(For anyone who read this as a blog, I apologize. It quickly went to blog heaven, and I wanted my family to see it.)

Full disclosure. I've got (ahem) a few decades of miles under the hood, but my brain still longs to be thirty. So you might imagine my shock when reality collided with illusion. Not only am I old enough to be a grandma, I AM one. And I am completely, totally, whole-heartedly in love.

We didn't know whether to buy blue or pink, so we came armed with both. Baby was 12 days late, which made logistics tough. Nanas live in two different states; mom and dad reside in that "school up north" state. We circled nearby, like planes waiting to land. Finally, we received that long awaited text to head to the hospital. Pop stopped for coffee, while the grandmas went ahead. My daughter's mother-in-law had just said, "I better slow down," when the dreaded blue and red lights pulled up behind us. The officer leaned into the car to see two anxious, "upper middle-aged" ladies in the front. My son-in-law surmised later that Mr. Officer was checking to determine what kind of derelict was out at 2am after the long Labor Day weekend. Turns out it was a malfunctioning brake light that tripped us up. Once he realized that we were harmless, he sent us on our way with a chuckle and "good luck with the grandbaby." Hmmm, I wonder if he would have been as forgiving if he'd known that we bleed scarlet and gray.

We pulled an all nighter, but were rewarded with a brand spanking new grandson. GREYson is perfect and will be watching his very first Buckeye game with Mommy and Daddy today. Of course, he is suited up in his Ohio State onesie. Congrats to all families of new little Buckeyes. Bring them up properly. Greyson and I already worked on his O-H!  and I-O! at the hospital. Go Bucks!