Thursday, August 9, 2012

Mags Won't Wear a Diaper or "The Point In Which This Blog Takes a Frightening Turn"

I was never really sure if I wanted kids, granted Rob already had a child when we met, but even pre-Rob I never really saw myself wanting children. I loved my animals and wouldn't mind a house full of them but kids were different. They were loud and stinky and kind of creepy. My friends will tell you, I used to hate kids. They would be running around all over the place in stores, I would get easily aggravated and even try to trip the little buggers at times. It was such a well known trait of mine, even one of my high school teachers was shocked the first time she saw me working in the children's department. Rob and I had talked about kids and he was pretty much fine with whatever, I still haven't figured out if he is just scared to voice his opinions to me or if he is really that indifferent to everything on Earth. Either way, we had talked about it and for a long time we thought maybe having kids just wasn't for us.

So imagine both our surprise when out of the blue, around age 23 1/2 or so, I suddenly felt the urge to have a small bundle of our own. For about a year and a half I slowly came around to wanting a baby, on one condition. It had to be a girl. I did not want a boy, whatever I had to do to have a girl I would do. I would research all sorts of things from diets, times of conception, genetic mapping, whatever I could think of. If I were to go through all of the work to have a baby and it end up being a boy, I would be completely and utterly devastated.
Then came the dream, I don't think I will ever forget it either. It was so intense and life changing that even the following day at work I felt like this whole new world had opened up to me. In my dream, I had twins, a beautiful, sweet, darling little girl and a boy. I was giving them a bath and there was no one around. My dream-self lifted the little girl out and wrapped her in a nice, warm, cozy towel, I then turned to the little boy. I looked at him for a little while and then I lifted him out of the bath and wrapped him in a towel of his own. Then I woke up. Now this dream might not seem like an epiphany to you but it blew my mind. I called called Rob immediately and told him my dream, he had no idea why I was so surprised with this seemly innocent and dull dream. "Because!!" I told him "I didn't drown the baby boy!!"

Ok, now that I freaked everyone out, I need to explain once again how much I did not want a boy. I don't know why but I really, REALLLY did not want a boy. I honestly have no idea where this fear or whatever it was came from. My brain just has a lot of unexplained issues, I felt about boy babies the same way some people feel about pet snakes. If you want a boy child in your house, feel free, just keep it kenneled up while I'm over. Looking back, I feel awful but that won't change the fact that at one time in my life I had such strong dislike for little boys. During my stint of crazy, I would often have dreams where I would end up with a boy and either just leave it at the hospital, or try and take somebody elses girl instead, black market baby trade, that kind of thing. I'm going to deny ever having dreams where fatality was concerned, with the exception of "the Dream". I don't really remember for sure but obviously if I was that excited about not drowning the imaginary boy baby, I must have had other dreams where things did not go well. Yeah, I know, it's not a good thing! So when I woke up that morning, everything had changed, I actually felt different. It was like going to sleep democrat and waking up republican, just really odd. I don't know how one dream was able to change my mind on something I felt so strongly about, but dreams are crazy things. It was a little frightening, this very well could be how serial killers are made.

Well ever since I had that weird ass dream, I starting going through bouts of baby fever. It would happen every couple months for about a week at a time  and then it would stop for another month or two. Pretty soon it was two weeks, then three, then a month. Now I am bat sh*t baby crazy. I went from not liking kids to being a baby stalker at work, staring people's strollers down as they pass my desk. "Ohhh whatcha got there? Is that a baaabbyy? Do you have a baabbyy in therree?? Is that a tiny little human with tiny little human features in theerre???" In my creepy high pitched voice. Rob and I decided we are going to have a baby someday, we actually talked about possibly starting to trying the beginning of next year but after thinking about it and looking over some of our bills I decided, like a big girl, we needed to wait a couple more years so we can pay off some things first. Lord knows I need the time to work on my self-control and sanity, I already have to stop myself from buying cute little outfits for the future baby Lavender.

Speaking of sanity, that brings us to the title of this post.
So one night I overdosed on baby names, outfits and gear and was sucked in to a baby-high. Allow me to walk you through the stages of a Rachel baby-high:

Step 1: Exaggerated sense of happiness- Me singing and writing lists of baby stuff, looking at baby stuff online, pinterest searches, etc.

Step 2: Confliction- This is when I argue with myself, out loud, that I want a baby and then I tell myself "NO! You can not have one, not now."
Then I say "Yes damn it! My body my choice!"
"No you irresponsible fool! You can't even keep your house clean now, you don't get one"
Fight ensues--Rob is curled up at the other end of the couch with a look of terror in his eyes.

Step 3: Anger and self loathing- Pretty much me hating everyone and everything, storming away to shed some anger tears.

Step 4: Acceptance aka Complete Delusion- This is when things get really scary. I come out of the bedroom, all raccoon eyed with hair sticking up everywhere, crazy smile on my face. On this particular night I decided that I could wait to have a baby, because I already have a baby!! MAGNUS!!! I just remembered, I have newborn diaper samples in my closet! (This should end well)

Long story short, I had my arms shredded by possibly the angriest rabbit you will ever see, the diaper ended up staying on him for maybe 3 seconds, at the most, and I had to spend the rest of the night trying to coax Mags out from his hiding spot under the bed. He finally came out but spent the rest of the night ignoring me, yes rabbits can ignore you and it's incredibly hurtful. And just to be clear, Rob was home the entire time but I think he was too scared to intervene during any of this and by too scared I mean has stopped paying attention to my crazy and leaves me to my own devices.

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