Damn hormones!

Obviously I have a lot of things to catch you guys up on, like actually telling about my marathon, and sharing pictures from a camping trip a few weeks ago, when I slept outside for the first time in my life. 

But there’s something a bit more pressing to share. It’s more pressing because it’s been kind of sudden. Or I’m guessing that it’s becoming that way. 

In the past, I’ve actually started a post a couple times about my thoughts on children (I never published them because I was afraid they'd come out the wrong way). About how once I got Piper and realized how badly I wanted people to like her and how protective I felt about a freakin’ dog, I also realized there’s no telling how ridiculous I’d be with a child. Not to mention when you consider how protective I am over my perfectly capable little brother, who I still refer to as my “little” brother despite the fact he’s 6’2” and 26 years old. 

I decided I wanted nothing to do with having a child. Maybe ever. Because the world doesn’t need that level of sanity, and ohmygosh do they ever stop crying? 

I heard them all around me. Crying. Begging. Demanding attention. I saw exhausted parents and parents who seemed to make their lives revolve around their kids. I saw dirty fingers. I saw minivans.

I realized I could see myself being ready for a family in 10, maybe 15 years (with an SUV, of course). Only I’d be 35 or 40 by that point (remember, this was a couple years ago). Plenty of people have started families at that age, but surely I’d want to start one before that. 

Thankfully, K was just as opposed to the idea of kids anytime soon as I was. 

Only he’s actually good with them. Kids love K. I’m the awkward one. I overthink the entire interaction. Oh my God, this kid’s handing me a Crayon. What am I supposed to do? Tell him thanks, or give it back? Am I supposed to hide it so he doesn’t color on the walls? Am I supposed to ask him what color it is? Shitshitshitshit!

And then ER had a baby. 

And then Danielle got pregnant.

Along with everyone I'm friends with on FB.

And I read blogs written by amazing mothers who have beautiful children who occasionally misbehave (like everyone) and sometimes have dirty fingers. But it’s great to see the moms' whole perspective, especially since I’ve watched these babies’ entire lives! Not to mention the fact that these moms manage to live for their kids (as it should be), but still hold onto themselves and do all the things they loved before the baby.

I had wondered if maybe I was missing the "mom gene," which would be crazy since I’d been labeled the mom in a group of friends a couple times. Maybe my aversion was to babies. I was relieved to talk to friends who said that the “switch” had flipped quickly for them. Or the ones who said they felt awkward around kids too, until they had their own. That it all came naturally. 

Lately, as I’ve been taking advantage of holiday sales (whoops!) for my professional winter wardrobe, I’ve thought to myself, Should I be buying clothes right now? Not because I feel guilty for taking advantage of Christmas sales for myself, but because I worry if I’ll be fitting into them much longer. *ahem ahem*

Then, last weekend, while hanging out with K’s family and his cousin’s 2-year-old son, I heard this weird voice in the back of my mind: I want one. 

Only I don't. I don't feel like I want one.

Not just yet. So where did that come from? Is my brain just preparing me for that time? Or am I in extreme effing denial? I've considered before that my ridiculous preoccupation with not wanting a child was a little suspicious.

I’ve thought about this dozens of times. It used to go like this: We could have a kid. I could handle that. It's just the responsibility of raising it that I don't want. I still want to be selfish and spontaneous.

Now, it’s a bit more detailed: We could do this. K and I could have a kid … Only we don’t really have room for one. We still need a guest room, so we’d have to use the office. Dang it! I like the office how it is. Maybe we could just throw a crib in there. It’s not like we’ll be here that much longer anyway. ... (Don't worry, I wouldn't just throw a kid in the office.)

And money. I mean, we're financially stable, but bring-a-kid-into-the-picture financially stable? 

I’ve told K (hesitantly) the things I’ve been thinking, and he's seemed pretty unphased. I haven't brought it up to anyone else yet, but I already know what ER will say. She'll tell me what her doctor told her: that most people don't ever feel like they're perfectly ready to have a child. They just make room for it.

Is that what's happening here?

Is this how it starts? Or am I just getting less vehemently opposed and more comfortable with the possibility?