No photos yet - I've left my camera at my daughter's house - but the latest granddaughter has made her entrance. The Sprout was born October 2 at 2:35 a.m. She weighed over 8 lbs and has enough black, wavy hair to run a brush through. She is, of course, as cute as a bug's ear. A little cursory research indicates that babies look adorable to adults as a result of genetic programming; a little natural incentive to insure we take care of the infant. Big eyes, button noses, rosebud mouths - they'll get us every time.
I've been spending at least three days a week at the Bean's house tending to her while her parents worked. I'll continue the practice during my daughter's maternity leave, establishing a routine to which the Bean, and now the Sprout, can grow accustomed. It's grandmother heaven, I tell you. There's never a dull moment what with playing with blocks and clay and dolls and trucks (the Bean is well-rounded already), changing diapers, tying bibs, cleaning up mealtime spills, and enforcing nap time, during which I run about picking up toys, doing laundry, preparing supper and collapsing for an hour myself on the long, low sofa. Added to all that now will be the feeding and cuddling of a newborn. I will surface into the calm, quiet world of my cottage at the end of each week, sink into the comfort of my own mattress, immerse myself in books and long walks, and recharge for the middle of the coming week.(Anyone whose retirement is dull should seriously consider becoming a grandparent!)
All of us will gather this weekend to celebrate the Sprout's birth and the Bean's second birthday. There will be cake and ice cream and presents and laughter. And love, lots of baby snuggling, congratulatory hugging, cheek kissing, eye sparkling love.