Let me start off with saying that I do not have any children. I am sure I would be too busy to write a blog if I did have them. I would probably give up on all my holy vowed mommy principles when criticizing the “fallen ones” around me: be strict, stay sexy and engage in other non-children-related topics.
The more likely scenario is that I will be suffering from severe sleep deprivation and say goodbye – at least temporarily – to my sex life. I will probably be one of those ultra-annoying mothers that talks too much about her children, while eating in a very unappetizing manner and messy hair with all the food that these same children decided they did not like so much after all, gaining weight with every bite of half eaten ice cream or slimy liquorice.
Anyhow, the fantasizing about what it would be like has begun, which I’ve read is the first small step on the road to motherhood. I am 29 years old, focused on my career and planning my wedding and have postponed the ‘when will we start having babies talk’ as much as I could. But as you slowly say goodbye to your twenties, more and more babies are born around you and therefore the more often you do end up talking or thinking about it.
On top of that, my fiancée seems to be an exception to some unwritten rule that most men will prefer to postpone having children as long as possible. Mine is a year younger but is already sighing with exasperation when I repeat my mantra: ‘I do not want to have this baby talk yet. It makes me nervous. No talking about It before my 30th birthday’. He is absolutely ready, but I am not. Probably due to another holy principle of mine: ‘My twenties are for me (and if God allows), my thirties are for my children.’ The clock is ticking but at least I am sticking to one principle.