Can a leopard change its spots?
Could a lion prevent itself from roaring?
Or an eagle learn to swim?
These are the questions I am asking from within.
In other words, can I hang up my ‘I do not have another (new and innocent) life to be responsible for, and I can go out whenever I choose (within reason) and have a glass of wine or two and stay in bed until late (if I so desire)’ hat?
Other people have accomplished this, why can’t I?
A lot of people managed to do so a long time ago.
And the reason? For worthwhile and fulfilling things, such as having babies and becoming a responsible mother.
There. I have said it. Out loud. I have written the words for all the world to see. Well, maybe not the whole wide world, just the people who care to read the latest developments on Flying Pink Elephants.
Boyfriend and I are discussing becoming parents. Frequently. We have our favourite names, thankfully the same ones, and we fantasise about the parenting skills we will hopefully gain.
He/she/they must have a happy, cherished childhood. They must not be spoilt. But we want to give them everything. Especially love, security, morals, manners, football boots or pretty frocks.
I sometimes gaze at magazines with childrens toys and furnishing. I try to imagine what it would be like to be purchasing them.
I am sometimes lost in my make believe world of childrens parties and baking colourful cup cakes with my future heirs.
Then reality overtakes me.
Am I able to bear children? Can we afford to feed children? Where will we live with children?
Is a one bedroom rented flat, a forty five minute journey from my parents house (let's face it we will need baby sitters and important input from pros) too small and too far? We are supposed to be saving for a mortgage. Can we afford a mortgage and one income?
Maybe it’s time to let nature take its course? Perhaps you can’t plan everything and on some occasions you have to throw caution to the bitter wind and see where this crazy life leads you?
I am terrified about fertility issues. I am petrified about labour pains (I make a big fuss when burning myself on the roast potato tin, which I do far too often). I am full of anguish about a new born life looking up to me and counting on me.
Crikey, not buying a bottle of Pinot Grigio and saying goodbye to self indulgent mornings in bed, are nothing compared to the above.
But the joys and the rewards must surely over take the worries and the concerns.
Or would it be correct to say, the worries and concerns never leave you when you become a parent, just as the joys and rewards must always be there. And phenomenal.
Interesting and life changing times are ahead (fingers and eyes crossed, touch large planks of wood with cautious fingers to not tempt fate) dearest readers.
Plus, I shall be 38 on my next birthday!
Time to grow up and reproduce?
Let's hope so.