Dear Reader: I often write about the pitfalls and achievements of new older motherhood; the angst of moving into menopause; the knowledge that being over-50 means that the end post is right straight ahead, and in plain sight.

But, today, I’m writing about enlarging our family. No, despite many sleepless nights over this topic, we will not be adding any more children to our family. However, we are adding another member, of sorts. Today, I’m writing about my older son, who appears smitten with …let’s call her “Lady Godiva.” I am happy for him; he (and she) seems happy. I envision a wedding and all the rest of it coming my way – much sooner than later.

From time-to-time, I will share my foibles regarding this new phenomenon. I will write about how in every photo, she appears to be draped, like a magic carpet, on my son’s right shoulder. (There’s no space between them!) I will also write about how, through some facebook sleuthing, I found out (much to the chagrin of my son) about some previous escapades she’d had. And, a few Sunday’s ago, after he changed his personal status from “single” to “in a relationship,” the gloves were on.  (His response to my seeing this, real time, was a quiet, “You’re killing me…”)

From now on, I’ll be a snooping busybody attempting to find the truth about it all. Alone in my office, eyeglasses sliding down my nose with sweat, I read Lady Godiva’s recent facebook posts, in her native language.  Thinking I was being outsmarted, I set out to cut and paste the conversation so that I could learn about how she put the “tomacita in the commacita,” or something to that effect.  Like a demon on a mission, I attempted several different times, (actually most of the night) using several online language translators, to find out exactly what dastardly “act” they had done together. Only to find out, in the (very) end, that they actually ate “tomacitas” at the local Restaurant Commacita – ok, you get the gist.

Ha Ha Ha.

So, as our numbers grow and I (more than) relish the thought of enlarging our family (in fact, I dryly told him to skip the wedding and bring it all on), I welcome the day when I can have my two sets of children, in two generations, and can also be called “Grandma” – because I really will be one.

I’ll say it again, “Bring it on.” I am more than ready.