I have the extreme pleasure of spending time with my new great-nephew this weekend. Yep. Great-nephew. Like, I'm not saying he's a "great" nephew. He's my niece's baby boy. I, at 36, am a great-aunt. As luck has it, this little guy is also quite great.
He's four-months-old and super sweet. It's been awhile since I've been around a little baby that I could, unashamedly, snuggle, cuddle, and kiss on without the mom wondering if I make off with her little one when she uses the bathroom. "No, go ahead. Take as much time as your need." *evil grin*
I've enjoyed, more than I can put into words, the time I've had with my family, even though they're nuts. Who isn't, right? And every time I get asked, "How about you have another?" I've responded, "Talk to you brother-in-law/son-in-law/uncle/my hubby." because he's been to blame for us ending our gestational journey. He's done. No more. Two is the max.
For the longest time, I wasn't into more babies. Then, just in the past six months or so, the baby bug has been nibbling at me. Yet, when given the opportunity to change diapers, I declined. When talked to my niece, who was up with him several times during the night, I felt sympathetic. When there was ample amounts of spit-up, I mildly panicked. "His shirt is wet. Like really wet. You should change it."
So as this weekend visiting family, sans my children I should add, ends, I'm wondering if maybe I needed a little reminder of what life is like with an infant. It's filled with smiles and babbles and sweet little baby toes. It's also filled with poop, sleep deprivation, and fussy times. I'm probably good. But before I leave bright and early tomorrow morning, I'm going to soak up every last minute of babyness they let me. I'll get to see him again in December and my girls, who will be meeting him for the first time then, will be out of their minds with love!
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