Babies are weird.

...and by weird I mean cute little bundles of lovies who tug at your ovaries and scream at you for only having one.

I love babies.  I love their curled up fingers, their long and awkward feet, the way their hands almost always curl up to their cheeks for reasons that I will never know, but it's pretty damn cute. Their little cries, their hair, the SMELL.  Have you ever smelled a new baby? One that doesn't have crap in its pants I mean of course.

The way they can pee in their own eye, their little diapers and clothes, and the way they look at you, as if nobody else in the world exists.  Their little eyes, barely blinking, gazing at you lovingly, until you realize they are a breast-fed baby and they really are just sizing up your boobs thinking how great that meal could be.  Babies just don't get it.

The truth is, I'm afraid of babies.  Really afraid.  I'm afraid of their necks and how floppy it is, I'm afraid of dropping them and their mom beating  me up and I'm afraid of getting barfed/pooped/peed on.

I probably won't hold your baby unless you plop the thing in my arms, which is usually what happens.  I'm much more content shaking their hand with my pointer finger, or making silly faces and cooing at them.  Holding babies freaks me out, not to mention it makes my arms tired.  I often wonder how my arms were not like those of Michelle Obama's arms when I had a baby of my own. 

Today I realized I didn't know how old I was.  Somebody asked me and I answered 27, no wait 28.  I was hoping I was 27, but soon realized I was 28.  How does that happen? Where does the time go?  I had Mason when I was 23 years old.  I wanted to be done having kids by the time I'm 30.  Now realizing that I am 28, going to be 29 soon, I realize that goal is never going to happen. 

and it's kind of sad.

I mean, I made a pretty cute kid.

He was an adorable baby.

I should be making more.

Heck I should make like a whole bunch of them and sell them like Cabbage Patch Kids

...but that would be wrong.

...but I bet I'd be rich, and famous.

You may be wondering where this is all coming from.

Why is this girl off her rocker today?

What is wrong with her hormones?

I held a baby.

A cute baby who looks just like his cute older brother did three years ago.  I held this baby (after he was plopped down in my arms) and he stared at me the whole time, which I realized later was probably because my eye makeup was kind of runny and I looked like a hooker.  I hate when hooker makeup ruins beautiful moments.

He was tiny, and cute, and he smelled divine.  Have you ever looked really closely at a baby's wrinkly little hand? Or their fuzzy hair or the little white dots on their noses.


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Hello..this is my blog. I bought this fancy theme and I don't know what to write here just yet. Maybe one day remind me I have to write something inspiring here?


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