Right now, one of my closest friends is in labor. She's texting me a whole lot, which means that things aren't really rolling too much. I wanted to take a nap, but I'm too excited!
You know, as the only single woman on the planet, with eggs that are rapidly approaching geriatric status, you'd think I'd be used to this. All of my friends have babies. All of them. And yet, each time they go into labor I'm ridiculously excited and a nervous wreck. I want to be there! I worry about if they are in pain or not. And yes, part of me just wants to get my hands on that kid.
As an aside, I'd just like to say that I want to see someone give birth. I know it's gross, but I don't care. I just want to see a live birth! No one ever takes me up on it, not even my sister. My cousin would probably let me, but she lives a million miles away and has no plans for a Non-Mommy, Jr. either. I am screwed.
Anyway, soon I will get to snuggle with a new baby. They don't do much, but there isn't much better than holding a warm bundle of new goodness.
(Please note the restraint I have shown in not complaining about it never being my turn! Also, if you know any single men, please leave me their pertinent contact information.
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