I miss that just had a new baby smell.

Okay. I exaggerate.

But I do miss that just had a baby feeling. Sometimes my uterus just up and goes to Sonic because it has nothing better to do.

I love seeing all of your baby pictures of sippy cups and pregnancy and older babies holding newer babies. Isn’t it weird how small your older baby looks until you have a newborn? Then your older baby’s head just looks enormous.

Especially in instagram.

I mean the pics. Of your cute babies.

Not your other baby’s enormous head.

I know what you’re thinking. Stop her before she consummates again. Too late.


No. I will not have more babies. I promise to the best of my personal ability.

But it’s a strange feeling to stay in on a Friday night while your 13 year old daughter concocts potions in the back room from avocado and grapefruit and smears it all on her friend’s face while listening to Miley (yes, she still exists) and One Republic.

And then she starts her own holistic spa website.

Here’s the spatastic website link.

What baby does that?

The same baby who learned to ask if we had avocado and honey coupons about the same time she learned to do calculus.

Okay. She’s in algebra.

She will be editing and adding and tweaking the website, of course. She’s 13.  She will be editing and adding and tweaking everything until she’s 72.

But she’s already more mature than me.

Which is why I want another baby.

Which reminds me.

If you are young parents, I get how crazy it gets. I had four, and had to borrow people off the streets to ensure their survival.

But I miss those times now. I promise.

I promise.

I promise.

I promise.