Oh my boy!

So, now we are getting into the real nitty gritty of our kids growing. Sweet Lucas will be turning one on Wednesday and his birthday party was today. Emmy has been sickly--just a cold and with no fever--so we went today and they had the best time. I love Lucas as if he were my own little guy. He's a lucky guy--he's got his fabulous mom and dad but he also has his incredible Mimi and Grandma Jim and Nana and Papaw. I think about the day that Tara told me he was coming. I was so raw (not that I am not now) after Momma's death. It was only a month after she died and we were at Wal-Mart and walked by the baby section and, as usual, I remarked on the cute baby clothes and Tara remarked, "well, you will have to buy me that stuff soon". I hugged her almost instinctively but could not get out of that store and away from her soon enough. I wanted so badly to be pregnant and I was so happy for her and so sad at the same time that it wasn't the other way around. I got in the car and couldn't call Momma. I did the next best thing and called Pat. I was in tears and she said the perfect thing: Oh Yeah! I am so happy for them! I will never in my entire life forgive myself for the guilt I feel for ever even letting my selfishness take away from the most magical moment in Tara's life.

And then I got pregnant. I ran to her house and jumped over Jorge, tripped over the dog and waved a pregnancy test in her face and she cried. Like a sister should have done. But I didn't do to her. Not like I should have. And then the fun started. We bitched and moaned together---pregnant and ready for a good drink over the next few months.

On the 23rd of October, I got back from lunch to see that I Had a missed call from Tara and when I finally got Jorge on the phone, he said she was at the hospital. I grabbed my stuff and left right then proclaiming to everyone that "I am off to be an aunt!!!!!!!!!" and I was. We sat in that delivery room with her parents and Jorge's parents and waited. Tara was, as always, the champion of things that suck. Instead of being honest of how bad the labor pains really were, she only looked at me, with a little tear in her eye and said she didn't want to scare me, it wasn't that bad. Okay, come on, T2, I know that labor isn't going to be fun--it's going to hurt!-- and I am WAAAYYYYYYYYYYY pregnant, no need to pretty it up for me. When the doctor came in and said that they were going to do a c-section, I thought all was good. But, when we left her in that room, on her way to the operational room, I almost lost it. I knew that she would be okay, I knew that my Lucas would come out with his little perfect noggin because he didn't have to fit through that tiny little birth canal but what if??? What if? I sat in that waiting room with her family and Jorge's family and I waited. FOREVER. Finally, at 3am, they let us see them. I went in and told them how happy I was for them, there were so many family members there, and I left after only a few minutes--they knew I was there and they knew that I loved him but it was their grandbaby and I had a lifetime to show him how much I loved him--even if we had none of that silly blood between us.

And now he is one. One year old. How is that??? That little guy is a year old and he is walking. Walking!!! A boy! He's no longer a baby, he's a little boy. Momma always said that she would be "Yia Yia" which is Greek for Grandma so I felt it was only natural for me to take the Greek name for aunt, "Thia" for Lucas. I had my dear, dear friend Joy make him a blanket that reads "No one loves me like my Thia" and it is so true today. No one loves him like I do. I might not have a blood relation to him and I have chosen to love him. My little one year old guy. The little one year old that shares his wagon with Emmy at his birthday party. We are all pretty lucky to have him in our lives.