…to the next generation

To my unknown grandchild, still in the womb:

I already love the thought of you. I love the way your mother told us about you: the card and the sonogram. I love that she was able to tell us in person. I love that your Daddy is excited. I love how impatient your mother is for signs of your presence besides nausea and digestive dysfunctions! I love how she’s waiting to put on weight! I love how much your mother has already shopped and researched online for toys, baby furniture, layette items and diapers. I love that she already is designing your nursery in her mind. I love her app that shows how big you are in terms of fruits or vegetables week by week while in utero.

What’s not to love?

It’s amazing how, when one already loves the people in their lives to the fullest extent, and  a new member joins the subset, there’s still more than enough love to go around. How can we love even more, when we already love to the max?

Your mom said your dad calls you Peanut. I’m afraid the name has stuck. At least for now. I’m sure it started with your mom’s damn vegetable app, and you’re already much bigger than a peanut, but — there you are. The Peanut. Your mom was Rocky, so I guess it’s only right that you should have a pre-birth name, too. It may stick after birth, too. I can hear me calling you Peanut with all the love and affection I have to offer. Your mom will, of course, detest it. But I kinda like it.

Now if only it would be as easy to know how we want you to name us! Gramma and Grampa are about as fancy as we’re likely to become. Your mom doesn’t like Nana. We don’t sound good as Gramma H and Grampa S. Yuck! Mama Heather just doesn’t cut it like your great-great-grandmother, Mama Anna, was called. There’s already a mee-mee and a PopPop on your daddy’s side of the family, which — in my opinion — is just as well. I guess we’ll just have to stick to the plebian names and be happy that we have a name of that sort at all!

I want you to know me so well. I want you to love me best, after your mom and dad. I admit it: I want to be your favorite grandparent. I want you to call me on the phone, and beg me to come visit. Or come pick you up to stay with us. I want to live closer to you. I want to be your babysitter.  I want to quit work and take care of you while your parents work. Ahhhh…. if only that were possible.

But, for right now, all I really want is for you to keep growing and growing, and make your mother eat more and more so you can finish cooking all the way and in the right ways. We want you healthy and hearty. And in the final analysis, what more should we ask for?

Nothing.

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~ by Heather on October 19, 2011.

One Response to “…to the next generation”

  1. lovely. Love, Mom

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