O_o
I have babies on the brain.
I don't WANT to have babies on the brain, but there they are.
I dreamt last night that I had a perfect, beautiful little girl. Only one person was there when she was born, and I don't even remember who that was. Not somebody important, at any rate. And then it went all silly sci-fi, and it destroyed a beautiful moment with stupid fear.
I know WHY I've been thinking about babies. But I really wish I would stop. I think a huge part of it is because I think Katie and her new husband are trying for one, and that just totally fried my brain. Not because they shouldn't, or because the baby won't be 100% adorable, which it will, but just because it puts things in different perspective. Erin has four, probably going to be cooking number five pretty soon. April has one. Cathie has two. I think, maybe, it's because our three musketeers had yet to conceive. We haven't really been that for many years, but the feeling is still there. Sisters united. Having been the first to be married, that doesn't feel like such a big step to me. Having a baby, though...that's huge. Getting married is just solidifying that which you've hopefully done for some time prior to the ceremony - it's not really a change. A baby means adulthood, even if one is not really an adult (reference two of the above mentioned mommies). A baby changes *everything.* Change and Holly are not always on speaking terms.
I haven't wanted a baby for months and months. The desire was completely and utterly transplanted out of me. My present circumstances, getting ready to pick up my life and try again, is not exactly conducive to the infant way of life. And yet, all it took was one stupid dream to bring it back.
And it's really weird, but every time I think about friends who have kids, I feel really sad. Mostly because we've lost touch, but also because I won't have the opportunity to be a part of their lives (both the mothers/fathers and the children) during the little kid phase. Like my dad's secretary/VP was in ours...only better. I'm sure Erin's kids have a boatload of 'aunties' and 'uncews' to make their lives more stable and joyful, but I still miss being one of them. I spent a lovely afternoon with her when the first one wasn't even a year old, I met the second at April's wedding, and that's it. Maybe it's because my second-tier family was so small, or because my dad was adopted, or because my cousin Eric isn't really my cousin in any legal sense of the word, but I've always had a sort of pride in making one's own family from those who mean the most.
Maybe I'm just being a nostalgic nutter. That's one of my problems with making friends, after all. I have acquaintances, and I have family. There isn't really much in between. I never really feel as if I've lost a friend when they're not around anymore...we've just put each other on a shelf for a little while. Which is, of course, why when I have to say goodbye to one it has to be in some huge, rather dramatic way. Without the emotional explosion (usually very well grounded in circumstance and cause), I'd never be able to let go. Though I don't lose friends, I do lose time with family and experiences to share.
Maybe it's because of the whole born in the week of the system-builders thing, or...you know...whatever...but for a big portion of my life I've attempted to build a community around myself, one conversation at a time. One little hometown that can grow and change, but will always have at least one door open for tea and cake when someone needs it.
......
::blink::
..........
No wonder I feel so completely depressed when I'm isolated...or that I can't seem to make a home out of any apartment, even when I really, really want to. Huh.
I don't WANT to have babies on the brain, but there they are.
I dreamt last night that I had a perfect, beautiful little girl. Only one person was there when she was born, and I don't even remember who that was. Not somebody important, at any rate. And then it went all silly sci-fi, and it destroyed a beautiful moment with stupid fear.
I know WHY I've been thinking about babies. But I really wish I would stop. I think a huge part of it is because I think Katie and her new husband are trying for one, and that just totally fried my brain. Not because they shouldn't, or because the baby won't be 100% adorable, which it will, but just because it puts things in different perspective. Erin has four, probably going to be cooking number five pretty soon. April has one. Cathie has two. I think, maybe, it's because our three musketeers had yet to conceive. We haven't really been that for many years, but the feeling is still there. Sisters united. Having been the first to be married, that doesn't feel like such a big step to me. Having a baby, though...that's huge. Getting married is just solidifying that which you've hopefully done for some time prior to the ceremony - it's not really a change. A baby means adulthood, even if one is not really an adult (reference two of the above mentioned mommies). A baby changes *everything.* Change and Holly are not always on speaking terms.
I haven't wanted a baby for months and months. The desire was completely and utterly transplanted out of me. My present circumstances, getting ready to pick up my life and try again, is not exactly conducive to the infant way of life. And yet, all it took was one stupid dream to bring it back.
And it's really weird, but every time I think about friends who have kids, I feel really sad. Mostly because we've lost touch, but also because I won't have the opportunity to be a part of their lives (both the mothers/fathers and the children) during the little kid phase. Like my dad's secretary/VP was in ours...only better. I'm sure Erin's kids have a boatload of 'aunties' and 'uncews' to make their lives more stable and joyful, but I still miss being one of them. I spent a lovely afternoon with her when the first one wasn't even a year old, I met the second at April's wedding, and that's it. Maybe it's because my second-tier family was so small, or because my dad was adopted, or because my cousin Eric isn't really my cousin in any legal sense of the word, but I've always had a sort of pride in making one's own family from those who mean the most.
Maybe I'm just being a nostalgic nutter. That's one of my problems with making friends, after all. I have acquaintances, and I have family. There isn't really much in between. I never really feel as if I've lost a friend when they're not around anymore...we've just put each other on a shelf for a little while. Which is, of course, why when I have to say goodbye to one it has to be in some huge, rather dramatic way. Without the emotional explosion (usually very well grounded in circumstance and cause), I'd never be able to let go. Though I don't lose friends, I do lose time with family and experiences to share.
Maybe it's because of the whole born in the week of the system-builders thing, or...you know...whatever...but for a big portion of my life I've attempted to build a community around myself, one conversation at a time. One little hometown that can grow and change, but will always have at least one door open for tea and cake when someone needs it.
......
::blink::
..........
No wonder I feel so completely depressed when I'm isolated...or that I can't seem to make a home out of any apartment, even when I really, really want to. Huh.