Halo Veronica!

Today’s Daily Post prompt asks us where we would go if we could set life aside for awhile and go to live with a family anywhere in the world. My answer is kind of boring to most of you, I guess, but I’m going to say it anyway. I would go to Croatia and stay with friends.

One of my best friends, Katie, is having a baby sometime in the next week or so. It’s her first child, a daughter to be named Veronica. I’m so happy for her, and can’t wait to meet my new niece. But since Katie lives on the other side of the world, it might be a year or more before I get to see either her or Veronica, and that kind of tugs on my heart strings.

For the last few days, I’ve been remembering how lovely it was to be with my other best friend Trinity when her son was born. It’s been amazing to have a solid visual memory of Leo literally from Day 1. I’d really love to have that opportunity with Veronica, too. I guess I’ll have to make up for it by sending really awesome toys, and hoping for photos.

Aunt Almost

I’m an only child. Just one daughter for my parents – one chance at creating someone to carry on their legacy. It was a choice that was made mostly for financial reasons, and also because my dad, ever the big talker, said something stupid. He combined the words ‘girl’ and ‘mistake,’ and my mom immediately decided she’d never have another child.

Fine for me – I liked being alone. Scorpios are loyal folk who love their friends and family to a fault, but like our namesake scorpion, we’re our best in solitude. I operate at my highest capacity when I’m able to be around a few folks I love every few days, while spending the bulk of my time in my own head, working out puzzles and thinking up magic.

There’s only one major problem with being an only child – I’ll never be an aunt. It’s a weird problem to have, or maybe it’s just a weird problem of which to conceive. But it is troubling. I’ve never really wanted to be a mom. I might eventually become one, and I’m sure once that happens, things will change and my heart/mind will expand considerably. However, for the last few years, I’ve been thinking about how cool it would be to be an aunt. I love my friends’ kids, and The Man has a little niece who is just the cutest thing ever. But no matter how much I get to know them, buy them presents, spend time hanging out and enjoying their little-person-ness, I’ll never be much more to them than the lady they see fleetingly throughout their childhoods. I’ll never be a real aunt.

Today my best friend Trinity is having a baby. Her water broke at 5am CST, and she’s in labor now. This baby already hit the jackpot in so many ways – two amazing parents who will shower him or her with love and magic, a huge extended family with lots of aunts and uncles and cousins, and probably more brothers and sisters down the line, too. I’m leaving town tomorrow to drive to Austin and welcome in the new year with Trin and her new addition. I will be Auntie Anna. This kid is the closest thing I’ll ever have to a real niece or nephew, because Trin is the closest thing I’ll ever have to a real sister.

I’m going to have to be happy with being the Almost Aunt. I’m excited to hold this baby, to shower it with just a little more love, to imagine that one day I’ll be able to do just one thing that bonds us that extra bit, and gets rid of the Almost. We’ll see.

Day #37: Wrap Up

It’s time to go to bed, but before I do I want to post my calories from the day. I’m worn out. The in laws (elder and younger) came today, along with The Man’s little niece, who turns out to be quite adorable and not too irritating. I still prefer my quiet life with cats to having an excitable youngster in the house, but it was much more pleasant of a visit than I’d originally anticipated. OK, it’s time to pass out. Did well tonight, but I’m worn out now. Gonna go get in my Zaggora Hot Pants and hit the hay…

Day #37: The Hot Room Double Down

Whew! I finally went back to the studio yesterday, and class wasn’t too bad for having been away for a five day stretch. It was supposed to be a double day (to make up for all the classes I missed over the last week) but I didn’t make it to morning class, only afternoon. No worries, though – I’m doing a double today and tomorrow to start the process of catching up. To make it “official,” I even put together a Google calendar of all the doubles I’ll have to do to end the 30 Day Challenge on a high note.

Talking about high notes, wanna know something weird? Before class today, I weighed in at 159.2 lbs, which makes sense given that I’ve been almost a week without exercise. However, after class I weighed in just out of curiosity since I’d sweated what seemed to be an abnormal amount for me, and I was 155.4 lbs – almost 4 lbs lighter! It’s crazy to think that I sweated out 4 lbs of water in my morning Bikram class. Even crazier, I wonder if I’ll even be able to sweat anything out in the afternoon class. I ate a pretty good lunch of steamed veggies w/ cheese sauce, and a Plant Fusion chocolate shake (made with a banana and almond milk to give me extra strength in class), so hoping I’ve got enough electrolytes in my system to survive the second class without getting sick afterwards.

Tonight I’m going to meet The Man’s 1-year-old niece for the first time. She and her parents live in Florida, and I haven’t seen them in over two years now. It’ll be nice to get together again, but I’m a bit apprehensive. The Man’s parents, brother, sister-in-law, a baby, The Man AND me in our teensy tiny apartment is going to be nerve-wracking, to say the least. Plus, the house isn’t baby-proofed, it hasn’t been cleaned since last week, and where on earth are the cats going to hide from the baby? Miss Isabel will NOT be happy. But then honestly, neither will her mother. I’m just not as psyched about being an aunt as I seem to be expected to be, and I’m pretty sad that there’s so much pressure to be in love with this baby that’s not even related to me. It just seems so fake, but of course I seem like a heartless monster if I do anything but act delighted to be hostess. Argh. Wish I had another yoga class to go to so I could just escape the whole evening…

The Baby Conundrum

For most of my youth, I was fervently against having children. The very idea sounded pretty damn awful, and when a good friend got pregnant in high school, it kind of sealed the deal for me that there was no way I wanted to have kids. I didn’t put a ‘NEVER’ on the idea, knowing that one day I’d most likely change my mind, but I also never really dug other people’s kids, either. Babies smell weird, aren’t half way as adorable as people seem to think they are, they get awesome right around 5 to 7 years old, and then grow out of it to be little monsters until you can legally boot them out when they’re 18. So what’s the deal with making more of them?

Sometime around my 27th birthday or so, I started thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to settle down and have a rugrat of my own. Somewhere in there, my imaginary family grew to three or four kids, plus some kind of large, sweet dog (my imaginary family lives somewhere in the woods of Maine, in case you were wondering). I would bake cookies for them, and they’d build a tree fort and somehow not end up breaking any bones in the process. The girls would kickbox and go rock climbing. The boy would be the artsy, non-sporty, musician type that The Man and I would have arguments over (The Man would want him to play baseball, but Son would HATE team sports) and then we’d finally agree on letting him try out for the track team when he wasn’t playing with the school band or entering student art competitions. My imaginary family just has big blank holes where the issues should be, other than that one. Thus, I could safely imagine myself becoming a mother and not killing any of my young.

Then last year, my sister in law got pregnant. It was unexpected, but still a welcome occasion. The family went nuts when my niece was born – she’s the first grandchild, and quite the little beauty, all chubby cheeks and dimpled knees. I haven’t met her in person yet, but I’ve seen my fair share of photographs, and she looks nice enough. Somewhere along the way, though, something happened. I changed my mind. Looking at my niece has made me realize how very un-ready I am to have kids. Though my body is quickly passing it’s sell-by date, and the time will come when I’ll no longer be able to safely conceive, I just don’t want to have a baby yet. I still feel just as grossed out by babies as I did when I was a child. I don’t want to hold one. I don’t like the way they smell, the work involved with caring for them, the stupid little tights and headbands girls wear, or the screaming and nonsense talk. It’s just not my scene. Not at all.

I talk to all of my friends about their kids; the friend who had a gorgeous little girl our senior year of high school is now watching her finish up Jr. High. I have another friend with two sets of twins (madness, I tell you), who tells me all about mommyhood and how wonderful it is – but none of her stories sound fun at all. I love hearing them, since I love my friend, but it’s just not my cuppa. Another mom friend has an awesome, pretty chill little boy who’s just hitting the naughty stage. I couldn’t handle one tantrum. No idea how she’s handling one every couple of days. No idea how other parents with more high strung kids handle screaming multiple times a day.

And so it is that I’m trying to talk myself into having a baby in a few years, because it’s expected of me, because that’s been the grand plan since The Man and I met, because it’s just what people my age do. But I don’t want one. A voice deep down whispers that maybe I’ll be unable to, and I’ll get off on a technicality. Another voice whispers that I’ll be a better, fuller person when I’m a mom, and this time of selfishness will be forgotten. I’ve decided to let them duke it out. In a few years I’ll revisit the question. I have got time. My ovaries aren’t going to shrivel up and fall out while I’m busy enjoying what’s left of my youth.

Hopefully, anyway.