Time To Bake Those Cookies

Because great-niece number two has arrived.
I sure hope my brother has been saving for Christmas.
Two granddaughters equal lots of girly stuff to buy.
Or in his case, lots of pink tool sets and coveralls.

The news came too late in the evening to bake what is fast becoming my traditional baby cookies. I kinda like the idea myself. Of course, I'm for any idea that includes chocolate and baked goods. Tomorrow will serve the same purpose. Cookies are definitely on the agenda.

I think of my own baby girl and the day she joined us. I was wearing a red t-shirt and maternity overalls... my outfit of choice for most days of the week. That girl of mine arrived exactly thirty-six minutes after the first contraction. Maybe that explains why she's always in a hurry now.

All of my kids were in a hurry, as a matter of fact. I never had to endure long labors or horror stories. Three and a half hours, two hours and forty-four minutes, and the thirty-six minute girl. I remember the nurse who helped me with her telling me that if all of her labors were that easy, she would have had ten kids.

I laughed then. Not so much now. There are times when both my husband and myself wished we would have had more children, but thankfully that feeling has faded as time goes by and the kids we have grow. No sense re-living diapers and bottles when we're in the middle of messy rooms and too much soda.

Besides, now we get to enjoy all the joys of a baby without actually having to take them home. Like I've said before, we're watching a whole new generation emerge into an ever-changing world. And like I said yesterday, Grandma's prayer list just got one name longer. Her name is Payton.

And so tomorrow I will bake cookies in honor of Payton Faith. My own kids will devour them while I rush to stash a few behind for my husband's late night snack. We'll watch for pictures and count the days until we can see and hold her for ourselves. Christmas once again looks a little brighter.

Congratulations, Grandpa.
You better kick in some overtime.
And clear out more space in the garage.
Another race car driver has just been born.