I am happy for all of them, but one of the mamas was not planning to have any more kids because she had very serious nausea for all nine months of her first two pregnancies. I am happy and sad for her, just as she is happy and sad herself. Poor mama. It just doesn't seem fair.

I am always excited to hear about a new pregnancy, a new baby. It's so amazing and mysterious to me, even though I've been through it. But recently, my feelings have been mixed with a little, tiny, tiny bit of envy because part of me wants to do it all again. It's the part of me that is not thinking sensibly, it's the part that wants to fall in love too fast, spend money too frivolously, have babies when it's not the right time. That part of me is also taking the shape of the cliched ticking clock. I'm of childbearing age, and my body will not let me forget it. Of course, the sensible part of me is saying, "You know you can't do that. You know that this might bring you trouble later," but that dreamy/hormonal-clock-ticking part of me just doesn't want to hear it.

Sure, I do wanna do it all again. I want to have another baby someday. Just not now. I'm not just saying that, I'm serious. Being the mom is hard work, and I want to be sure I'm not making it harder for myself. There are days when E. is more than I can handle. He needs so much time and attention. Adding another kid to the picture would not make it any easier. And there's C. C. does a lot of the work, and I know he's not ready either.

Eh, all of that I just wrote? That's my la-la-la I sing when the "I wanna have another one" voice gets too loud.