I attended a baby shower this weekend. A baby shower. For my very own good friend. Because she's having a baby.
It's almost unfathomable, this talk of babies. It really is quite cliche, but it does feel like just yesterday we were sneaking into corn mazes in the middle of the night in college. And crying over boyfriends. And licking spilled alcohol off tabletops.
Now she's having a baby. And it's likely Skylar who'll be doing the crying. A lot. And spilling milk on tabletops. And I probably wouldn't lick that up, Lor.
She's grown up. With a beautiful house, wonderful husband, perfectly decorated baby room, awaiting it's arrival. But I miss her. I saw her inflated belly for just the second time this weekend, and by the time I see her again, she'll probably have a newborn in the car seat. And our conversations will be hyphenated with a hiccuping baby girl, or a quick diaper change.
I wish I could've watched her belly grow. Stuck my face up to it and chided the unborn baby for not letting me feel her kick.
As July 1 nears, I'm sure I'll be included on the call list, making the announcement that a healthy baby girl was born, but I'll wish life hadn't gotten so busy. I'll wish we'd had more time to talk baby, and more time for wedding talk. More time to watch the belly grow, and more chances to feel a kick or three. Because I know she's in there! And if she's anything like her mother, she's a feisty one.
But, inevitably, life gets in the way. I plan a wedding. She plans a family. We're always one step away from each other, but at least we're walking in the same direction. And that's OK. As long as Skylar knows darn well who her Auntie Krista is. Because, man, I will be a cool aunt.