Why have I been writing off and on about “guy stuff” all week? Well, it’s been on my mind, and here’s why. I’ve been getting ready.
Today, my first grandson was born. Here’s what a milestone he is:
- The first boy born into the family since my younger son, who is now 31.
- We’ve had eight wonderful, beautiful girls in a row in the meantime — my two youngest daughters, my brother’s two daughters, and my four granddaughters.
- My father had only one brother, who had no sons. Then there was my brother and me, and my two sons. And now my older son has a son, and he’s the only one in his generation.
- He’s the first boy in an even longer time on the other side of his family (the Herring side).
So you can see how I would be contemplating the nature of the male of the species, and trying to get my head around the concept.
We are excited. Excited the way we have been with every one of our grandchildren, only this time with a novel factor (for us).
Look at him. He’s a big boy, isn’t he? Look at those hands — I think he could palm a baseball. Unfortunately, I forgot to take one into the nursery with me (see how you can forget stuff when you haven’t had a boy in a while?). He’s 9 pounds, 7.5 ounces. A mannish boy. And dig that Kirk Douglas cleft. All the women who see him exclaim over that.
He will have all new stuff, unlike all the girls who had loads of hand-me-downs. We are not set up for a boy, but we will adjust.
His big sister, the super-articulate 2-year-old, isn’t entirely sure what she thinks. But I know she’ll love him, as we love her. He’s going to have her, and 6 girl cousins, hovering over him. But I think he’ll handle it OK.
We’re going to spend a lot of time with this guy in the days to come. And with our granddaughters, too, reminding them of how awesome and special each of them is.
This is going to be fun.