Okay, so maybe this is really bad . . . but . . .
I really want kids. Really, really, really. I was watching little Abigail at church this morning and . . . I just don’t want to wait anymore. I really just want to have a bunch of little kids, and a house and (yes, Alisa, I know the proper order for all this) a husband. I want to spend my days cleaning my house and doing laundry and changing diapers . . . I want to be the one who they run to when they scratch their knee and when their head hurts. I want to fix things and clean graham crackers out of every single crevice . . . I want to find baby toys in my bed at night and have my sleep interupted by little feet during thunderstorms. I want to be exhausted 24-7 for the next 12 years of my life . . .
I don’t know. It’s just not really fair. Sigh. Well. Anyhoo. If you know him . . . send him my way, because I’m really ready. I used to think that it was funny when people suddenly got all . . . settle-downish. It’s not funny, it’s painful.
Just a thought. Terrible, but true. I think that I am melodramatic.