Waiting for Buster


I can’t sleep. I can’t concentrate. I jump every time the phone rings. I’m desperately waiting to get the call. That would be the one where my sister says “I’m in labor.”

I am one of two children, both of us girls, almost three and a half years apart. While we have certainly had our fair share of fights, as any good siblings should, we are also the best of best friends. I now have a better appreciation for how my dear sister felt as I was in the final weeks of my pregnancies. My sister is due in 6 days with her first baby, a girl, my niece, whom we have already nicknamed Buster.

See, early on in her pregnancy my husband had a dream that the baby was a girl and that my sister and brother-in-law named her Buster. So Buster she is, whether they like it or not. My husband is convinced that he will forever be known as “my weird uncle who calls me Buster” and I think he loves it.

Back to the waiting game. Waiting for my sister’s baby is nearly as difficult as waiting for my own babies was. The not-knowing, the lack of control, the excitement and anticipation. I can’t wait for my sister to experience labor and delivery and the thrill of the moment you first see and hold your very own baby. I can’t wait for her to feel that rush you get when you realize that you actually created a real human being. I’m excited to meet my first niece, the first baby in my family other than my own, and to be her aunt and love her to pieces.

I had bet on Groundhog’s Day back in the beginning so I’m hoping she makes her appearance tomorrow. Come on baby! Get out here! We’re all waiting for you!


Attic Shopping

We got a Zipcar and headed up to my inlaws’ in the burbs yesterday. Poor Declan has outgrown his 3-6 months clothing and we wanted to see what we had in the attic saved from Brady before we bought anything.
Brady must have been one of the most well-outfitted 6-12 month olds on the planet! We came back will all these clothes for D for now through fall!
The beauty of the second child is that you have hand-me-downs. The sadness is that they don’t get much that’s all their own.