Some of you are aware I became a grandmother last week.
(I'll pause here a moment to bask in the warmth of your disbelief.)
I don't know how it happened, but somewhere between sleeping and waking, this sweet baby boy grew up. Not that he had far to go, mind you. I swear he was using my uterus as a frat house, since he came out mostly grown at ten pounds, ten ounces.
Twenty-five years ago.
Toting an empty beer bottle.
While driving a car.
And sporting tats.
This is Clinton. No, he most certainly was not named after the cigar-toting Bill. We were going more for the Clint Eastwood appeal.
One year ago today (that's correct . . . today is their adversity day!) he married my beautiful daughter-in-law, Shelby.
It is overwhelming to see your child as the man he has become.
And even more so to see him as the father he now will be.
Last Wednesday morning, this sweet little angel came into the world.
Eight pounds, one ounce of pure perfection.
Grandi is smitten.
Even Papa is overwhelmed. And he's a badass.
She is so beautiful.
Did you notice? She already has a weakness for owls.
And I don't care how many fingers she has growing out of her head.
Isn't it wonderful that she has Great Grandma to spoil her??
I told Reese not to worry about those wrinkles in her head.
Every Klingon has those.
When I become a Great Grandma, I want to be called Awesome Grandma instead.
Eddie is completely unaffected. Of course, he hasn't met her yet.
He's got the bat ears going here.
How can my baby have a baby?
And how can she have the Calvin and Hobbes face down already?
Like you don't see it.
Just as I didn't know how to begin this post, I do not know how to end it.
My heart is filled to bursting.
Words cannot convey.
I am so blessed.
God is so good.