Meeting da baby
Mar. 1st, 2006 11:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dendritejungleSo. Last Friday night I got to meet twistedhip's newborn baby girl. He's right - she is the softest thing I have ever felt. It's like the skin on her shoulders isn't even there, it's so soft. I've been trying to think of a good nickname for her in my blog, and came up with "Val" for "Valvoline", since I was thinking if there were just some way to patent that frictionless essence, you could make a million selling it as engine lubricant!
They very kindly let me hold Val while we watched the Corpse Bride, and I was trying SO hard not to move because I didn't want to wake her up. After the movie, when I told them this, they chuckled knowingly and demonstrated that you could probably whirl her around your head or use her as a drum and she still wouldn't wake up until she was darn ready. (I should perhaps point out that they didn't demonstrate this by actually DOING these things - it was more of a supported rocking up and down motion, really.) But man, that kid was out!
It never quite ceases to amaze me how I can be quite dotty about other people's kids and still genuinely not think, "wow, I gotta get me one of these." I am so thrilled whenever I see the couple of kids I am honoured enough to have in my life. I have a pretty highly developed sense of wonder, and have seen some amazing stuff in my 31 years, but knowing the parents-to-be going through the pregnancy and then watching these babies change and grow every time I see them, and knowing they are happy and loved and well cared-for and how much joy they bring their parents - well, it's been the neatest thing in my life, bar none.
I worry, sometimes, that something is profoundly wrong with me, and that the desire to have kids will kick in with a vengeance at some totally useless time like, say, 60, when there's not a durned thing I can do about it, and I'll end up all sad and regretful. If I weren't also blessed by the presence of several very cool kidless women at work - most of whom, like me, genuinely like kids and I assume are pretty good with them (they just strike me that way), but don't actually want to have their own - I would have to assume I am quite, quite mad and should go into some sort of therapy program to make me crave the babies I'm supposed to want for myself.
For a long time I also worried that when people around me started having children I would feel left out somehow, like the River of Life passed me by and I'm stuck circling in a little stagnant eddy somewhere as they all go rushing by me to...uh, the sea, or whatever the appropriate metaphor would be. I have been delighted and relieved to discover that I have't felt that way at all. I've been really touched when the parents invite me over and I get to hold them and play with them and even read them stories. It's FUN, dammit, and I really value being part of their lives, however peripherally.
I think it's like visiting someone's cottage: I always have a great time when I go, and i can see why people love them enough to want to own them and embrace being responsible for their upkeep as part of the deal. I get it, I really do. I just don't crave that constant contact strongly enough to want that kind of commitment for myself.
But I sure do love those visits.
They very kindly let me hold Val while we watched the Corpse Bride, and I was trying SO hard not to move because I didn't want to wake her up. After the movie, when I told them this, they chuckled knowingly and demonstrated that you could probably whirl her around your head or use her as a drum and she still wouldn't wake up until she was darn ready. (I should perhaps point out that they didn't demonstrate this by actually DOING these things - it was more of a supported rocking up and down motion, really.) But man, that kid was out!
It never quite ceases to amaze me how I can be quite dotty about other people's kids and still genuinely not think, "wow, I gotta get me one of these." I am so thrilled whenever I see the couple of kids I am honoured enough to have in my life. I have a pretty highly developed sense of wonder, and have seen some amazing stuff in my 31 years, but knowing the parents-to-be going through the pregnancy and then watching these babies change and grow every time I see them, and knowing they are happy and loved and well cared-for and how much joy they bring their parents - well, it's been the neatest thing in my life, bar none.
I worry, sometimes, that something is profoundly wrong with me, and that the desire to have kids will kick in with a vengeance at some totally useless time like, say, 60, when there's not a durned thing I can do about it, and I'll end up all sad and regretful. If I weren't also blessed by the presence of several very cool kidless women at work - most of whom, like me, genuinely like kids and I assume are pretty good with them (they just strike me that way), but don't actually want to have their own - I would have to assume I am quite, quite mad and should go into some sort of therapy program to make me crave the babies I'm supposed to want for myself.
For a long time I also worried that when people around me started having children I would feel left out somehow, like the River of Life passed me by and I'm stuck circling in a little stagnant eddy somewhere as they all go rushing by me to...uh, the sea, or whatever the appropriate metaphor would be. I have been delighted and relieved to discover that I have't felt that way at all. I've been really touched when the parents invite me over and I get to hold them and play with them and even read them stories. It's FUN, dammit, and I really value being part of their lives, however peripherally.
I think it's like visiting someone's cottage: I always have a great time when I go, and i can see why people love them enough to want to own them and embrace being responsible for their upkeep as part of the deal. I get it, I really do. I just don't crave that constant contact strongly enough to want that kind of commitment for myself.
But I sure do love those visits.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-05 05:40 am (UTC)So uh, sorry that I've had your message saved on my phone for THREE MONTHS and not called you back! That's pretty unusual suckage even for me. It really has to do with the fact that I had put off calling you back over New Year's and then we had the break-in and that derailed eveything for a while.
Even now though, I'm so paranoid about writing email to you since your accounts don't seem to work very well - is there a good place to email you? Do you still want that gmail account?
I know I have been a sucking vacuum of communication lately, but I am thinking of you - I would like to hang out sometime, if you're into it. I'm still alive, really!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-03-09 08:44 am (UTC)I'm delighted to hear from you, however belatedly. I would indeed love to see you. Do try my Hotmail account again - it's been better in recent months, and I check it more often than any of the others.
The Decision
Date: 2006-03-09 03:33 am (UTC)Some of the no-kids people (and i'm not saying you're necessarily one) lend amazing support to the kids people. i was having a conversation today with the new girl at work. She's beginning to suspect she might not be able to convince her boyfriend to have kids with her before that biological window closes, so she's testing the kid-support waters and trying to see if she can picture her future in that support role.
i don't think i have a point here. It's just interesting.
And believe me, we enjoy your visits as much as you do. :)
Re: The Decision
Date: 2006-03-09 08:48 am (UTC)I'm with you, though - my heart really goes out to those who are meant to have kids and don't. I hope the new girl finds her way!