My biological clock chimed today.
When my husband turned the car on this morning, the check engine light blinked on. Then off. Then on. Then off. Then on again. The morning was frosty so I gave a little, "Thank God our heater works at least," while my husband grumbled, "The mechanic said that it would cost $1200 to fix the car."
So, how does our broken car lead to my biological clock spasm? Simply because when we were talking about whether to fix the car or get a new one, my husband said, "You know, our next car will have to be a four-door."
A. Four. Door. Car.
Cue spooky music.
To me, a four-door automobile means poopy diapers, baby drool and never leaving home without a purse stocked with snacks and books. It means that where I now have one bag to carry, I would instead have three bags, one baby and all the other accouterments that go with it. It would mean sleepless nights and sleepless days and no television. It would mean daycare bills and and pee-tents (ugh) and nasal aspirators and saving for college.
However, a four-door automobile also means tiny little fingers and toes and snuggles on the couch on cold winter mornings. It means a little person to shape and mold with my own ideals and morals. It means seeing first steps, and hearing first words, and smiles, and giggles, and a new-found love. It means viewing the world through young eyes; a world where knock-knock jokes would be funny again and everything would seem possible.
So, tick-tock biological clock. A four door auto doesn't sound quite as frightening as it once did.
7 comments:
Ha! It sneaks up on you, doesn't it?
Console yourself with this: nasal aspirators are really not a great thing (useful, but you can hurt little baby's sinus cavity), and we never use a peepee teepee. So that's two dreaded items you can discard.
But all the good stuff is true! And think how much fun it will be to see your husband in your child, and to watch your child interact with the Devil Dog.
Plus, you can use the extra car space for stuff like shoes. I'm just saying.
Re: that last bit. I mean more room for the shoes you buy when out shoe shopping. I don't know if you do this, but since I'm unable to stop myself, this is one thing I cling to. More shoes. More room for shoes. A new person in our family to talk about shoes with and appreciate cute shoes with and who might, one day, say: "Mommy, your shoes are pitty." like on John and Kate Plus 8.
ugh, mine seems to be ticking lately too, with the arrival of a birthday tomorrow that will put me extremely close to mid-life crisis range. I'm not sure how I can make myself do something that seems so simultaneously scary yet important! So I'll stay tuned if you have anymore insight...
Hi! I saw your comment on the QC Report.
The biological clock is a miraculous thing. Mine hasn't stopped ticking even after I had three babies in a span of four years and adored every minute of it. I especially adore it in retrospect now that my children are all teenagers and keeping track of them when they were babies was way easier than it is now! I wish I would have had more kids....that is a story for a different post. Loved your writing. I was reading some of your old posts and will come back and read more.
Oh, just wait. Wait until you put a baby in that four door car. You'll be wishing for a mini-van. No joke.
Having a baby really does change everything. The sleepless nights and dirty diapers don't hold a candle to the joy Evie has brought us. And you'll fall in love with Jyoti all over again when you see him as a father.
I can't wait!
Ticking? My biological clock hit way past ticking just this year. I think the alarm started going off earlier this year. The alarm went back to "snooze" when my love finally proposed. But it's definitely still ticking and I'm REALLY looking forward to starting a family!
I had a ScionXb before we bought the MomVan. It was definitely cooler, but couldn't hold as many kids.
I like your writing.
Post a Comment