(fyi: I just asked ted for a suggestion of what to write a blog post about and his answer was james bond gadgets. So…that didn’t happen. Sorry to disappoint.)
A little while ago, I went to a girls-night at a friend’s house and about halfway through the night, I realized three things. 1. I am so lucky to have found such amazing people to be friends with here. 2. everyone’s hair looked much nicer than mine (I am in a perpetual state of bangs crisis! To grow out or not to grow out! Do I have to make a disclaimer to everyone I meet that I’m not really ugly?…) and 3. There were SO MANY babies there. Everyone had brought their baby (and no offense, but not all of them were girls.)
In fact, almost every single one of the friends that I have made since moving here has a baby (and/or child under the age of 4 which I guess is not technically a baby, but for the purpose of this…just go with it.) A lot of the time, it’s really apparent to me that I’m the odd one out. There are a lot of conversations where I find myself having nothing to contribute. And this is all completely understandable. Being a parent completely changes your life. I fully expect myself someday to want to talk about breastfeeding and cloth diapers or whatever, it’s just that I don’t really know that much about them now.
One upside of this situation is getting to hear lots of birth stories. I looooooove a good birth story. Or even not that great of one. Boring, dramatic, gory, whatever, I’m in. They are all so unique and amazing. People always think they’re going to freak out us non-moms with all the details and honestly it does seem incredibly daunting, but that doesn’t stop me from loving the stories.
Getting to know all the little guys around here makes me really happy. Sometimes there is nothing better than a warm snuggly baby falling asleep on you. It makes me excited about having our own kids someday. We have gotten to see our friend’s little girl change from a little barfing (but cute) baby to a crazy running around toddler who, like, recognizes us! So it means feeling guilty about asking people over to come over to our apartment. So it means I’m going to be left out of a few conversations and be a little jealous when all my mom friends go hang out together during the day. Mostly it is a really good thing, not to mention something that I couldn’t change even if I wanted to.
*I have been worrying ever since I clicked “publish” that this will come across as whiny and impatient. Ted and I are loving this part of our lives-last minute road trips and staying in bed until 10:30 on Sunday mornings. I am excited to hopefully have kids someday but for now I am feeling absolutely no rush. Also, I am so grateful for friends that will stay up late with us playing games or talking even if they have to get up early with their kids. *