Facing the Facts

I want a baby.

People keep saying, "No you don't! Don't say that." But uh....yea, I do. It stems from them being sooo cute, and me not wanting to be an old mama. At 23, I'm not where I hoped I'd be career-wise, and I'm realizing there's no way I can gauge how long that will take. That really has me worried that I will be 42 years old at the second-grade Christmas play.

At 23, there are girls who have like, a 6-year-jump on me. I cannot be 50 when all the other mamas are like 30. No sir!

However, I am rational enough to realize that because I'm at the entry level of my career, and because I have such lofty goals, this is the time to be on 100% grind mode. This requires complete focus, dedication, hunger, and even self-centeredness - I can't afford to try to divide my attention right now.

Beyond that, I have some more self-actualizing to do . I'd like to cross more items off my bucket list and reach a higher level of wholeness and self-acceptance before I try to instill values in someone else and try to guide his or her life.

Beyond that, I'm still pretty selfish/impulsive/undisciplined - also traits that a parent should not have. I like to spend my money on ice cream clothes lip gloss and frappucinos. I like to get up at a moment's notice and go anywhere. Children will infringe upon my right to blow my cash on frivolity! I like to be by myself sometimes and have complete silence or maybe LOUD music or read or whatever. I know kids will limit my freedom.

So I use all those very logical reasons to rationalize myself out of wanting a child. But my heart still wants one. Which is why I have to have this convo with myself on a recurring basis.