Z is one year old. A fucking year!
I was around so many babies and toddlers yesterday that my biological clock went fucking haywire. I feel like pulling a captain hook from speilberg's Hook, gathering up all the clocks in the world and breaking thoses sons of bitches! Smashing them to pieces. Obliterating them!
We're sitting around a patio table at Matt's graduation party--my first nephew ever graduated from high school this year, true story-- and my mother tells me that yet ANOTHER of my cousins is expecting, and then goes: so this means that each on of my siblings will be a grandparent again this year!
Except her, was, um, the implication. Unless someone knows something I don't.
I was confused for a sec, because I couldn't remember one of the people having another baby and my Aunt was all: "What's that face? Are YOU pregnant?!"
"No" I say with haste and a touch of rage. No, I'm not pregnant. I'm not. I am not having a baby. And I don't think I will.
But I thought making that decision would have made existing easier. It has not. It has made me feel pretty glum and useless. I love hanging out with my neices and nephews. My brother goes: "I don't know Beth, you look like a natural!" I quickly deny this and hand the baby to someone else. But the thing is, I am not half bad with the neices and nephews. But that makes me an Aunt, you see, and not a mom...
Aaron was great with all the kids yesterday, both at Zoe's party and at Matt's. He did magic tricks and played washerboard, and fed Zoe watermelon! We drove home and I asked him: "So, Mr. Waite, you were around alot of babies today. How's that make you feel?"
"Like an uncle." He responded immediately. Then: "I think I'd be a really great, less-creepy version of Uncle Joey." He did not follow this up with a woodchuck impersonation or a 'cit-it-out!', but I am inclined to agree; he's a pretty great uncle, and despite the beard he is, yes, less creepy than Dave Coolier.
I ask him if he wants to be a dad. He is pretty 'meh' about it in that moment. I am feeling meh about it too, so we drop that discussion and talk about houses. How maybe someday soon we'll get to start looking at houses. Soon is, of course, in reality more like 5 years away, though, right?
Sigh.
Whatever.
When Zoes is six years old, perhaps she can come to our HOUSE and play with our pets. Maybe Aaron will build a treehouse to rival Punky Brewster's for our myriad neices and nephews...
BTWs, Zoe is the cutest fucking baby ever. And so sweet and smiley and playful and awesome. My othe neices are greta too, but jeez louise. Zoe was a rockstar yesterday and she is most definately Awesomesauce!
Off to breakfast with mum. Just see if I don't order chocolate chip pancakes. Afterall, I'm not worrying about getting baby ready.
I was around so many babies and toddlers yesterday that my biological clock went fucking haywire. I feel like pulling a captain hook from speilberg's Hook, gathering up all the clocks in the world and breaking thoses sons of bitches! Smashing them to pieces. Obliterating them!
We're sitting around a patio table at Matt's graduation party--my first nephew ever graduated from high school this year, true story-- and my mother tells me that yet ANOTHER of my cousins is expecting, and then goes: so this means that each on of my siblings will be a grandparent again this year!
Except her, was, um, the implication. Unless someone knows something I don't.
I was confused for a sec, because I couldn't remember one of the people having another baby and my Aunt was all: "What's that face? Are YOU pregnant?!"
"No" I say with haste and a touch of rage. No, I'm not pregnant. I'm not. I am not having a baby. And I don't think I will.
But I thought making that decision would have made existing easier. It has not. It has made me feel pretty glum and useless. I love hanging out with my neices and nephews. My brother goes: "I don't know Beth, you look like a natural!" I quickly deny this and hand the baby to someone else. But the thing is, I am not half bad with the neices and nephews. But that makes me an Aunt, you see, and not a mom...
Aaron was great with all the kids yesterday, both at Zoe's party and at Matt's. He did magic tricks and played washerboard, and fed Zoe watermelon! We drove home and I asked him: "So, Mr. Waite, you were around alot of babies today. How's that make you feel?"
"Like an uncle." He responded immediately. Then: "I think I'd be a really great, less-creepy version of Uncle Joey." He did not follow this up with a woodchuck impersonation or a 'cit-it-out!', but I am inclined to agree; he's a pretty great uncle, and despite the beard he is, yes, less creepy than Dave Coolier.
I ask him if he wants to be a dad. He is pretty 'meh' about it in that moment. I am feeling meh about it too, so we drop that discussion and talk about houses. How maybe someday soon we'll get to start looking at houses. Soon is, of course, in reality more like 5 years away, though, right?
Sigh.
Whatever.
When Zoes is six years old, perhaps she can come to our HOUSE and play with our pets. Maybe Aaron will build a treehouse to rival Punky Brewster's for our myriad neices and nephews...
BTWs, Zoe is the cutest fucking baby ever. And so sweet and smiley and playful and awesome. My othe neices are greta too, but jeez louise. Zoe was a rockstar yesterday and she is most definately Awesomesauce!
Off to breakfast with mum. Just see if I don't order chocolate chip pancakes. Afterall, I'm not worrying about getting baby ready.
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