Some places inspire you to do stuff. (And no, I’m not referring to sex shops, though I’m sure it applies there too.)
For instance, you visit a Museum, you are likely to get inspired to study art more, if only to know some of the names and pieces you see in exhibitions. You go to certain spots in California, you might be inspired to learn to surf. You go shopping and find nothing that fits, you might be inspired to lose weight. Or go home and drawn your sorrows in a pint of ice cream (Ben&Jerry’s, anyone?)
And when you go to baby stores, you might just be inspired to have another baby. There’s cute stuff there. Lovely baby clothes in pastel colors. Small patent mary jane shoes and tiny leather sneakers.
So yesterday, when I went with my friend V. to help her with her baby registry, I had to activate my baby dust deflector. Which basically means I had to enter a yogi semi-meditative state where no thoughts of babies entered (kind of hard in a baby store.) Because I got pregnant so quickly both times, I’m not entirely sure I couldn’t get pregnant just by thinking about it too much. And since I’m still dealing with the baby fat (ehm… toddler fat) and sleep deprivation, I’m going to go ahead and say I am not ready for another child.
Not thinking about having another baby is kind of hard when you see things like this:
which invariably bring to mind the “cute baby in a cute outfit” moments you had with your own children, those when you look at them and you can hardly contain the pride in both your offspring and your fashion sense. Which in my experience happens more often with girls, because, as everyone knows, there’s way more cute clothes for girls than for boys. But that might also be because I have two girls and I’m sort of clueless about baby boys, really.
Anyhoo, these are two of the “cute baby in a cute outfit” moments that came to mind yesterday:
Sarah, 10 weeks old, in an adorable hoodie sweater you can't see well because this photo is from the time before digital cameras and the quality sucks. Also, I scanned it so it's even worse.
Stella, 10 months old, in a pink velour tracksuit so cute I wanted to eat her up.
And believe it or not, adding those images here was enough to start those impure baby making thoughts again. My baby dust deflector is apparently stuck. In such cases, the emergency cure: stepping in front of the mirror in a bathing suit.
There. All better.