I have never been the girl who was over the moon excited about being a mum someday. I never chose potential baby names for future offspring. Kids and I have never really gotten along all that well. Mind you, I have always wanted to be a mum, eventually. After I learn how to cook, manage my finances, find the right guy who can handle being with me, and earning several degrees of varying levels all in overly academic fields.
Lately, though, a cute baby makes me go weak in the knees and my ovaries start freaking out. "Reproduce! Reproduce now!!" my body seems to be yelling at me. It's weird! I have no idea what to do with this! And it just keeps getting worse. Lebanese children with almond eyes and curly dark hair, black babies with nappy hair, my little cousin Lydia who says "toot" in place of "cute." Do these darling creatures understand how heartless their existence and sporadic appearance in my life is? Apparently not! Just this morning I caught sight of a pudgy baby while running errands.
My ovaries are just going to have to learn to deal with disappointment.