Oh Baby

        About seven and a half years ago, I went to a friend's wedding.  As you might have already guessed, I was quite a bit younger back then- obvi.

Crimped my hair...sorry 'bout it.

        The day after the wedding, we went to have brunch and watch the happy couple open their presents.  I remember one of the gifts they received was a casserole dish, and the bride, Malora, seemed weirdly thrilled by this.  I sat there thinking, "Kill me if I ever get excited about a casserole dish.  When I get married, I'm asking for a new snowboard."  Actually, I think I might have said it out loud to our friend, Carly, and offended people.  I do that a lot by accident when I think I'm just saying things in my mind.  To my credit, I was only 23 years old.  Why wouldn't I want a snowboard?

       Last Saturday, I went to a baby shower for a friend.  It was a really nice event, considering I hate babies.  Just kidding, I really don't hate babies at all.  I work with them.  Sometimes I hold them.  Overall,  I would say I like them as a people group.  I just don't want one of my own.  Considering the shower goers were comprised of a minimum of three preggos, women who have already had at least one kid, and those who are planning on having kids, I felt like a giant alien face (which is funny, because, let's be honest all babies look like alien faces.)  If not an alien, I am pretty sure this makes me a horrible person.   

I do hold babies.  (I love this baby, PS.)

        I felt like a robot who hadn't been programmed to adore cute miniature baby booties or Onesies with silly expressions on them.  (Although, I did give Shandra a pretty hilarious Onesie with a blue ribbon on it that said, "Best in Show.") I leaned over to my friend Carly - yes, the same Carly from two paragraphs ago- and muttered, "Kill me if I ever get excited about a diaper bag."

         It makes me feel like there is something seriously wrong with me.  I wish I wanted a baby so that I could feel like a normal human.  Then again, I've been completely abnormal for thirty years, why start now?

Nachos on my face?  Maybe.

        I really don't believe I'm a horrible person, (no comments please) but I am a selfish person.  I'm totally set in my ways.  I go to Pilates twice a week.  I run at least three times a week.  I go to yoga on Sundays.  I get my nails done, my hair done, and my eyebrows waxed. Not to mention, Eric and I like living downtown, and we go to about 40 baseball games per season- none of this is conducive to having a miniature, helpless person tagging along.  But never mind these luxuries! Do you know what every new mother I know has told me at one point or another?  "I don't have time to shower any more."  You don't have time to- what the...?  Um, I kind of like showering, people.  Is that so wrong?!

        

        I know I sound like I'm whining, but it's good for me to feel like an alien robot sometimes.  It's a gift to be able to empathize.  Never felt like a heartless alien robot invading a baby shower?  Oh, no?  Well, ever felt like a freak for some reason or another?  We've all been there.  There's hope for all of us freaks, though, you know.  Seven years after I scoffed at my friends' cookware, I got married, myself.  Also, I got this really amazing  oval 6.75 quart cast iron french oven that  I just love.

Weirdly thrilling, no?