Baby Crazy

I don’t know if you knew this about me, but I am baby crazy. Honestly. I see kids, and my uterus literally starts to cry because I refuse to get knocked up. It’s hard being too poor for children when your biological clock is ticking and your womb is plotting against you.

Chase’s parents came to visit today, and we had a get-together at his sister’s place. Which meant that I got to play with her 7-month-old. Which meant that I went bonkers with excitement. Seriously, Chase’s family must think that I am some kind of crazed lunatic because once you put me in a room with a wee one, all I do is follow it with my eyes until I am forced to leave, arms outstretched, weeping because I can’t bear to part with the baby. Um… Okay, maybe it’s not that bad. But it’s pretty close. And then for the next few hours after we leave, Chase has to listen to me say stuff like “Oh my god, he’s so cute!!” and “I want one!” over and over again. My common sense EVENTUALLY returns, and I realize that even if I DID have the money, I don’t want to have to buy a maternity wedding dress, and I don’t want Chase’s poor father to have a heart attack, and I don’t want my husband to miss out on going to college and . . . Ugh, there’s so many reasons NOT to have kids, it makes me really sad sometimes. Eventually it will happen, though, and in the meantime, I’ll enjoy my freedom and pacify my uterus by playing with Chase’s nieces and nephews.

Little Monkey


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