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.


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