I'm at that point in my life where it seems like all of my friends and family are getting married and having babies. Which is wonderful, really. I love my friends, I love my married friends' spouses (most of them are also my friends) and I love their loud, screaming, poopy adorable messes of children. (No, really.) But being around all the love and marriage and babies has apparently started to take its toll on me. For example: I am a terrible facebook friend. I probably only talk to about 15 people on my friends list. (Sometimes that includes my mom, not gonna lie.) Everyone else, it seems, is just a "Oh, yeah, I know you. Let's acknowledge that fact and then never speak of it again" kind of friend. Which is fine, I suppose. I'm kind of hermit-y IRL anyway, so why shouldn't that carry over into the interwebs? Problem being, I'm a major creeper. (You have noooooo idea.) Like, if we're the not talky kind of facebook friends, but you have kids? I'm creeping on your pictures. A lot. All the time. I will ooh and ah allll over them... Anonymously. I mean, hey, you put them up there. Not MY fault. But thanks. You've given me my cute factor for the day. I appreciate your offspring. And I do. They're precious. Really.
Worse still are the IRL friends kids. Oh man. Those kids. They slay me. Right now, my friend Billie has a 4 year old daughter that might just be the cutest thing ever brought forth unto the planet. She's epically awesome. I want to steal her. (Disclaimer: Not really. But she is afuckingdorable.) She calls me Aunt, she smells like shampoo & bananas and she's just an amazing child. Beyond that, I have a 6 year old "nephew", another 4 year old "niece", and several toddlers in my soon to be assembled unholy army. But if that weren't enough, my cousins are allll procreating, as well. (Again, I'm all for it.) From my first cousins ALONE, I have 1 girl cousin, and 9 boys, 3 of whom are under 2. Oh. Dear. God. If you've ever struggled from a lack of adorable toddlers in your life, come to a family reunion with our family. The cuteness cup runneth over.
I realize I'm setting this up to be a bad thing, and don't worry, the punchline is coming. Like, right now. All these damned adorable kids are kicking my baby-maker-brain cells into overdrive. I have become the baby obsessed woman I never wanted to be. I have baby dreams. I look at baby merchandise for CHILDREN I DON'T HAVE. I have picked out my future offspring's names like a bieber-obsessed tween. ("And this one will be Britney, and this one will be Demi, and this one will be Justin Junior...") *Shudder* It's just wrong. But the worst part? I CAN'T STOP. It's like baby mania has set up shop and won't leave until I damn well produce one. WTF. Some part of me knows it's my subconscious' doing. It's up there right now, plotting, and putting all these thoughts into my mind. "You know, if you were born in viking times, you'd have shoved out about 8 of these by now and probably died of plague. You better get to gettin'!" Thanks, subconscious. You're a dick.
I didn't realize 25 was an appropriate time for your biological clock to go into defcon 1 mode. But, when your friends start producing heirs in their teens, I guess it's only natural that your clock gets an early nudge. BUT STILL. I have cats, man. Cats. (They're like people, but furrier and more demanding.) I live in an apartment with a roommate. Not married, not dating, not financially sound. Why, oh why, does my brain think I need a baby? Grrrr... I'm not a rash decision maker, so it's not like I'm going to go out and have a baby just to have one. I'm not stupid. But I wish the damn clock had a snooze button. In the meantime, I guess I'll just continue raising my cats and treating them like children. (Not like they give me any other choice. Spoiled, spoiled, spoiled.) Now, if only I could dress them up. Then I'd really have it all.
Until my next whim of insanity strikes,
I remain faithfully yours
---Alamo
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