Brown and Gold; never again.

The other day, April was holding her new baby boy, R.J.. I always sat next to her and beheld the wonder before me. I had seen April throughout her pregnancy and became closer to her. I felt connected to the new child in a way I wasn't with my other nieces and nephews. I loved him. Then, for the first time in little R.J.'s life (and mine) he looked at me. Something deep inside me moved as our eye contact held. "That's your aunt Mel," April told him. I gently looked at him, his blue eyes were so deep. Absolutely the deepest I've ever seen. I wanted to cry the more I looked him over. I wanted to hold and carry him. I wanted to take and love him. But alas, I smiled at him and, to my surprise, he smiled at me and April smiled and I knew this was different. This was new and I was actually a part of it. Witnessing a mothers love and my own maternal instincts. April and Ryan prepared to feed him, and once the trance was broken, I was content with sitting next to April. After my father and Judy's christmas party (I finally got a winter coat), I asked if April and Ryan could give me a lift home. Duh, yeah they could. I took the liberty of carrying everything of theirs (and mine) out to their car and getting it started up for them and the baby. After that, I waited for Ryan to get in the car and we left for my house. On the way I told April and Ryan about Taylor and his home front. We laughed at the "Ticking time bomb" remark my psy teacher made and said goodbye. I walked in the house and was yelled at concerning whether or not I did my chores. Well, happiness has a short expiration date, and that's what I have learned and have to deal with.