When my cousin called up North from Georgia last summer, I was shocked. He never called. Then, when he told me he was having a baby, I was shocked. He hadn't ever even mentioned a girlfriend. Two weeks later, when he called and said he was having twins, I actually laughed out loud. I imagined my aunt grabbing a seat as her world spun. I imagined the expectant parents giddy with excitement and blinded with optimism. Months later, he asked me if I was excited to become an aunt, I was more shocked than I can say. Now my brother was having a child? As it turned out, Eric was just referencing his own babies-to-be, and I clarified that I was a second cousin twice removed. Or, um, a first cousin three times removed? An unremoved relative?
Jake and Emma were born healthy and happy and beautiful and loved and lucky. We will have to get over the fact that they were born Southern, ya'll. They will be in New York before they eat their first abomination of a pizza in Georgia, so I think we'll have accent free toddlers. Although my two cousins born and raised down there have inexplicably escaped the drawl effect, but the odds aren't looking good for everyone to avoid it. I have grabbed random office workers to show them how cute the twins are. I check my phone incessantly for updates. I terrify myself, for if I ever have a baby, allow me to apologize to all of my friends now- I may shoult their praises from a rooftop. It's out of my control.
I can imagine I will be adding my favorite pictures as they are created.