Family Planning

29 Apr

We’re a strange little nuclear family. Mom, Dad, 2.5 kids – only around these parts the kids are The Dog and The Cats. Together the cats don’t quite count as one each: one is very little and one is pretty slow. Marshall jokes she forgets to breathe, would drown in a mist, etc. The cats aren’t stupid, just inbred. And they’re cute, so who cares?

I’ve been anti-baby since I was ten. Babies for everyone but me, sure. As I got older and friends and family started having kids I was baby-friendly as long as I could give them back and didn’t have to touch poop. A few weeks ago, Marshall dropped the bomb that he wants to have kids, at least A kid. I’ve been weighing it. If it’s going to happen it’s got to be in the next two years so I can still get my pre-baby figure back with relative ease and still be a relatively young mom. My mom had me when she was 20, so what counts as ‘young mom’ to me might be a little extreme.

It’s been on my mind a lot this week as I play my monthly guessing game of whether it’s my impending shark week or a baby growing inside me that is making me cry uncontrollably at everything and only want to eat nachos. It should be another five days before I can legitimately worry, but the thoughts are there.

I ate a burrito when I couldn’t locate nachos (the only place to get them just burned down last week) and now there is…what can only be described as a burrito baby gestating in there. Only instead of making me crazy and hungry I just want to lay down on the couch with the little kitty, watch Bones, and rub my belly.


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