Yesterday was my daughter's baby shower and it went off without a hitch. There were about 65 people there and the food was good, the children adorable, the family in a good mood and the young friends of the expectant parents full of excitement. My daughter and her best friend, both very pregnant, sat together and opened Kris' gifts and looked like women....not the young girls I remember, but women in their mid twenties who are raising families or about to. When did that happen? The "kids" are now teens, the babies are rambunctious kids and their are new little lives that weren't here just a few months ago. My mom is near 80 and looking fabulous. My mother in law and her sister there too, all being the matriarchs of the family, and my husband and I were the proud grandparents, the "next generation"...no longer THE generation that was getting the attention. I was okay with it all. I had a wonderful time! Then we were back at my house and my daughter and I sat on the floor going through all the beautiful little pink clothes and baby gear and when I expressed regret that the baby would be born in North Carolina and I wouldn't see her much for the first eight weeks of her life, my daughter kindly put me in my place, telling me that I would have to stop whining about it and stop worrying about what I had here for the baby because....the baby isn't mine. What? Not mine? Yes. The truth is that this little life would go on just fine without me. She has her mommy, who will be a fabulous parent, and her daddy, who is learning about children and will rise to the challenge I am sure. But she isn't mine. It will be nice for me to have clothes and a crib here for her for her visits and for when I begin daycare in a few months and have her while her mom works. But I don't NEED those things...she isn't mine. I think that's probably a tough thing for most new grandmothers...particularly baby loving ones like me. I have always been the one to bring the babies into the world...to name them and make all the decisions about their pacifier styles, what types of bottles to use, what rules they will live by. But this time that is not my job. It is my job to abide by her mom's wishes and to love her and love her and love her some more. And I will. She is not mine and that is hard. She will not be in my life everyday when she is first born. And that is hard. But she will be a huge part of my life from minute one, with a special place in my heart all her own and soon, before she is more than a few months old, she will spending her days here with her Nana and I'll get to be that huge part of her life I crave to be. And that's good.
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