Babies on the brain

I love babies. Love. them. Maybe it's because my mom is a baby magnet and ran a daycare when I was little. Maybe it's from being the oldest of four kids and eleven cousins. Maybe it's from working with them when I was running play therapy. Maybe it's because they are so freaking cute and I can't wait to be a mom. Probably it's my ovaries.

Which are screaming at me.

It doesn't help that on Friday I went with Jeff when he was getting a haircut so I could visit with our hairdresser Nicole's four-month-old daughter who is perfect and beautiful. Or that on Saturday I went to a baby shower, prior to which I crocheted a baby hat, sewed a baby blanket, went shopping for pacifiers and other random baby stuff, and browsed Barnes and Noble's baby section for book. (The last of which left me in a tearful, hormonal mess).

My dad (creepily) told my mom that since I am not working, it is the perfect time for me to have a baby. While I wish this were the case, and I certainly have the time, we just don't have the money or space for a tiny baby S right now.

Not to mention that we've only been married for 8 months, and I want to enjoy being a newlywed. It's a little more difficult than you'd think, since hubby works nights.

Here's a not-so-secret: I am terrified. Not terrified in the normal, never-been-a-mom-before way. Terrified because I am already 27.

I don't want to be an "old mom." I want to have enough energy to chase around several kids and play with them and to not have too much of a generation gap between my children and me. I am grateful that I had young parents. My mom and dad were 22 and 23, respectively, when they had me. They had all 4 of their children by ages 29 and 30.




Even more scary, I want to be able to have children. I know so many young, healthy women in their 20's who are having difficulty conceiving and that scared me so, so much. What if I try to have kids, and can't?

Yikes, it is so unhealthy to think of the what-ifs. I know I will be a great mom, given the chance. For now, I will have to be content with borrowing my friends' kids (I'm talking about you, little Lilita, whenever you are born!), and playing mommy to our kitten.

Does anyone need a baby sitter?

The Colander of Love

Here is a love story from my life that trumps any Valentine's Day:

Once upon a time, Jeff was very commitment-phobic. My first year of grad school, I was 24 and we had been together for over 4 years. I was ready to make a big change, but he... wasn't. He couldn't imagine any benefit to moving out of his mom's house, where she cooked for him, did his laundry, and bought his underwear.

I was unhappy with this mentality, to say the least. I wanted more. I was ready for marriage, a house, kids.. all that good grown-up stuff. Alas. I was willing to wait a little longer for Jeff to come around, though not much.

At the time, I was living in a house about a block from campus that was filled with 5 18-year-old girls (that's a whole different story) and myself. They were gross, so I kept separate kitchen stuff that I would hide in my attic room until I needed to use it. I was seriously lacking in equipment, and it was a challenge to strain pasta with just a fork. Try it.

Jeff came by one evening with a little mesh colander, but oh so much more. You see, when he gave it to me, he said, "I got this for you, you know, I figured we'd need one anyway when we moved in together."

Angels singing, harps, the heavens parting, all of it! It was better than diamonds! I was so happy!

Of course when I shared this with the only two guys in my class, they thought it was hilarious that I would get so excited over a colander, which they dubbed the Colander of Love. They suggested I wait until I was given the Cheese Grater of Fidelity or the Spatula of Eternity, but I knew what the colander stood for.

The moral of the story is simple: "Love is expressed in many ways, even in colanders, and will come around when the time is right." Also, "don't look a gift colander in the...holes?" If you get a toaster as a gift, it might just mean that special someone wants to make you breakfast forever. : )