Something is going on. Something odd and weird and most unusual. You all know I am a self-centered high flautin' bit of a mé fein-er right? I like shoes and makeup and reading the papers and going to the gym, lounging and so on. I like eating out and drinking rum and complaining about things that make other people want to bash me over the head with their copy of 'Real Problems volume 8'
Right?
Well yesterday something very peculiar happened to me. I was in a shop, waiting patiently from my handmade pasta to be weighed. I was thinking about UGGS and whether or not I would ever buy a pair, I was mildly bored, a pleasant state I regularly find myself in, when suddenly I felt eyes on me.
I looked to my left.
And there, sitting in a buggy, wearing a pink furry sleeveless singlet and bright pink tights was the cutest baby I have ever clapped eyes on.
I was transfixed. She was transfixed. Her eyes were huge and deep blue, her cheeks chubby and pink, she had a tooth.
I tried a smile. She grinned back at me. My smile widened and she did this kind of...gurgly laugh. My hands twitched. I wanted to bend down pick her up and squeeze her like she was a French Bulldog Puppy.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!
What the hell?
Somewhere deep inside me a mechanism began to grind slowly to life. I felt it as clearly as I would feel some yob kick me in the shin. It was a very definite and-to my mind- audible, 'PING!'
I am...............I'm broody.
Oh I know I waffle on sometimes about my future fake sons and dogs and what not, but in my mind that's as real as Cabett Cove in Murder She Wrote, a cloudy daydream about some cloudy stuff in the cloudy future.
Then I go right on drinking rum, working long hours and going to tedious art gallery openings.
But this! This was different, I still feel it today. That little gurgling pink thing with the tooth, I want one!
Jesus Christ.
You are not alone!
ReplyDeleteYesterday I was minding my niece while my sister had to go to an urgent appointment. I was supposed to feed her and put her down for a nap....but I spent the entire time just staring at her! I think she was a bit freaked out to be honest. She went down without a word of protest into her buggy to be rocked to sleep, settled herself down, got all snuggly and then sat bolt upright in fear...she had sensed me staring wide-eyed and spookily at her!
But she's so pink! And soft! And snuggly! And she has teeth and a big smile, and gorgeous hazel eyes! And the wickedest laugh I've ever heard.And she smells...oh the smell! Warm milk and baby powder, just that sweet essence of baby!
GOD I want one! (Please, dear Jesus, let my boyfriend not come across this comment!)
What's it all about Kaz, what's it all about?
ReplyDeletePerhpas I'll call my older sister and offer to mind the kids for a while, that usually sorts out any view I might have on children.
Or perhaps I'll call the Paramour and see if he's feeling fecund.
Ah yes, the ol' maternal urges. I can't decide if they're actually outweighing my current cravings for brownies. I BAKED last night. Good Lord.
ReplyDeleteDamn you Sinead with a fadha Gleeson and your tempting biscuit talk. I"m about to meet a friend for lunch and I believe I shall indeed have to nibble some kind of crumbly cookie type thingy now.
ReplyDeleteHey! It's snowing!
Hi, well done all concerned on reaching the broody stage. I hate my new job. No internet freedom and the Manager is a complete wagon head. I'm typing this in an internet cafe as I refuse to sit at my desk during lunch :(
ReplyDeleteI imagine you have as much chance of fighting this new-found maternal desire as has your paramour when you begin the long process of Wearing Him Down that will inevitably ensue.
ReplyDeleteI am speaking from worn-down experience.
I also feel it only right to share some of my other related experiences. There's the pee and the cack of course. The vomit. The sleeplessness. There's the worry that you'll hold them wrong and their head will fall off (an anxiety dream that I had regularly during my spouse's pregnancy). There's the tantrums and the chicken pox. The nosebleeds that are caused by not taking their tiny fingers out of their tiny nose when they trip over.
There is the cuteness though of course. Damn that cuteness. She has me wrapped around her tiny, bloody, two-year old finger.
FMC, do you have an email thingymebob?
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteOh Jimmy, two year olds would break your heart would they not. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteCate, so sorry the new job is wreaking your head, it must have some good points though surely, more cash, better prospects...stuff like that.
A friend sent me a picture of her 8 month old boy the other day. Big round face, happy grin, devilish expression in the eyes, bright ginger hair... made me want one myself. Almost.
ReplyDeleteCan I get a ginger clause in the genetic coding before I start the process?
The nosebleeds that are caused by not taking their tiny fingers out of their tiny nose when they trip over.
ReplyDeletedoes one ever grow out of this phase?
just curious.
All you lassies are scaring the bejaysis out of me.
ReplyDeleteTrust me, those little monsters aren't cute. They're peeing, shiting, screaming mortgages.
Mind you, me Ma says the first 30 years are the worst. After that, it's not so bad.
Don't worry about the gingerfication of babies. I was born a ginger minger and I have deep auburn coloured hair these days.
ReplyDeleteNo, Cat. I WANT the ginger. Always had a thing for redheads. I'm quite serious. Dyed my hair brassy red for years, until I realized that there's no need...my natural color is red enough...a lovely chestnut that becomes strawberry blond in summer. So there's hope!
ReplyDeleteToo late JC Skinner, there's brooding afoot! Little pudgy babies smelling of baby powder and gurgling, possibly with dimples....damn them, they're too bloomin' cute to be resisted forever.
ReplyDeleteAh! Good, I saw a little chap last Saturday in Elephant and Castle that you would have stolen if you had spotted him, about three, ginger as ginger can be with a smattering of freckles over his button nose and the bluest eyes ever. God he was gorgeous.
ReplyDeleteFuck, I really am in trouble here.
FMC, can you hear my laughter all the way from California? Nature is screwing with you, as Nature will. It's those URGES that are built into human kind in order to keep the species going. Don't expect it to pass.
ReplyDeleteAnd to borrow the US Army's slogan "It's the hardest job you'll ever love."
Can you send them back if they're ginger?
ReplyDeleteYou're a fine on to talk, did you send bits of your beard back?
ReplyDeleteIs that what that sound was Bonnie?
Oh say it ain't so Missus, surely this new longing must pass?
Screw you nature, don't go messing with me, I'm too long in the tooth for messing.
Oh but she gurgled so adorably...
I have 3 kids. I'll sell you one.
ReplyDeleteHave you got a dimply one that gurgles?
ReplyDeleteBoy do I. Totally cute gurgly just passed one year old. However I like that one, I'll actually give away the 3 year old female one. Unbelievably cute, but can be a total toddler pain in the ass. Makes up for it by randomly wandering up to you to tell you that she loves you.
ReplyDeleteYou know you are totally screwed now. It's the beginning of the end of life as you know it :)
awwwwwww, that's too cute for words, how could you stay cross at them when they do that?
ReplyDeleteI'm screwed.
Of course, according to an opinion I read recently, this will scupper you plans for having a French bulldog
ReplyDeleteAh, cat, you make me grin widely and toothily. It is a most insistent feeling, isn't it? Watch out for lingering in the baby aisle of the supermarket and pastoral dreams of any sort. Also, pay attention to any urges you might have to clean out cupboards for this is not merely a random fit of organisation, it is nest building.
ReplyDeleteBut this next, is the most important: do not bury your nose into any baby's hair until you're sure you can handle it. It's crucial not to because that's the point-of-no-return when occurring after the symptoms you've described, and your stirrings will become an ache, an all-encompassing ache that will make you forget your dry-cleaning on more than one occasion.
In the meantime, my broody darling, take two folic acid tabs, open a bottle of wine (enjoy it now while you can!) and enjoy the mysteries of the human psyche.
Frenchies are small dogs Kim, not the big chaps, and I would practice what I preach and keep the kiddies and the muttleys separate until they were all old enough to have a bit of respect for each other.
ReplyDeleteSam, for the first time in an age I was able to access your site today-although it looked odd and there was only print, and naturally, gleefully I read you latest post, up to and including the double vomiting children and it did NOTHING to dampen my sense of 'ahhhh, poor babies'.
So now I am truly worried. I might just go look at my shoe collection for a while, that normally helps.
Have come down with a bit of that disease myself too FMC - world's least maternal person hit 30 then Boom! Hormones a go-go.
ReplyDeleteSo I stuck pictures of two of my friend's new babies up on the fridge to try get the fella going googley-eyed as well. It backfired. He peered at them and said "My God they're horrible!" I wouldn't mind but one of them is even ginger!
It had just GOT to be something in the water Caro.
ReplyDeleteIt's Spring people - mating season...!
ReplyDeleteEscaped your notice eh? All good celts should be out there rutting as the mood takes them, get the babbies born in autumn when the harvest is in and you can keep everyone fed through the winter.
I do recommend it myself, the pregnancy thing I can do without, there's no joy in constipation and veiny boobs but the end result is just divine and really does get better each day, mine can now crack jokes, tell you what he dreamed about - very weird - and yes just like JMc up there spontaneously run to you with arms outstretched to tell you that he loves you vewy vewy much Mummy.
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