Guest blogger Dani Klein Modisett: "I recently got an invitation to my 25th High School Reunion. I opened it while I was feeding my baby. Which made me think, "who has a baby 25 years after graduating from high school?" I quickly (actually slowly because I suck at math) did the calculation and discover I'll be 63 at my son's high school graduation.
"Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm 63?" I sing, trying to lighten the weight of this realization while I move on to changing his diaper. Gideon giggles at the sight of me shaking my head from side to side.
I smile back, sigh, and think,
"Baby penises are really small."
I fasten the Huggie at his hips.
I wonder if it will get proportionately larger as he gets bigger.
I hope it does.
I wonder what other women will think of his penis.
I wonder if I will live long enough to meet any of these women who will evaluate my son's penis.
Will I live to meet his wife?
If he waits as long as I did, it's not looking likely.
While I continue to dress Gideon for his nap and settle him in his crib, I flash forward to his high school graduation and it isn't pretty.
There I am in my Eileen Fisher separates amidst all the younger mommies in their fitted linen suits, holding the program up against my nose because I've forgotten my reading glasses in the car, right next to my calcium supplements. During the valedictorian's speech, I loudly unwrap and chomp on mints to mask the odor of my acid reflux. The ceremony ends and Gideon throws his cap to me. I reach for it and throw my back out.
I hobble to the car wincing, very proud of him, but hoping I can stay awake to watch "American Idol: Where are They Now?"