The weight is not coming off as fast now. I am still loosing, but slower now that my body has caught on to this new activity.
I am still walking around in circles waiting for that first glimpse of grandbaby. I want to smell that new born baby smell. Hear its coos and cries. Change its poopy diapers.
Boy? Girl? I don’t care! Health? I sure hope so.
I want to knit little things with the sex of a specific cuddly crying infant in mind. Not that I am into the pink and blue thing. But frills or no, would be helpful. (And just for the record, if my grandbaby is a boy and wants frills or a girl who does not, they can have it the way they want when they are old enough to state a preference, but it must be the child’s choice.) I think you now want I mean here. Something knit with that baby in mind.
They are not even telling the names they picked out until it is born.
It is harder to feel involved when you don’t know the sex or name choices.
But I know that the waiting will be over soon. I will survive this time. I will forget the waiting. As soon as I see that ugly scrunched up baby face.
Two heads and ten legs… I don’t care. I have this love all bottled up just waiting to be poured out on this grandkid of mine.