It's a Small, Small World

One of the highlights of blogging for me is seeing what corners of the globe my visitors come from. India. China. Great Britain. Zambia. Australia. Canada. Not to mention places of interest all across the good ole USA. It is humbling (and a little frightening) that people from anywhere can click here and read my posts. Which is one reason I check and double-check my spelling and punctuation. How embarrassing would that be? A misplaced comma? Bad spelling? Horrors. I am kidding. I'm mostly human and even admit that I have been known to make the occasional mistake.

But I digress.

What I really want to share with you is that one of my regular visitors here at the Cafe in our ever-shrinking cyberworld is The Koala Bear Writer, and lately I've been stalking . . . uh, I mean visiting her blog waiting for her big announcement. I am thrilled to announce that my Canadian friend who chooses to remain anonymous, but visits my blog, has become a mommy. I could not be more proud. Congratulations to mom, dad, and baby koala! You can read the beautiful birth story here.

Isn't that fun? I may not ever meet my friend in person, but we share so much - our faith, our love of writing and reading, and now . . . the experience of giving birth to a small person. Connecting with people in our small, small world - that's what I love about blogging!

Welcome, Baby Girl

Where do you begin to describe the wonders of a newborn? The silky hair. The clamped-shut eyes that aren't ready to face the world. The heart-shaped mouth that makes pretend sucking movements even in sleep. Paper-thin nails on ten perfectly formed fingers and toes. A newborn is all of this, of course . . . and more.

This week, we welcomed our sixth grandchild into the world, and the greatest news is that she's a GIRL!! Soft. Pink. Already filling our hearts.

It's been a while. Between us, my sister and I have seven sons and six grandsons--fun, exceptional people who spit on the sidewalk and throw rocks for no good reason. Who wrinkle their noses at dressing up. Who popped from the womb making v-room, v-room noises. Hmmm. . . I see. You know what I'm talking about! I cherish each of my sons and grandsons and celebrate the unique qualities they have. In other words, I'm comfortable with sweaty socks, slurpy kisses, and skinned knees.

With no prior experience, I'm not sure we'll be able to figure out the "girl" in this equation, but already, Papa Max likes the feel of that tiny, dimpled hand in his. He can't wait to show her off to the world. And neither can I.

Welcome, Baby Girl.

You are loved.