In my twenties I told my then husband that I had imagined myself at middle age + to be sitting around the homefront, still flat picking on my old Martin, a long grey braid over my shoulder, with tons of grandchildren clinging to my skirt just like they'd do each week for Sunday dinner.

Oh, yeah, I have the greying hair and the sweet old guitar, but I'm grandchild-less. There's been no more kiddie noses to wipe and bottoms to powder and sweet cheeks to kiss in my family in some time now. My 30 year old son has never been married and has never fathered any children, and would make a fabulous Dad. He's had some great girlfriends along the way, but still hasn't produced any babies. And, of course, my dear 16 and a half year old daughter would do well NOT to make me a grandmother anytime soon.

I realize I'm blessed to have had two beautiful children, but when is it my turn to be a grandmother and enjoy the kidlets without all the guilt? I'm just wondering....