First of all, don't be pissy at me. I can't help it. I can't. I know you are tired of hearing about my kids. But I have a few (four is really more than 'a few', isn't it?). And they are my life. Sure, I emotionally scar them and I have been known to want to beat the hell outta them (but I've actually only done it a few times--and if you don't know me :I AM KIDDING!). But this blog is not as cool as E's ( http://www.myfuckingeye.com/weblog/ )...it's about ME. And my family. My family that is full of stubborn, spoiled brats. That are adorable and lovey and huggy and make me laugh my ass off on a daily basis. And roll my eyes. And envision ads placed in the local Thrifty Nickel...
But last night it hit me. I was breastfeeding Caden. He kept looking up at me, one chubby hand flat on my breast. kneading it. Then he would break into the biggest smile, pull off the nipple--breast milk squirting all over. Drooly-milk running down his chin. Then he would realize that his snack was literally pouring out and he would turn his head, left and right, back and forth and "jump" back on the boob. *This is my last baby*. My last Johnson & Johnson's perfumed, diapered, fuzzy haired baby. When he weans there will never be another child at my breast. My boobs are almost out of a job (unless they get a BOOB JOB--then Moonpie will find *something* for them to do). It is very likely that Calie will be the next Mother in our family. eeeek. YEARS from now. Years, I say.
My brother and his 'ho (I mean wife) can't have anymore (thank goodness). My sister, who is a wonderful Mommy, HAD to have surgery that left her infertile. That's who needs to have a baby! My sister!!! She should adopt. She should! Her husband is a great Daddy too. They DO things with their family--they have 2 boys. Camp. Go fishing. They have a freaking "farm" on their tiny piece of property. A hog. A goat. Several dogs. Usually cats (but not right now, I don't think). A turtle. Fish. Two ferrets. A big hampter thingy--a Guniea pig? They used to have a turkey. Oh! and chickens. What kid wouldn't want to live on Old McDonald's Farm!? And she is like, the homeroom mom. And the Boy Scout/Cub Scout Mom/Leader thingy. They are the most loving parents.
So, I gotta find her a baby. She (I) needs one. If I start looking for one now--I might be able to find one about the time Caden starts walking--then I wouldn't really be "baby free"--would I? I could still soak up all that 'fountain of youth' stuff that Frank on "Everyone Loves Raymond" is always talking about... Now instead of being depressed about all the baby things that Caden is growing out of... I can start imagining the NEXT baby in them. The little gowns. The tiny, fuzzy socks. The cute onsies.
I guess I should talk to my sister first, huh? Ask her what flavor she wants and all.
And I guess (when we win the lottery) I need to see about getting Moonpie 'snipped and clipped'--so that if we ever have sex again I won't turn up pregnate. Funny how 6 years ago we couldn't get pregnate--and now I can't keep from it. And yet that's what we need to do. Keep from it, I mean.
Now I gotta post about trying to have a baby...when you can't.