The Itch that Don't Need Scratching

There's nothing cuter in this world than holding a baby and watching them coo, giggle, and smile. Nothing sweeter than kissing their petite feet, fingers, and toes, or blowing onto bellies protruding over diapers to hear them laugh hysterically. And even more so, there's nothing like watching them grow into fast-talking toddlers with vocabularies that can now form opinions, wants, and full fledge statements. I remember watching my brother as a toddler, though we're only three years apart, I remember his growth and habits. He's now a well-adjusted, fun loving 21 year old man. Our sister, who's three, seems to have grown up overnight. She knows her colors, ABCs, and 123s. She has to help pick out her clothes and voices her opinion on what "blip-blops" she wants to wear today.


Children, no matter how small or large, how sweet or otherwise, truly are the best things made of this world. They show us who we are as they are our best mirrors. And yet, I've found myself from time-to-time, wanting a child of my own for these very same reasons. Odd right? Shoot, scary too!


 At first I thought it was just me. But then I realized on Twitter timelines, Facebook statuses, and everyday conversations, a lot of women my age, were beginning to feel the itch of wanting a baby. A whole entire child. Some because of the cuteness, some to have someone to love more than we love ourselves and more than the man we've created this child with (in some cases at least). For whatever reason, children sometimes have become an active thought subject for those of us in our mid-twenties.


And again, scary thought.


One of my best friends and I always joke about how miserable and mean I'd be as a pregnant woman. And she tells just as quickly "Yup me and the kids are going to have move in for the first 4 months". We've been besties since we were little girls growing up in the projects and she now is a wonderful wife and even more fabulous mother of three gorgeous little girls. I've watched her in action as the oldest practices her ballet, the middle baby is screaming for more  dry cereal, and the baby is cooing and laughing on her hip. She quiets them all without raising her voice or showing an ounce of frustration. I tell her all the time, you're the type of mother I want to be with patience of steel.


I don't know where this itch comes from. But I know how to rid it and do so quickly. Remember that three year little girl I mentioned in the beginning? Her. My brother and I call her the perfect example of birth control. She can be the sweetest child on Earth when she wants to be. But more times than not, it's a screamfest at our mother's as she's constant, non-stop noise. Full of screams and laughter, you're more likely to trip over a dolls head and bang your knee against one of her three bikes - whichever one she chooses to cruise through the house on because "Sasha tryna get me". Sasha's the cat by the way. This child who I love soooo dearly, is the antihistamine that hasn't been tapped into for the "baby itch".


See, babies grow up and babies eventually talk and grow in themselves. And at 24, I seriously, just cannot imagine chasing after a toddler who's nonstop, all day. I tip my hat and offer many accolades to those who are doing the things I can't picture right now. It's not about selfishness, or me being full of myself. There are things in life that we know whether we're ready for or not. And when it comes to children, regardless of how great I am with them, they're the one thing I'd probably gag and cry at the news of "Ms. Clark, you're pregnant" right now.


So 'til the time is right and all of my stars and moons have aligned for the children who will eventually come from me to be bought into this world, I'll take my daily dose of the three year old who wears my shoes, dabs into my nail polish, and attaches herself to me more than I can keep count.


Kids are cute. But I'll stick with the kid who isn't mine and the cat I wake up to daily.

Regina Belle

If I Could