I just couldn't help myself.

I was chauffeuring kids around a lot last week (what else is new) and I found myself thinking the same thought over and over again.

I was thinking about this...

I was thinking about what it was like when the nurse brings you your new baby and they are all wrapped up in these waffle blankets. How the waffle blanket just stretches over those babies in a tight snugly cocoony swaddle. And the babies love that. They are so happy all tight like that. I remember when the nurse taught Corey and I how to swaddle our first baby. We were so happy to know how to do it and I remember Corey being so attentive to learn from her.

I was thinking about how new those babies are and how sweet and how little.

I was remembering how it felt to hold them and pat their little bummies. You know how all people have their own familiar way they hold a baby? I apparently am a bum patter. I can sooth babies really good with the rhythmic bum pat. I hold them almost chest to chest, stuff a plug in and bum pat away. They love it. I love their little legs tucked up like little stink bugs.

I love everything about that feeling of a new baby in my arms. I love who it made me feel like. All motherly and womanly and feminly and pretty.

I feel most at home with my baby in my arms.

I feel most like "me" with my baby in my arms.

I feel the most comfortable in my own skin and the most like myself with my baby in my arms.

I feel my most "muchness" with my baby in my arms...

Anyway, I told myself to quit thinking about it. I did, I promise. But I just couldn't help to indulge.

I was remembering the baby's softness. Their fragile new fuzzy little skin. I always loved to pet their little soft heads. And the funny little faces they make. I was remembering those first two weeks with your new born before that newborn magic is gone. It really does only last such a short time and then they change. I think I cried to my BFF, with about the last four of my babies, about how heartbreaking it was they couldn't stay one week old forever. She always "got" me on that and would mourn with me, and let me mourn all I wanted over it. She really understood.

I was thinking all of those little baby thoughts.
I had a little heart ache in my heart and a little cry in my throat but I just couldn't resist letting myself have some time with those thoughts. I miss those babies.




Nobody panic. I'm not saying I want one (okay, I do, but I'll refrain because of past stated issues). But I miss those babies. I miss them the second I have them knowing they aren't going to last that new more than a few weeks.
I wish I could just keep one in the closet and love on it for a few hours and then tuck it back away for the next day.

Okay, I totally don't know how that would work but it would still be nice if somehow it could and it wouldn't be bad for the baby.


On a wierd little side bar:

You know how it seems like some women always get little dogs to fill their motherly needs? I have thought a lot, and if I can't run my orphanage or have enough money to be like a volunteer baby rocker in hospitals where they need baby rockers, or be a nurse with the babies, or adopt a baby, then this is what I am going to have to get.

I don't want a little dog. I want this bird.

I have actually wanted it for a good 15 years now but have been busy with babies. But if I can't have babies then I am having this. NO MATTER WHAT! (well, almost NO MATTER WHAT) So start saving your money... Corey.

If you get them right from the egg, they are really sweet little birds.