Lately I’ve been thinking about having babies. Not the act of giving birth because I try not to think about a baby streching my body in various ways, then ripping a path through to exit.
I think about the onesies I want to buy for my child, and how me and my hubby will go to the park, and church and family events with our little bundle.
I imagine the baby blowing its warm breath on my face and pulling my ear and hair and gripping my cheek. I envision its toothless grin and its even breaths as it falls asleep in my arms. I’m even looking forward to being slobbered on.
I look forward to the baby pulling itself up and making those baby noises as it bangs its hand on the table in joy at its accomplishment.
I haven’t given much thought to the countless diapers, and baby burps smelling of sour milk. Nor the yelling. I’m hoping for a happy, friendly warm, chubby baby, that goes to strangers without crying and looks at them and laughs. I don’t want any standoffish or shy babies. My guy says that all depends on us, and how the baby see’s us interact with people.
I want my baby to be bohemian like its mommy and go without shoes or socks. I want baby A to wear diapers and a t-shirt each day. But my guy says the baby will need clothes.
The guy and I have agreed to time pre-babies. Plus we gotta move here before the chil’ren arrive. Life in a nice black enclave.
Is there anyone else who gets more excited about the neighborhood than the house? The houses there are well built and charming but I’m more interested in the cute, nice area.