Showing posts with label babies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label babies. Show all posts

Friday, April 24, 2009

I'm usually right

I once (6 days ago) said that my friend Ashley will not be the kind of mom who annoys me. Exhibit A:
Marissa: How’s Patrick doing at home?
Ashley: He’s super chill

We’ll keep a running list, so other people can take notes. She didn’t say “a gift” or “blessed” at all. Not once. That is a gift, I feel blessed.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Awww...ewwww


Several of my friends have recently had, or are soon to have kids, and I don’t know if that’s the reason, but for the past few weeks, I think I’ve had baby fever. They’re so cute and squishy and tiny. I find myself smiling and sometimes making actual audible sounds of “aaaaaaaaw” to kids on the street, totally involuntarily. It probably goes without saying that I am in NO WAY ready to take care of an entire extra person, but I tell you what…a Saturday at Dylan’s Candy Bar full of sugared up kids in candy heaven saying things like “LOOK AT ALL THE GUMMY BEARS!” in their squeaky helium voices, is enough to make me want to hang out outside the maternity ward and wait for a nurse to turn her back. I’d steal an Asian one, they’re the cutest and I wouldn’t have to help them with their math homework.

UNTIL Monday night when I watched that day’s Oprah on DVR. (Yeah, I record Oprah, along with the rest of world. Get over it.) I’m almost positive the point of the show was to make sure that no one ever wants to have children ever again. Oprah doesn’t want kids, so maybe she’s just sick of them altogether and doesn't want any more of them around. She could probably pull that off, she’s very powerful. If that’s the case, she devised the perfect plan and I now completely understand what I watched. If that’s not the case, then the entire hour scaring the hell out of me was an accident, and Oprah’s producers should have tweaked “The Secret Lives of Moms” into something that didn’t make me want to get a hysterectomy. Candor’s great and I appreciate people who are comfortable enough to talk about their lives’ imperfections; and the part about the kids driving you nuts doesn’t bother me. I have almost no patience and kids drive me nuts all the time, so it stands to reason that my own will, too…but there have got to be some moms who don’t hate their husbands, and who shower more than once every 3 weeks. That’s dirty, even for me.