Probably my love for babies had it’s beginning when I was three and a half years old and my baby brother was born. So tiny and helpless and for me fascinating. As he grew and could be left in his play pen for a while and it became my job to watch him. Literally, mom said “Watch your brother. Call me if he cries”. He mostly just slept or amused himself with his toys. I sat cross legged on the floor looking at a book or building towers of blocks. Later there was a sister when I was eight and I was involved in her care to the extent an eight-year-old could be trusted to do so. About four years later there was another sister, but she had a heart defect that could not be fixed and only lived four days. All my family was devastated.

Along the way there have been baby cousins, friends and neighbors that I spent time with. My first job was, of course, babysitting. I was about thirteen when I sat with infant twins for a few hours in the evenings. That could be challenging at times but was such a joy. Sitting in a rocking chair with a baby on each arm and their bottles held in my hand. Had to learn to stand up with them, drop the bottles by the sink and gently put them down to sleep.

When my own babies came along in my early twenties, I was ready. The moms, my mother and mother-in-law were not all that sure and offered lots of advice. I listened and followed my instincts. It worked, apparently, because both my son and daughter grew all the way up. My favorite memories of the babies are the common moments. The warm, sweet smell after the bath. The milky, toothless grins. The first laugh and word. That shaky first step. Those little arms reaching to be picked up and the sweet peace of their head sleeping on your shoulder.

I fell in love in a new way when I had my children. But oh, the delight that is grandchildren. First my daughter gave us a grandson who captured my and my husband’s hearts. Then my son had his daughter a few months later and she was so sweet and also so very loved. Babysitting was my absolute pleasure and I did it as often as possible. Neither of my children’s first marriages survived, so I got a new daughter-in-law and son-in-law and subsequently another granddaughter, two grandson’s and a step granddaughter who is the same as mine in my heart. All the grandchildren had baths in my kitchen sink, slept on quilt on the floor at my feet and stayed the night fairly often.

One more time I lost my heart completely with the birth of my great-granddaughter. She lived in my house with her mother and father for a time so I could share her special moments and I was over the moon happy with her. But it gets better. Another great-granddaughter, a different personality from her sister and totally wonderful. Some time passed and my granddaughter’s family moved to a place of their own. Then one day she told me there was to be baby boy. Oh, my. I thought about how hard it was going to be with three little ones for her. But for me? Wow! One more baby to love. Time to go shopping for some blue blankets and jammies.

The three great-grandchildren live only a block away from my house so I get to see them often. The girls come to visit and play outside where we have a big back yard. They ride scooters and bikes on my driveway and collect leaves and rocks and ask many questions. They are my joy. The littlest is walking and jabbering now and is a treat every time I see him. He’s so happy almost all the time and that smile is better than sunshine.

As each of the kids and grandkids grew up I often thought my baby days might be over. When my children graduated high school I felt that my babies were gone. But not too much later here came the grands. As they got to be teenagers I felt that same little prick. Then my granddaughter had the greats and here I am wiping sticky fingers and chocolate faces, playing peek-a-boo, and buying toys on every grocery run. Maybe my baby days are over now that I am considerably older myself. Or, maybe not.