Wednesday, January 5, 2011

The Horrible Warning

I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but I was the first of my friends to get married and have kids. I got married in September 2001 and Larry Potter was born September 2002. I know, I don't waste much time, do I?

Because of this, I have both forged my own path in the parenthood trails, and picked up new friends along the way who were also caulking and fording the river of diapers and bottles. (Does all this remind you of that old computer game "The Oregon Trail?" Because that's what I'm going for here. In 5th grade, my family always died via dysentery somewhere near the mountains. Luckily, my real family has been more fortunate.)

Oh crap. It's that really sucky player again. We're all going to die in 15 minutes.

But now, 8 years into parenting (yesterday was the 9 year anniversary of that first positive pregnancy test. Also 9 years ago? Disgruntled Husband's first panic attack.) a few of my childhood/high school/college friends are starting to catch up. And I find myself in a very amusing the old grandma rocking away, waiting for someone to ask for my wisdom.

This weekend is one of my best friend's baby shower. Last year, she got married and I went down for the wedding. I knew she must have been marrying the right guy because she talking about, and planning for, kids. Never before had I heard her comment that she wanted kids, and suddenly, it was on the radar. But I was surprised at just how fast that plane approached, because before I knew it, there was The Announcement.

It's a very strange thing to hear my friend (for now and forever more known as ESM...Even Snarkier Mom) talk about cribs and morning sickness and labor plans. Which it probably was for her 8 years ago to hear me talk about.

Along with ESM, I have friends in varying stages of trying, planning to try, and talking about planning to try. I'm the biggest baby pusher there is, and even when they aren't in any of these stages, I'm the obnoxious mother-in-law, asking when there will be pitter patter and suggesting my own name as a great baby name.

(One friend just told me that she and her husband are going to try very soon. Which put me in full pregnancy website knowledge mode, and I went so far as to tell her what I calculated her last upcoming period to be and what her due date will be. I haven't heard from her in a while.)

Oh yes, I'm quite annoying. But with a purpose. And you'd think it was so my friends could each experience the wonderful and life-changing fabulousness that comes with having a baby. But no. I'm afraid it's way more selfish than that. I just want someone in the boat with me. Because, after all, the world does revolve around me.
It's just something we all have to acknowledge.

And there's also the small matter of the garage. That would be, how I want it back, and someone better be taking these baby clothes off my hands. (A friend has a consignment shop, which helps.) I know why I had/have no all went to clothing my 3 little cherubs.

But I know all of my askings and annoyings and inappropriate questions come with a price. Many of friends read this blog, even the ones without kids. Just like every picture I post on Facebook of my kids making a mess, every time a childless woman reads this blog, another pack of birth control is purchased.

We went out with a friend Christmas Eve. It was her, me, DH, and three hyper, dressed up, hungry kids seated dead center at a round table in the middle of a busy diner. She and her husband don't have kids yet, and I'm thinking that meal means 18 more months of their blissful childless couple state. ::Smacking forehead::: If I just stop talking to her and seeing her for 2 or 3 months, maybe they'll momentarily forget about the time Hoover poured a gallon of milk into the kitty litter and other stories and have a reason to give them all my baby clothes decide it's time to start a family.

I've heard it said you either lead your life as a great example or a horrible warning. I'm pretty sure my childless friends see our family as option 2.

But I'll take being a horrible warning if it means more of my friends will start down the baby train. I calculate a baby boom in 2 years within my group of friends. Just in time for LP to start babysitting. That is, if they're all still speaking to me by then.


  1. I am the exact. same. way. As soon as I got pregnant I wanted everyone around me to start doing the same thing. The proverbial boat gets pretty lonely sometimes.

    But I have to remember to stop complaining about things like sleep deprivation, disgusting smells, and lack of free time if I ever want these people to procreate.

  2. Exactly! Only now, it's complaining about the mouthiness and dirty looks I get.

    Thanks for reading. :)