The newest member of my family, Jackson Clint Taylor, arrived this morning to my niece and her husband. He also has a big sister, 4, who is at least temporarily enamored of him. I can’t wait until she asks her mother if they can take him back. I’m sure that will happen sooner rather than later.

If Jackson Clint had waited a day, he would have been born on what would have been my father’s 90th birthday. It was really strange, my favorite aunt was my dad’s twin sister. I could always remember his birthday, but I could never remember hers. Go figure.

Anyway, not having children of my own, I live the whole childbearing/rearing saga vicariously through the rest of my family. And as much as I do love all my various nieces and nephews and their offspring, vicarious is plenty close enough. I love to spoil them, then give them back to their parents.

My niece and I are pretty close. I took her with me on my first trip to London and we had a blast. It was the first time we’d really spent any time together without the rest of the family around. Some of those pubs in London will never be the same.

And even though she’s not my child, we share a lot of the same physical characteristics — like hip dysplasia. To my knowledge, we’re the only two in the family that have it. There are a number of other of physical likenesses as well, enough that it’s evident that we’re linked by a common set of genes. And even though there hasn’t been a definitive genetic link with RA, it can tend to run in families. And so I worry about my niece.

But right now she, and the baby, are both doing fine.

I hope all the things that come your way today are bundles of joy. Thanks for checking in.

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