Guess who has a new nephew to corrupt? That’s right! ME! I’m only kidding about the corrupt part, because he is sweet and perfect and wonderful. And while some may argue that those traits can make for the most entertaining corruptions, I simply love this little boy too much to buy him a synthesizer and drum kit for his sixth birthday or feed him nothing but Skittles and let him stay up late to watch Weekend at Bernie’s and Caddyshack II and set off firecrackers when he comes to visit.
My sister did such a fantastic job in the delivery room. No drugs! No screaming! (Well, mostly. But I only did it that one time.) She almost made labor look easy, like a Dr. Suess poem: Give birth while you sleep! Give birth in a Jeep! Give birth lying down, give birth with no frown! (Well, easy except for that one part that caused me, her childless sister, to curl into a numb ball of terror in the corner. Kidding again!)
I’d never witnessed a real, live birth before. And it was amazing. I freakin’ CRIED, alright. And then I drove home at three in the morning, so dog-tired and sentimental that I actually listened to The Scorpions’ “Wind of Change”* in its entirety (remember, I was overtired), smiling goofily nearly the whole way and thinking things like, “my new nephew makes me want to be a better person” and “if we work together, we can change the world.” Babies are just such hope-inspiring little people. They make me want to join a commune and give up my place in line at the Department of Motor Vehicles. (Well, after today they do.)
He is eight pounds / eight ounces, twenty inches long, alert, strong, and his back is kind of hairy. I just love him. The trick will be figuring out how to wrestle him away from my parents, who have already begun to spoil their first grandchild like it’s a competitive event.
And do you know what else? I’m his only aunt! And I’m the Godmother! Do I sound like I’m kind of bragging? I guess I am…this is all so very exciting.
I promise I won’t turn this blog into the New Nephew Photo Gallery. Unless you want me to. Do you? Have I mentioned his cute little mango-shaped head tucked into that snug little knit cap? And his adorable button nose and wide, wondering eyes? He already has many hobbies, such as sucking on his teeny-tiny fist and winning hearts and minds. He’s very talented and brilliant. I will post a picture or four-hundred when I have some.
Sidenote: my mother told me that when she was in labor with me, the doctor brought in six student interns to observe my birth. Isn’t that something? And I’ve been an attention-hog ever since.
So tell me some birth stories. How were you born? How were your children born? How was the universe born? How about the concept of the spelling bee?
I’ll start: when my younger brother was born, he came out peeing and the doctor said, “It’s the fountain of youth!” Okay, your turn!
*This was playing on the radio. If you ever find this in my CD collection, please schedule an intervention and restrict my access to things like checking accounts, flammable materials, and microphones at public events.