Baby hungry

It's time to be honest with myself. I'm baby hungry.

I don't know what's gotten into me the last few weeks. Every time I drop the kids off at daycare, I spend a good 20 minutes trying to get all the real babies to smile at me. Or stop crying.... it just depends on the day.

Then my cousins came over for a visit and had to bring their 7 month-old baby, Haze, with them! How dare they bring a squishable, chunky, smiley, happy, adorable baby boy into my home! Don't they know what they're doing to me? I wanted to keep him!

Haze.My baby.
Haze sucking his toes.My baby with frosting all over his face.Haze with a gummy smile and those chubby cheeks and legs. My babies and their jumping legs right in the middle of the only puddle in the entire parking lot. Proceeded by laying down flat on his tummy in the middle of the puddle. Haze.You get the idea.

But the last straw was selling my glider rocker. I almost backed out of the sale and probably would have, had it not been for the lady telling me it was a gift for her sister who was having her first baby and who really wanted a glider rocker but couldn't afford a new one. I'd been telling myself for a good six months that we just didn't have room to keep it anywhere in our 100+ year-old house now that it wasn't a necessity for nursing. I tried prepping for the day when it'd actually be gone but even the $60 (a screaming deal considering it was in excellent condition and the matching ottoman had NEVER been used) didn't make me feel any better when I saw it driving away. It was too late before I realized I don't have a single picture of me with either one of my babies rocking in it. That's when I did cry. I know it's just a chair but there were four years of memories wrapped up into it. Every time I saw it, I remembered all those quiet moments in the wee hours of the morning with just my babies. No one else was awake, we were all alone in their quiet, peaceful room, rocking and rocking. Those are the memories I wish you could capture on camera...

So yeah, I admit it. I'm baby hungry.

But so as not to get anyone's hopes up (or encourage Jeff to high-tail it out of here), I am NOT pregnancy hungry. There's a difference. Especially for all my 9-month-puking, just send me to the mental hospital or put me in a coma, IV-pumping, Zofran loving moms who despite what they always tell you, DO remember all the vomiting, barfy taste in your mouth 24/7 for 40 weeks, get REALLY sick friends out there. You know who you are.

I'd have a dozen kids if I could just go through labor and delivery, but the previous 40 weeks, no thank you! I guess I'll have to come to terms with the fact that my baby is all grown up.