My nephew Luke, my middle sister’s miracle baby, is due on Tuesday. I can’t wait to meet him, to hold him, to smell that little baby smell and kiss his sweet head. But alas, he seems to be pretty cozy in his current surroundings, and so we continue to wait for his big debut. In the meantime, you can bet that I’m carrying around my cell phone, ready for the call, anxious to take myself and my yo-yo sewing kit to sit and wait some more in the hospital’s waiting room.
And stalk the floors looking for marketing collateral so I can gather ideas.
Oh wait, I would never do that.
While we’ve been so busy waiting, we’ve kept ourselves occupied with many other worthwhile endeavors.
Like not eating bread or sweets. That takes up a lot of time and mental energy. But I’m proud to report that I’ve made it six meals without any mishaps, and I haven’t killed anybody yet. Or thrown anything. But I will probably dream about cinnamon rolls tonight when I go to bed. Cinnamon rolls and french toast drizzled in syrup and powdered sugar.
Oh my, there I go again.
Last weekend we went to a graduation party for the son of one of our favorite ESL students from West Africa – Togo to be exact. We’ve known my student’s son for a year now and he’s an absolute delight – he wants to be a doctor and I am confident that if that’s what he chooses to do, he’ll be a darn good one.
The highlight of the party, besides seeing his mama all dolled up, was two of his African cousins, ages 4 and 8, dressed in their biggest party dresses, who went up to me all wide-eyed and cute and said, “We love your hair!” in a way only a 4-year-old can do. My heart melted and I’ve since decided that when we adopt, we may need a little girl from Togo. Heck, I’ll take a little girl from just about anywhere, actually. The more people I meet from far off places, the more I just love people.
We also hit up an engagement party for one of our other friends, spent the day at the pool, took our Nigerian friend to a family dinner at Grease Monkey
(best burgers in town, I assure you), took an incredibly long Sunday nap, and hosted another family dinner at our house.
Speaking of days at the pool – I broke down and bought a new swimsuit. At the first store I went to, I tried on exactly one suit, loved it, paid for it, and was gone within 10 minutes. I hate shopping for swimsuits (and jeans) so this “rip off the bandaid” approach was the least painful way to do it. I found one that’s pink and ruffled and covers up a few of my least favorite places.
I hope I don’t have to do that again for another four years, which is how long it’s been since I purchased my last one. Or by that time I’ll find a body double who can shop for me and save me the mental anguish.
In the meantime, we’re all killing time until we can hold that sweet Luke. Say a little prayer for my sister as she lets him cook a little longer. She’s going to make a great mama, and I can’t wait to train him to call me Aunt B.