I think I’m very slowly coming round to the whole ‘baby’ thing. There’s somewhat of a baby boom happening between my real friends and my Facebook friends, and I’m kinda scared that it might be catching.
After spending 10 minutes scrolling through my Facebook and Instagram feeds and seeing nothing but babies and melted cheese, I crumbled interrupting Al from whatever film he was engrossed in, confessing that I thought my womb was doing things. You know, maternal-like things. This clearly wasn’t what he expected to hear as he immediately told me to pipe down and that now wasn’t really an appropriate time. I think he was scared that I’d pounce. I mean that seems a bit hasty to me, I’m not that ready.
Especially as this is the man who told me we’d be starting having kids as soon as we’re married, leaving me precisely 15 months to get my head round the idea. FYI, I thought that was too soon.
I do wonder though if my womb is focussing on the cute-baby factor and not really thinking this whole phase through. I’m not so sure that I’m ready to give up on sleep just yet. I still swear by 8 eight hours.
However I have gone and started a baby name list. Al and I have discussed names, with me every now and then blurting out “Olive” or “Penelope” when we’re in the middle of a conversation about what colour we should paint the bathroom wall. That’s got to be my womb talking. Rest assured I won’t be sharing any more for fear of having ‘my name’ stolen, Sex and the City style.
The one thing – there’s actually hundreds more reasons – putting me off is the fact that Al and I are both very hairy people. Al’s beard and my leg hair grow at such a ridiculous rate it’s a surprise we’re not flat broke with all the razor blades we need. Which means if we were to procreate we could have a very, very, very hairy sprog on our hands. So for now, my chastity belt remains firmly tightened.
P.S I’d like to point out how cute both Al and I above were as children. And how my nose has not changed since the day I was born.
P.P.S Please can everyone around me control themselves and stop having babies. I need to stop my womb feelings. Ta.
P.P.P.S I’m not pregnant. Nor will I be anytime soon. Parents, please control yourselves.