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No, I Don’t Want His Baby
What is it with people and babies? I mean, they’re great. I had 3. They’re men now. In fact, they’re 32, 29 and 27 and they don’t even want babies.
So, why ask me about babies?
Oh, I know, because 9 or so years ago, I rekindled a relationship with my high school sweetheart. So, I divorced my ex and of course, a new man must mean I want a new baby, right? Surely, I want to be impregnated with his seed so we can bring forth a little version of us, right?
Ummmm, no.
When we got together, I was 42 or 43. My kids were all adults. I was done. I mean D.O.N.E done. Love my kids, glad they are out of my damn house. Loved them when they were little. Love them while they’re big. But I can’t go back.
Raising babies was a stage I went through. I wasn’t very good at it. I wasn’t a good stay at home mom. I tried. I wanted to strangle Barney. I missed adult conversation. But I did it until I went to work.
Work, and school and kids. And I did it. I did it gladly because that’s what you do. But, I’m tired. I remember the steps. First, I was grateful when everyone could walk. Then, I was happy when everyone was old enough to go to the park and play on their own while I sat on a bench.
