I got to meet my friend’s little munchkin for the first time. He’s pretty adorable. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a week-old baby before, but they are amazingly small, cute little things. Or maybe it’s just him. I thought I had the great motherly gift, holding him close and walking around with him a bit to give daddy a break when he was fussy. Worked for a while until my arms got tired, and I had to change positions for a while. Then the whimpering and wailing commenced.
It’s certainly a full house now with the siblings and the added little one. I tell you, the older I get, the more I think I probably won’t have any kids. First of all, I feel much like a kid myself; I’m still exploring my surroundings. And second, it just seems like an awful lot of work and an awful lot of time. I like my time. . .
Funny, though, when my boyfriend and I said the other day that we realistically wouldn’t have any kids, I immediately felt a hole open up inside me. It seriously felt like something inside me had died. I mean, I’ve never known if I wanted babies or not, but I guess I knew the option was always there. I don’t know if I’m ready to close and lock that door forever.
But, whatever we do decide, there are certainly no babies in my near future, and I’m really going to appreciate my extra sleep, peace, and quiet tonight.