Sockless in Massachusetts

I had been meaning to write a blog about my pending grandparenthood. Baby Boy Forseter’s due date was December 6. Plenty time to collect my thoughts. Plenty time to...be startled awake at 4:36 this morning by a phone call from our son Dan saying Allison’s water had broken during the night, they were at the hospital and Allison was 5 cm dilated! By 5:09 the count had climbed to 9.5 cm!!!

Yikes. Finley Hawthorne Forseter arrived at 7:01. His paternal grandparents made the mad dash to Newton Wellesley Hospital in Massachusetts and saw him at 9:40.

Yippee. And more emotions than I can recount here. You may be waiting for some grand eloquence on seeing the next generation presented before you, but I’m too overwhelmed at the moment.

Still a little skeptical about Finley’s genealogical purity as a Forseter. For one, he’s got normal sized and shaped ears. Second, he hasn’t cried all day. Third, his intestines seem to be working just fine. Fourth, he popped out in just a few hours, unlike his father and Aunt Ellie who each spent more than half a day floating down the birth canal, much to their mother’s “delight.”

Of course, he does have one factor in his favor. Like his father (and no doubt his mother) and his aunt, he is a B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L baby. I’m not expressing bias. It’s my considered opinion as a journalist with skills honed during 40 years of reporting truth, justice and the American way.

That’s it from the new baby home front. And yes, I entered grandparenthood as sockless as Finley entered this world.