Sunday, March 2, 2014

I have a confession

Up until a few months ago, I’ve had mixed feelings toward pregnancy and babies. It’s almost impossible not to think about when your Instagram and FB feeds are chock full of photos, and there have been times when I’ve unfollowed friends because they’ve just gotten way out of control. Note: delivery photos from the neck up are one thing, but does the world really need to see video footage of what’s going on in there? AH NO. Not to mention my thoughts on the lack of discipline running rampant in today’s society and many mothers’ cavalier and entitled attitude toward their snotty little shits (cut to me eyeballing a kid in church and doing the finger across the throat motion). But then I met a close friend’s baby and while she divulged the horrors of childbirth and everything that leaks and comes flying out, etc., I held her little daughter in my arms and I felt the same warm feeling I usually get when I know I’m going to happy hour. Yes, she was sleeping and not pooping or screaming her lungs out but just holding this little bundle of perfection moved me on the inside. I chalked it up to a moment of weakness and went about my business…until I had to buy a gift for a dear friend’s baby shower. My second only baby shower. Is that weird? Because when I told people that, they looked at me like I had a third eye. I’ve also never been a bridesmaid, but I don’t really have any regrets about that because instead of fulfilling obligations I had the freedom to make out with hot bartenders in freezer units. I digress. I pride myself in getting awesome, thoughtful gifts so I knew I didn’t want to look at the registry. Instead I opted for skull and bones diapers from the Honest Company (which is Jessica Alba’s organic line), a pack of Golden Books (hello, old school) and my favorite, a onesie with the Chicago flag on it (for a boy). Wrapping the gifts up was one thing, but walking into the restaurant where the shower was held was another. I don’t know if I was prepared to feel a certain way or not, but when I walked in I saw my girl smiling and I was filled with happiness for her. While the other women drank tea and soda I ordered up a mimosa, but I didn’t even feel uncomfortable being likely the only single woman in the room. Instead I focused on my friend and posed with her for photos, played games and watched her open gifts. She looked so beautiful and sweet, and I know she’ll make a great mom. Of course it’s not just these two events that have had me thinking about life and motherhood in general. Obviously life can change in an instant and with my mom being sick, there have been thoughts like “well what if she’s not around?” But I try not to focus on those so much as I do on thoughts of her enjoying being a grandmother. Because yes, I admit, despite how vile some of the things you have to do for them or what you have to give up, having a little chitlin is definitely on my to-do list. Of course, there are still plenty of happy hours to attend, but I can honestly say I can’t wait until I meet the little mini-me. Or me's. After all, who else is going to live out my dream of being a professional dancer and clean my house for me?

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