A Granddaughter

I love my sons. I adore my sons. I think my sons are the best sons in the whole world.

I love my grandsons. I adore my grandsons. I think my grandsons are the best grandsons in the whole world.

I’m sick of blue.

I have a granddaughter. A brand-new granddaughter. Morgan Shea is teeny tiny, weighing in at 7 pounds and 2 ounces. So fragile. So small. So precious.

She also has hair!

And two big brothers.

Did I mention how much I love her brothers? They are wonderful and precious.

But …

After waiting patiently for over 31 years, there is a girl. I can buy pink – not for a niece but for a direct descendant. I can buy hair toys. And dresses.

Pink.

This is also the first time I got to hold a grandchild on the very day she was born. I can’t believe how wonderful it is. I didn’t have to fly to a cold place, but simply get in a car and be there. Holding this precious, darling baby weighing so little but being a complete person.

I know there will be a time when she gets to say – Nana, enough with the pink. I don’t like dresses. I want to wear jeans. I can’t keep up with my big brothers in these frilly clothes. I will love that, too.

But for now – I showed up with pink. Dresses, ruffles, hair toys. Pink.

I love my sons. I love my daughter-in-law. I love my grandsons. I love my granddaughter. Thanks so much kids, for letting me buy pink.