Baby Love? or not so much?

In the last year or so, I've had a surge of friends and family announce that they are going to become parents. Some of them had been trying for awhile, others had a time line in mind for the start of their family, others just got right down to business and others were already parents, adding one more member to their family.

Everywhere I go, I seem to see pregnant people or overhear stories of babies and toddlers. I've heard that this is one of the "signs" that you're ready to have a baby. I think that its one of the signs that you're at PRIMO child bearing age. Apparently at work, I've been mentioned as "the next one". I make sure to counteract that statement by taking a large gulp of beer, if its readily available. My problem is figuring out how in the world you take that leap of faith and determine that you're ready for such a life changing event. Is event even the right word to describe it? I don't know. Maybe I should just say, life change. Period.

The fact that I'm so wishy-washy about the whole idea is funny to me. Normally, I'm someone who decides what she wants to do and then does it and even sets deadlines for completion. Cases in point - Ohio State, yep came here by myself, met great friends and decided to stay. Internships - begged for them, took them and am grateful for it. Boyfriend/Fiance/Husband, we all know how that turned out. Grad school - decided I wanted my Master's degree before I turned 25. I had it before I turned 26. Chino - well he wasn't really part of the plan, even though he kind of was. We'll consider him an anomaly to my usual tendencies. Wedding - no pissing around here, done and done. Job - I went after it and finally got it. House, although accidental - worked out for the best. All in all, not so bad. So it seems to me, based on past history, that I would fall in the camp of deciding to have a baby before I turned a certain age or after I accomplished a certain goal or after a big event. The problem here is that I keep extending the age and adding more "one mores" to my list.

Perhaps the problem is that I want to have my cake and eat it too? Maybe the actual fear isn't of becoming a parent, its becoming "someone's mom". It was a hard enough transition to become someone's wife, but someone's mom!? Yikes. I think I'm still adjusting the the wife part, and find myself chuckling when I'm introduced as "my wife", or referred to as Mrs. or when someone asks about my husband. So someday when someone asks about my son or daughter, I hope that I don't look at them blankly and then laugh in the style of Beavis and Butthead..."hahaha...I have a kid...".

Its not even that I think that babies are scary, they sometimes smell weird and make loud noises, but I'm not scared. I don't really know what to do with them sometimes...maybe its different when they're yours. I will admit that I'm better off with toddlers than infants, but I think its because I'm really not much of a warm and fuzzy person, except when it comes to 4-leggers (especially Chino). Honestly, sometimes when it comes to babies, I fake it 'till I make it. Is that a problem? I hope not. If there is a way to fit a kid or two into our life, without it coming to a screeching, smelly, poop-filled halt, then I think I'm on board. If baby equals seclusion and practicality, then the next member of our family may have 4 legs, instead of two.

So I remain for now, happily on the fence, spoiling all of the new additions to my circle of friends (shout outs to Little J, Baby E, bun in the oven C, Little A, bun in the oven W, Baby M, Baby J, bun fresh out of the oven J, bun in the oven K, and bun in the oven A) and feverishly knitting and crocheting special gifts to keep each of them warm and cozy until they turn into toddlers.