Last summer, I got a potted flower plant at Lowes. I killed it in less than a week. That's not true. I killed three potted plants from Lowes at three different times during the summer. I don't have a dog. Or a cat. Not even a fish. I think that this makes it clear that I am unable to bear responsibility for another living thing. Most days, it's all I can do to get myself out of the house with my glasses on, teeth brushed, hair looking halfway presentable with matching shoes on the correct feet.
Given this, when Coach A asked me to be her baby's God Mother, I thought she had lost her mind. "She hasn't seen the flowers," I thought to myself. Fortunately, she offered me the title before she came to her senses, and just like that, I became responsible for part of this precious baby's life. (You might remember my blog about the trauma of her birth...)
On Sunday, GBaby was baptized in a tiny church in Colorado. The same building, and the same priest, who baptized her mom 30 years before. The day was beautiful. Her family all lined up in the front pews. GBaby looking precious in her gown. And the God Parents doing their duties---I managed to stand in front of the congregation whilst not dropping the squirmy baby in a slippery dress and GodFather did not catch her on fire with the candle (please note my concerned look towards him with that candle in the bottom right photo below!). We pulled it off like champs.