniece when she arrives or another baby I know of who is on the way, as well as MCG's grandniece and grandnephew who are here already and cute as the dickens, I will be there with arms outstretched and a big smile on my face.

Then I'll happily hand baby back to mommy and daddy. That's a perfect fit for me right now. I DO like my life where it is!