Oh hey! How's everyone doing? Do you want to meet my new best friend? Of course you do!
Hi! I'm Lucy Joan! I'm two months old and like, not to brag or anything but my doctor says I'm functioning at the level of a four month old. I'll be at Harvard by age 7 at the rate I'm going! My favorite things are sleeping, eating, snuggling, pooping through my cute overalls in public and my Cool Aunt Liz!
That's right world, I'm an aunt. On April 29, 2015 my brother Michael and his girlfriend Kathleen welcomed Lucy Joan to the world, and another star sparkled in the heavens, she's so perfect. The only sad thing is that they live in Chicago so I don't get to see them every single day.
Lucy Goose has yet to make an appearance on le blog, I didn't want to violate her privacy without consulting her parents (even though like, 99.6% of the people who read this are related to me so I don't know why I thought it was time for some cyber security) but her parents have given me the green light to "fully exploit her" so exploit her I shall! Mommy bloggers get hella pageviews ... do you think there's a market for Auntie Blogs? Probably not?
I already have her working as a spokesbaby for Riverhead!
The Goose is the best baby ever. Even Her Royal Highness Charlotte of Wales is jelly, she wishes she had half the class and charm as this American dame. Fun fact: Goose was born on Will and Kate's 4th wedding anniversary! Charlotte was born two days later. I was hoping they'd arrive on the same day and honestly, it's probably a good thing they didn't. If both my niece and the royal baby had been born on the same day AND it had been the anniversary of the royal wedding I probbbbably would have had an aneurysm. And now Lucy gets to be older and wiser and way, way cooler.
Also, you know what's a hard word to spell? Aneurysm. Yikes.
Here are some more gratuitous photos of The Goose because it's my blog and I'll baby spam if I want to.
Also, I have a confession to make: I've got baby fever and I've got it BAD. I'd had some symptoms coming on lately - the yearning to speak in googoo talk, the pull towards the kids' clothing section in Target, the seeming magic ability suddenly be surrounded by babies or preggo ladies everywhere I look. I thought I was fighting it off but this visit to Goosie's house put me right into the Danger Zone.
I mean, how am I supposed to look at this cuteness and NOT want to get knocked up on the spot!?!
(Right before Lucy was born, Brian comes into the living room and says: "I've been thinking about it and I want to be called Tio Brian." What a weirdo. Impregnate me weirdo!!!!!)
I have a fever and the only prescription is having or kidnapping a baby.
Or more cowbell.
DON'T WORRY I have a Holiday Weekend intervention planned replete with therapies from a variety of schools, including the foolproof Kids Ruin This School (methods include sleeping in, having sex in the living room whenever we feel like it, looking at photos of exotic travel destinations on the internet), the FOMO Sciences (getting drunk with my childless friends) and the controversial Tiresome Toddlers Philosophy, wherein I'll hang out with a bunch of rambunctious 2 to 4 year-olds and be reminded that cooing sleepy two-month-old angels quickly turn into exhausting little human energy monsters. This method is risky in that I might find myself enjoying the toddler time, which will intensify my fever rather than quenching it.
Wish me luck, America.
In all seriousness though (I do occasionally get serious, you know) the whole parenting issue looms large and near in our lives. We're 30 (almost 31, yikes) and definitely want to start a family...someday. We know we're not ready yet, we have a few too many adventures we want to do together before unleashing a little Hott Baby into our lives, but when will we be ready? How can we possibly know?
Also we should probably not call our future child Hott Baby...that could get dicey.
Because I'm a cool, calm, sane cucumber, I have our lives planned out for the next few years right up to the exact month and, if my cycle stays regular, day we'll begin trying for a baby. What a nutcase. I still haven't deduced the position we'll go for (think of all the fun new stuff Cosmopolitan can come up with between now and then!) but I've figured out pretty much everything else. We'll enjoy a few years of fun, travel and moneysaving and then we'll have one perfect babymaking session that is as productive as it is passionate resulting in mutual simultaneous orgasm, the likes of which are rarely seen outside of romance films and a baby on the very first try.
And since life always, 100% of the time goes exactly just the way I want it, this will totally happen! How fun!
Except, of course, that's never how it happens at all. The more I think about the realities of life, the more I wonder if we might not need to move up our plan or change it altogether. Mainly the more I think about life, the more I worry in general. I have seen friends and family struggle with conception, miscarriage and other scary and heartbreaking fertility issues and I know how difficult it can sometimes be. We could get pregnant on the first try or the hundredth or never at all. How long am I willing to push it? What if we wait three years to start trying and then it takes two more to get knocked up. I'll be 35. I know that's not old but it's getting into a riskier zone. How risky am I willing to be? I know I want a few more years of child free fun, but I don't want to find myself looking back with regret.
My friends and I talk often about this and we all wish there was some kind of test your gyno could do, so long as they're down there, draw some blood or scoop out an egg or something, that could get a sense of your fertility. That could tell you if you're a Fertile Myrtle who should keep her legs snapped shot or if you might have a harder go of it and should start trying or freezing your eggs like pronto.
Wishful thinking, I know. But it sure would be nice!
I read articles about this all the time and ask parents how they knew they were ready to have a baby and often there is no clear answer. No sign from on high or lightening bolt or twinge of the uterus saying "TIS TIME!" You just like, go for it and hope for the best. And we all know how good I am at just calmly going for things without knowing how they'll turn out.
B and I talked about this a bunch last night and for now, we're sticking to the plan with an addendum that we know it is flexible and we can revisit at any time and adjust as needed. I'm feeling good about it. So PROBABLY no Hott Baby for at least a little while longer. Don't get too fired up.
Until then, I'll just channel alllllll of my baby fever energy into spoiling my sweet Lucy Pants.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I MEAN HOW COULD YOU NOT WANT TO SPOIL THIS CHILD!!!!!!!! LOOK AT THAT FACE I'M DEAD BYE.
Real talk for a hot sec: Are you a parent? How did you know when you were ready? I'm sincerely curious, I'd love to hear!
XOXO and Happy Independence Day, America!
Cool Aunt Liz