Here's an example: Haven found out she was expecting. Then Robert found out his "Baby Mama" (his words) was expecting. Both babies were due on June 18th, which happens to be my birthday. Only then Robert's Baby Mama found out she was having twins, so now the tally was up to 3 birthday babies.
I'm not gonna lie: I sort of loved that all these crazy babies were going to meet the world and party with me on June 18th.
But then Becky went a week early (twins will do that to you) and Haven went late (as in, while-I-was-on-my-two-day-vacation late).
I met all the babies and suddenly, life seems even better.
I wasn't expecting that.
I spent plenty of time stressing over everything, worrying that no one was ready, wishing things could be different.
Here's the miracle of tiny babies: They are a blank slate. They're wide open with promise and grace. They don't see us through the same lens as everyone else in the room. The shadows of our past mistakes don't settle down around our shoulders, making even our good parts seem more like a fluke. They see only who we are right now. Life becomes an opportunity to be exactly who we always knew we were. Everything moves forward, nothing in reverse.
They are brand new and all they really need is love. And, well, food. And sleep. And stability. And books, they need books. And songs. Diapers, clothes, blah blah blah.
But mostly, just love.
I'll stop now.
Say it with me: Love!
There will be hard days and harder nights, but God has a purpose in each of them.
What a gift, to be a part of these lives.
It goes against my strongest instinct to not force them both to sign an oath stating that they will text me daily updates for the rest of eternity.
I guess this kinda makes me a Grandma(ish). I mean, sort of. But not really, because I'm not that old, people. Even if my wrinkled mug seems to be telling a different story lately. Even if the receptionist at the twins' doctor visit took one look at me and announced, "So, you must be Grandma!" Uh, no. I did not birth Becky when I was 13. But thanks for asking.
Becky's words to me: "Now who's gonna go saying something like that?" (insert that face. you know the one.)
My words to Becky: "Promise me that you'll never say that to someone unless her hair is white and all of her teeth are missing. All of them."
We were both a bit scarred, but it wasn't anything a fountain Coke couldn't fix.
That's her name. Avery. I love it. And know what else? One of Robert's sons is Avery. Just to make the whole thing a tiny bit more strangely, wonderfully, confusing.
But really - is she not the cutest little girl you have ever seen in your entire life?
Life just never, ever stops with its unexpected goodness.