by Karen Frazier, Managing Editor
Paranormal Underground e-Magazine
Visit Karen’s paranormal blog.
I just got the opportunity to buy baby clothes. Girl baby clothes.
When I was young, I always thought that I’d have a ton of kids – at least four or five with a few girls tossed in there. Instead I had one boy and married into another. That’s it. While I could still technically have more children, why on earth would I want to? I’m 43. I’d be ancient by the time I actually got kids out of the house.
Plus, there’s the whole aspect of raising girls. My sisters both have girls. I was a girl once. From what I can tell, boys are MUCH simpler. Their clothes aren’t as cute, but it’s a trade-off. But I still love girl clothes. And baby clothes. And babies.
When I had Tanner, my boss’s wife, Sally (who was also my next door neighbor), went nuts. I had him at home on the couch (intentionally – but there was a midwife present), and Sally was at the house within ten minutes of his birth. For months, she would show up almost daily with gifts. Tons and tons of gifts. Much of Tanner’s baby stuff was from Sally. She also would babysit him at every opportunity she got.
Now I get it. Sally was about the age I am now at the time. Her kids were ages seven and up. Just because I understand the practicality of not having kids after a certain age doesn’t mean that there isn’t always a part of me considering it. Intellectually, I know it would be madness (the kids would outnumber us! We’re old! Do I really want to be 62 before I get kids out of the house?), but emotionally….c’mon – it’s a baby!
There’s a reason why so many women go crazy for babies. They are cute. They are tiny. You get to buy cute little clothes, soft little blankies and good smelling lotions and soaps. But, at a certain point in our lives, we come to the realization that babies are probably no longer in our best interests. So who do I dress up then? I’m too old to play Barbies. Right?
In my case, my options have come down to my dogs or other people’s babies. Jim’s co-worker’s wife just had a little girl, and I went nuts at the baby store. Cute little ruffly dresses. Teeny tiny socks. Little baby flip flops (seriously!), soft little blankets. I’m feeling pretty satisfied in the baby department right now.
My baby is now taller than me. He has a deep voice and fuzz on his upper lip. He no longer lets me pick out his clothes. What’s a mom to do?
Bring me your babies, ladies. I’ve become my neighbor, Sally. I’ll play with them. I’ll shop for them. And then, at the end of the day, I’ll send them home with you. It doesn’t get any better than that.