Beer & Bathtubs OR Poopy Diapers & Disneyland

My sister-in-law requested that I blog about sex or babies, or both.  And my husband told me I should blog about some of my “inner-demons”, the things I struggle with, you know…the not-so-pretty.  So OBVIOUSLY I decided to go with my sister-in-law’s request, because blogging about sex sounds fun.  But then I realized how public this blog is…and I suppose I should do my best to pick a more “appropriate” topic…at least for now.

So I went back to my sister-in-law’s request (clearly avoiding my husband’s request to publicly expose my dark and twisty) of blogging about babies.  It’s settled, I will blog about babies.  So I have a day off tomorrow and my husband is at work for the night, so I do my very favorite thing ever, I grab a few beers, make a bubble bath and indulge in some magazine reading…

My favorite magazines ever are the trashy gossip ones.  I LOVE LOVE LOVE reading about how fat Kim Kardashian is, which Real Housewife is getting divorced this week and why Lindsay Lohan got arrested for like the 70^th time.  BUT, this time, I grabbed a Redbook (my mom was over and she gave me a selection of Oprah, Good Housekeeping and Redbook…sometimes she brings me the good stuff, like People.  But this time she brought me grown-up magazines and so I decided to be a grown up and read Redbook).  I skimmed through the pages and landed on an article called “Feel A Little Happier Every Day”- and I started reading.  About halfway through I found myself rolling my eyes and guzzling my beer as fast as I could, wishing it were vodka.  If I have to read one more magazine article about how hard it is to be a mom and how much women hate their lives after they have kids, I am going to Lose.My.Shit.  This particular article was fascinating to me, because it is written by a lady who had her first baby at 41 and is now really stressed out with the whole “being a mom thing”.  She said that she and her husband really debated about having children, that the only reason they did it was because they were feeling stuck and it was just the next step. Society expected them to become parents, and so they did.  WHAT??? So you had a baby because everyone else was doing it (not because you had this overwhelming desire to create a life) you get to write an article about how becoming a mother is so incredibly depressing, making negative generalizations on behalf of all mothers.  Awesome.  Her article concluded with some BS statement about how she really thinks the peak of her happiness will come later in life, when she is retired and her children have left for college.  Again, awesome.  Glad you became a mom lady.  So after reading that and getting so worked up about it, my husband will get his wish…I will write a blog about my dark and twisty.  But it will be about babies…so my sister-in-law should be a happy camper!

I have wanted to be a mom since I was about five years old.  I have also been about 30 years old inside for a really long time.  Every choice I have ever made has been with a baby in mind.  I went to college so that I could financially support a family.  I married a man who will hands down be the most AMAZING father you have ever seen (no seriously).  I bought a nice big house with lots of bedrooms in a nice area, with amazing schools.  I saved my money.  I nurtured my marriage.  The list goes on.  So where is my baby?

I struggle every single day with becoming a mom.  I think about it more than I should.  I dream about it.  I worry about it.  I cry about it.  I melt in the baby isle at Target.  Something deep inside me starts exploding with flowers and unicorns when I see a onesie.  And I have put cute little baby shoes in my shopping cart before…and later have taken them out of my cart, because it’s crazy to buy baby shoes for a baby you don’t have.  The time is just never right for me and it makes me really sad. 

The number one reason I don’t feel ready is because my husband talks about it all the time (not as much as I do, but I think more than a typical man does) but he has flat out said to me “we aren’t ready yet”.  This crushes me every time I hear it, I fight back tears, I fight the urge to be mad, but I know he’s right.  His reasoning is that I just started a new career path that requires a lot of my time and he is working a lot right now and will have a more flexible schedule later in his career.  My argument to that would be that it takes couples on average, six months to get pregnant and nearly a year to cook a baby.  In a year and a half from this very moment…I do believe that a baby would be a welcome addition to our life.  Plus, you never know, what if we have trouble?  What if I can’t get pregnant?  I would LOVE to adopt…but that takes time too.  I don’t want to be that angry, bitter 35 year old who always dreamed of becoming a mom, finding out that it just wasn’t in the cards for me.  My biggest fear in life right now is waking up at 30, without cute little baby feet running around my house. 

With that said, it is also very important to me to have everything in place before bringing children into my life.  Do I continue working when we have a baby?  I think I am one of those people who NEEDS to work.  I’m not exactly Martha Stewart.  I made some “creation” for dinner the other night that was absolutely disgusting…staying home, doing laundry and baking…that’s just not my thing.  So where does my baby go when I go to work?  Daycare probably isn’t an option for me.  It gives me anxiety.  I cried when my dogs went to the groomers (in my defense, my dog was crying and dragging her feet, so I feel like it was okay for me to be upset too) but I know that I will be that mom who sits in her car and sobs like a 16 year old after dropping off my baby with a stranger.  I struggle with this a lot.  I am a planner.  I need to know where my baby is going to spend their time, before I even try to get pregnant.

Some of my biggest fears about becoming a mom stem from others.  This probably makes me the most upset (I’m working really hard to stop looking for approval from others, it’s a weird, insecure habit of mine and I am not fond of it).  I strongly believe that when we decide to have a baby, it should be a decision made between myself and my husband and no one else.  I read these magazine articles that say so many marriages fall apart after a baby is born, women become these depressed, unattached creatures and to have a career AND be a mom- forget it.  I am 100% sure that my marriage will experience a change after we become parents, but I don’t believe it will suffer.  And I do believe I can find the right balance between career and children.  Yet I still find myself begging for someone to tell me when it is “my time”. 

And now here’s the dark and twisty.  Every once in a while, I will have a day where I just cannot imagine taking care of a baby.  I come home from work and all I can think about is myself.  I sit in the bathtub, I drink a beer and I enjoy my peace and quiet.  In those moments, I cannot think of anything more perfect.  And every once in a while, I get absolutely wasted with my husband and I sleep in until noon.  And every once in a while, I book amazing vacations at pricey, kid unfriendly resorts and enjoy the finer things in life.  I love these things, I cherish them.  So what will my life be like if I come home from work and draw a bath for my baby because their diaper exploded.  And what will my life be like when I can only have one glass of wine at night because I have to be awake at 5 AM with my kids.  And what will my life be like if I book the Holiday Inn across the street from Disneyland for my “luxurious” vacation.  Well…I think my life would be perfect.  I think it would be amazing.  I think it would be beautiful.  To create a tiny human being with the man of my dreams, to love that little human being more than anything in this world, that sounds amazing to me.  One of my favorite things to tell my husband is that I loved him before I even knew him.  I cannot wait to tell my children one day how much I loved them, before I even knew them.  XOXO.

For the record, I would gladly trade beer and bathtubs for poopy diapers and Disneyland.  I cannot wait for that day to come.