About two weeks ago I managed to convinced myself I had gotten over it. We have enough going on with new jobs, bills, our beautiful daughters, the basement etc. etc. Whatever, I was totally kidding myself. Last night as I visited with our neighbors after my lock out experience, I got to hold their one month old son Barrett for about five minutes. And I contemplated stealing him.
I look at baby books. I look at baby shoes. I look at baby diapers and find them adorable. The idea of cleaning poo poo excites me. Each night as Hubs and I watch movies on the couch after a hard day, I'm not contemplating the plot line of the film we're watching.
I'm scheming reasons to go visit the neighbors. In fact, one might argue that my locking myself out of the house yesterday was a subconscious ploy to get myself over to Liz and Jeremy's to play with Barrett. Sick? Yes. True? It's not far off...
So yes, I admit it here for everyone to see. I have the fever. I'm accepting it, I'm embracing it. And besides, everyone else is doing it. One of our good friends is pregnant. Erin just had her baby. Missie has baby Brei. I have several friends that are trying. Of course, right now I can hear Hubs saying, "if everyone jumped off a cliff would you do it?"
Yes. If there was a super-human baby there to catch my fall. And I got to keep him.
I guess all I can say is I'm done fighting it. Hubs always feels it necessary to tell everyone we talk to that I have baby fever and I'm always denying it. Why is that? It's not a crime to want a baby, is it? I'm not breaking any rules. And just because I want one doesn't mean I'm getting one. (I learned that lesson with the Tiffany diamond earrings I wanted.) It's okay to dream and I'm going to dream. Dream and dream and dream (and take my birth control pill) and dream and dream and dream.....
Below are some pictures that are fanning "the dream" fire.