The clock.

Lately I cannot stop thinking about babies. I think about all the logistics of being pregnant, buying clothes, getting fat, giving birth and telling work I'm going to using FMLA. I think about stupid stuff like changing diapers and how I want to puree all the baby food myself instead of buying it from gerber. I think about how it's going to drastically change our lives and put a damper on our social life. I think about how old I will be when the kid is XX years old. I think about how I will have to buy one of those strollers that you can run with so I don't stay fat. I think about how easy it was for the hubs and me to gain weight, and how the obesity epidemic is taking over America's youth. I do not want my child to go through the struggles that I did as a fat middle schooler/high schooler. The good news is hubs did not gain weight until college, and I lost it in college, so the kid has a 50/50 chance of being average at some point. Neither the hubs nor I was ever or probably will ever be "thin" so they are just out of luck on that one unless the kid gets my mom's genes. I think a lot about the unknown of having a husband who was adopted. I have no clue what his parents look like or his grandparents or what is normal for his family to look like. I think I look a lot like my dad's side of the family (but not my dad), and not really so much my mom's.

I know my parents will be thrilled to read all this blabbering, but I also know that we (the hubs and I) are just not quite there yet.

(by the way, I've been asked twice in the last month if we were actively trying to have a baby yet. The answer is no, and that's noneya bidness.)