Wednesday, April 22, 2009


I love babies. Other people's babies, that is.

Chloe Ann: most laid back baby ever.

This brings me around to the topic I've visited before: not wanting my own little bundle of joy. I love cuddling them, dressing them and playing with them...I don't even mind feeding them, but then I give them back to their parents to do the dirty work and the actual parenting. I don't know if I would ever consciously choose to create something I would be responsible for rearing. I don't think I'm that selfless; I don't think I would be very good nor would I enjoy it as much as some people do.

This is why I've always taken great precaution to keep accidents from happening, and will continue to do so. Five years ago, it would have been pretty much the worst thing I could have imagined. Now, it is almost as if I wouldn't know what I would do until I was actually in the situation. I'm about to get married and I'll be 25 this September. Some people would even go as far as to call me an adult, even though most of the time, I don't feel like one.
I sort of hope to have this figured out in the next three years or so, because although I'm not sure if I'm up for having kids or not, I do know if I want to have them, it has to be in the next few years. I don't want to have a relationship like my mom and I did....not really liking each other until I moved out.

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