What Times Is It?

You might think I am coldblooded, but I am not too fond of babies. Let me correct myself and say that I am not fond of the work that is involved that it takes to take care of a baby.

You have to feed it, which takes a hell of amount of effort, because they want to eat constantly. Apparently babies have yet to discover the breakfast, lunch, and dinner concept. Then there is the changing of the diapers that comes as a result of the constant feeding. My question is how can such a little tummy hold so many poops? Of course there is the bathing, the burping, the cooing, cleaning up their spit-up, and my personal favorite trying to appease a fussy crying infant. Oh, I almost forgot the lack of sleep! How could I forget that?

We can’t forget what happens to mommy. We get the stretch marks, the sagging belly, and my personal favorite sexy milk leaking boobs.

I have a daughter, and as you probably can guess that I didn’t pick her up at a bus depot when she was five. I had her from start. Raising her was wonderful. I loved performing 100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall at 3:00 am. (Anything to help her sleep.) I loved wearing spit-up stained shirts; there was nothing sexier.

She was an excellent baby. She was rarely fussy. She was very easy going. It was a pleasure to raise her. It was, and continues to be the best thing I have done with my life.

Having another child is kind of risky. What if the next child is not as easy going? What if the next baby turns out to be a butt-head? What if the next baby doesn’t appreciate 100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall? I would have to learn a whole new song. I just don’t have that kind of time.

Some people want large families, some people don’t want any children, and there is us, a family who only wants one child. We are not risk takers so David had (in his words) major surgery to ensure we stay a family of three.

We were chugging along just fine with our ‘only child decision’, but a few weeks ago I started hearing a very faint “tick-tock” in the background. Was that my biological clock ticking?

Is my body punking me? Do you remember when I fell off of the table on Holly’s birthday? I must’ve hit my head harder than I thought. I am blaming all of this on that fall. It must’ve knocked something out of whack in my brain- oh I know what it was-it was the RATIONAL part.

It’s not that I don’t like babies; I do. I like OTHER people’s babies. My motto is let the other mommies feed them, hold them, burp them, and change them. I don’t like to get involve. Tick-tock, tick-tock, shhh… be quiet you! Well maybe I’ll take some notes, but I am still not going to pick up your baby.

I am ashamed to say that I have a touch of baby fever. I caught myself walking down the baby isle at the grocery store looking at the cost of baby diapers, toys, and food. Thank God I haven’t gotten to the point where I am stalking, and chasing down infant strollers just to get a glimpse of ‘your beautiful baby’. Tick-tock.

I knew of this happening to other people, but I never thought it would happen to me. I like my life the way it is. I like sleeping through the night, and doing whatever I want without having to worry about what the baby wants. We have a pretty good life just the three of us so I am hoping; no I am on bended knee praying that this baby thing will pass.

*Plus there is nothing I can do about it anyway thanks to David and his major surgery. Thanks David. Screw you biological clock!