Damnit. It's that time of year again. When all I see is all things baby. I even had enough nerve to call our benefits person to drill her about maternity leave and all that it entitles. What is with me...Is this what 31 is doing to me?? I swear I oogle, and coo at everything that resembles an infant. Even little dogs.. Maybe this has to do with Ray's passing. I dunno. But I swear I can taste the little dumplings cheeks as I hold it near me. Any anti-child person with a right mind would definitely coin me as crazy. Maybe it's parental pressure? I don't think so though. My mother and I literally have already mapped out daycare plans for this little person. BUT I SWEAR THERE IS NO LITTLE PERSON. At least not conceived..not yet..
It must be talking to my baby-fied sister. Who can't get enough of her little angel who is now in the "waving" stages. He waves at everyone and everything, cats, people, the wind. He waved the other day because he knew he was busted. So he proceeded to wave with one hand in effort to distract mommy from the big trouble he was in..Exactly what he did, I am not sure of. I DO know that he has become quite comfortable opening the oven...
(sigh) all that, and yes, I still want one or two. Twins preferably. Call me crazy but I have always wanted to little ones together. In separable so they will neither ever be alone. No matter what happens to me or the honey or the current little guy.. No gals here at my office are preggers yet. I think I might be the first..Not sure. But it feels like I might be sooner rather than later...It's all I can think about. There is a twinge little tiny spark in all this fluff that I call my mind that envelopes a little satchel of fear. Like maybe I am not ready financially..What if I will look like "night-of-the-living-dead" everyday due to lack of sleep.!? What if I amount to the size of very rotund woman if I can't lose the baby fat. I can't even lose the fat I have now!
So yeah, I guess I still have my doubts. The ex-monster even asked me when we were planning to do this. Although I think her reasoning was more paranoia and insecurity-driven than asking out of genuine concern or curiosity. Still I don't care about her. Well, I care when she pisses me off. but ick, out, get out of my brain, I don't want her in this post...Barf, gag, purge, okay, out she goes...
I am not crazy. I am premenstrual. I just need to keep chanting that, maybe I will believe it, if I say it enough times...
