As in “Mama needs a cheeseburger” or “Damn, Mama’s tired.” It’s because I am going to be a mama. Again.

Yes, it’s true. At the end of August, there will be a new person living at our house. We are all excited, mostly Lucy. We told her Saturday before last and she kept wanting to see my belly, which she insisted was getting bigger (see cheeseburgers, above). Later that day, I was in the shower and she stuck her head in the bathroom to ask in a very grave voice, “Mom, how’s the baby?” I replied, “Fine…” “Good,” she said and shut the door.

When you next see her and she shares our news, please act surprised. She will likely say, “I have something VERY exciting to tell you! There’s a baby in my mom’s belly and it’s just starting to grow in!” Just starting to grow in…like new grass or a bad haircut.

Today Jason and I attended the new parent orientation at Highland Park Elementary School, where Lucy will be a kindergartner next year. Yes, a kindergartner.

I walked in the door of the 50-year-old elementary school and the distinct smells of cafeteria lunch and industrial cleaner transported me to Wooldridge Elementary, circa 1978. Ah, school. The cheery effort displayed on every wall. The little jackets on little hooks. The noise. I don’t remember much from kindergarten except the eternal nap time, but by first grade, I was in love with school. The world was at once so small (studying the intricate details of the wood grain pattern of my desk) and so big (learning about the Iranian hostage crisis).

As unreal and scary as it is to imagine her in that big/small new world, the very school-ness of the place was comforting to me. She will love it as much as I did.

…when life is confusing, distressing, character-testing and generally kind of crappy, you have to focus on what really matters: chocolate cake. And also a nice dinner. And pink tulips. And good friends.

Tonight Lu was making a very complicated Valentine card for our friend Katie, and I asked her if she needed help with the glitter glue. She replied, “Nope, I’ve got it under control” and waved me away.

?

I just want you to know that when she later needed help spelling EVERY WORD of the note included in said valentine, I did not say, “Well, well, well, who’s got it ‘under control’ now, smarty pants?” But I really wanted to.

When I first met Melanie, she was a teenager. She talked to me about boys. In the 14 years since then, she has become a woman, my sister, a wife and now…a mother. And she is still talking to me about boys — one in particular:

He is the prettiest baby I have ever seen. I will tell him this his whole life and it will embarrass him when he gets older, but I won’t care because I am his aunt and I am embarrassing. I also plan to tell his girlfriends and the other guys at soccer.