This could not be more false, I am at a child's birthday party. We are at a place called Pump it up and the adults are sweaty from trying to keep up with 5 year olds. This is pretty much what my life has been like for the last few weeks/months. So many people in my various concentric circles are getting married or procreating or having those that they procreated celebrate a birthday or graduation of quinceneras or bat mitzvas. Nary a weekend passes where I am not celebrating something for someone. If my few gray hairs aren't proof enough that I am getting old, my new Friday night plans are.
[Tangent: The gray hair issue is traumatizing. I wish I had the awesome sauce and confidence flowing in my veins to allow me to just Emmylou Harris it and go balls out gray. However I just get sparse stranglers and am only 27, so I am forced to dye or pluck. Usually the latter. After an impending birthday freakout last November, I dyed my hair super dark brown, which I was later told by my friend PJ, "made my hair look wig-like." Seeing his faux pas, he followed with, "Well, not a cheap wig. Like a classy wig...a call girl's wig." Fantastic. High priced 'tute was precisely what I was aiming for. Mission Accomplished.]
This whole being around little people [not dwarfs] all the time is semi making me want one. Baby fever is something that I have never really had. I love kids, and frankly, they love me. I come with a lot of fun accessories. I drive a car that is part transformer so the appeal on their end is obvious. I love my single, no dependent freedom, but I think its normal to think about it...I am a girl, remember?
Since I was about 14, I have known that I likely wouldn't be carrying my own baby Kimmies. [Tangent: If you have even been with me after a binge at a Japanese buffet, you know why I think carrying a baby would be unwise. When my belly is completely at capacity foodwise, I get the grunts. My breathing is compromised, and to be around me is not fun for anyone, so to be inside me (as in a baby) seems miserable. My hypothetical baby would need to be fully oxygenated to allow for optimum cuteness.] I have also really liked the idea of adoption. Maybe its the same reason I love stray puppies, vintage clothes and boys that are jaded after relationships with bitches. One girl's trash is another girl's treasure [Disclaimer: I am not calling a baby trash. It's a metaphor. Put away your anti-abortion brochures.] I also have experience. My oldest brother is adopted and I love him as much as my other siblings. In fact, for a long time I sort of assumed everyone had a brother from another birth mother living with them. [Tangent: I also thought the child adoption process was akin to picking out a puppy at the pound. My sister and I both separately concocted the same vision of my mom and dad walking down a corridor with windows along the wall. Inside each window was a different child doing something in their natural element...coloring, playing with blocks, napping etc.] Its obvious that they will be ethnic, because if they aren't gonna have my genes, I want them to have completely opposite genes. I want my family to look like a Beneton ad or a children's tv show cast.
Every time I go baby shopping for a friend, I find multiple somethings my little mini mes will one day desire in their lives. This day is likely far off, so friend, go ahead and take mental note. These are some items for my future minions to make it obvious they are my kiddies, despite their divergent genetics. [Tangent: I am not crazy- most of these have even been bought my me before, or I have come across while baby shopping for friends. I don't spend my weekends outfitting babies that don't exist....usually.]