Growing Up

When we were growing up, my brother and I used to give my mom the hardest time about how she cried at every. single. thing. I mean, seriously, it seemed like everything—commercials, movies, weddings, you name it. It didn’t matter if it was happy or sad, my mother would cry.

News flash: I have become that person. Ugh.

A dear friend of mine had a baby just a couple of weeks ago and I may have shed a tear or two when I saw her daughter’s picture for the first time (Sarah, if you’re reading this, yes, it was your sweet little Emma who made me all teary). Plenty of my friends have had babies--heck, I’ve even been to the hospital to visit lots of them afterwards, and this has not happened before. Our 11-month-old nephew was admitted to the hospital last week with internal bleeding (FYI--he's fine now!), and my eyes started watering just seeing his adorable little face behind those little hospital crib bars. Then, last night, my husband and I were catching up on the latest episode of The Office on our DVR. Did anyone else watch this?? Did you not get all weepy at the end of the episode when they revisited the reading of 1 Corinthians 13 at Jim and Pam’s wedding?? Jake looked over just in time to see me dissolve into tears. Good Lord.

When did this happen?

I have a theory. Maybe because I knew absurdly early on (and well before it came to fruition) that my husband was “the one,” I’ve never questioned how you really know if someone is “the one.” That was never really something I thought about. I have wondered, however, when you know that you’re ready to expand your family.

O.K. You know. How? You have pregnancy envy. Or, in the case of my husband, child envy. Honestly, it doesn’t make any sense, especially when you consider that we are actively taking steps to NOT get pregnant. But there it is. When you get excited about new appliances, dream about home ownership, backyard barbecues, starting a garden and possibly getting chickens, and you love the fact that you live in a community-oriented town with plenty of green space and a great school system—you know. Corvallis is our paradise found and we’ve got babies on the brain.

Too bad I’m still in grad school… SO, in the meantime, we’ll keep dreaming big, and I’ll just accept that I’ve become a total sap who turns into a puddle at the drop of a hat. There are worse things. J