Baby Crazy

Every month I can always tell when I am ovulating, because I start to get all these thoughts. Thoughts like “Sean’s babies would be so cute. Really, I should start having babies now. I only have two years left of undergraduate.”

I start looking up pictures of Filipino hapa babies and imagining what my baby would look like.

Suddenly, silly videos of my baby cousins become much more interesting.

I envision myself as this young, poor-but-noble mother with her baby strapped to her back, attending class.

It doesn’t help to have friends who have extremely cute hapa children. Then I start thinking, “Well, so-and-so wouldn’t be THAT much older if I get pregnant now, I could still do playdates.”

I start looking up free or very low cost family activities in the area.

Sean’s on to me, though. He always gets this bemused look on his face and says, “Honey, remember last month how you started talking about babies incessantly? You’re doing it again. Wouldn’t it be so much nicer to wait until you have your master’s degree, and I can be a work-at-home dad? It would be better if we both get through college first.”

I know. I know he’s right.

Tell that to my hormone-addled brain, that is all “Start stockpiling baby stuff now! Who cares if you are only 21! You’re more fertile this way! You can have MILLIONS OF BABIES!!!!”