I feel *real* good this Friday. That is because I became a grandmother for the first time on Wednesday afternoon.
Some of you were aware of the impending event from an earlier post in which I revealed a unique diaper cake I had made for my daughter’s shower. It was very feminine, very pink with a doll and pink receiving blankets and bibs, etc. The shower was a celebration of pinkness and pretty feminine dresses and adorable tiny Mary Jane shoes. Two ultrasounds indicated it was a girl and we were confident in medical technology.
Imagine our surprise when baby made a debut and it was a BOY! Seven pounds, eleven ounces of pure baby manliness. The screams of “WHAT!!???!!,” echoed from cell tower to tower as the texted news flashed across the cell phones of friends and family. They actually had a boy’s name very early on but were still struggling to find a girl’s name they liked. Guess we now know why. A lot of us are hard at work changing the pronoun from “she” and “her” we had been so used to saying for months, to “he” and “him”. Youngest daughter and I beelined it to the nearest Wal-Mart and bought oodles of boy onesies, bibs, shoes, socks, outfits since my oldest daughter had not one stitch of boy clothing to put on the little man.
Mom and baby are doing great.
“So, you thought I was a girl. What an interesting assumption.”