Friday 14 October 2011

Imagine little versions of me... Go on, just imagine it. Are you scared or excited? No, I'm not sure how I feel about it either.

Work-Buddy-James had a baby on Wednesday night. Well not actually him but apparently he felt entirely knackered in watching his wife give birth. Not only that but the sandwich he was eating at the time wasn't even that nice so he was pretty put out by that. 

Anywho today he sent me pictures of his new son and can I just say, this kid is beautiful. His wife is Chinese and he is a white ginger dude which, by the way, is an awesome combination to make kids with. So much so that I'm considering dying my hair red and finding me a Chinese man... Before you say it, of course that's the same thing. 

Since seeing the magic that is a Chinese baby boy with blue eyes I have been wondering whether or not it's time for me to get one of those (not necessarily a Chinese baby but a baby nonetheless). 

I reckon I'm at the right place in my life... I'm single, I'm young, and I could really do with the extra cash that comes with child support. I'm kidding. Having a baby solely for the purpose of getting money from the government is NOT a way to bring a child into the world... You've got to at least have 2 or 3 reasons that rank above that. 

Nah, in all seriousness I'm okay on the baby front at the moment. Even if just purely looking at the sight of a baby today made my womb explode, that's just a crappy side effect of being a woman and stuff. 

Yup. The joys of womanhood comes with bleeding several pints of blood a month and pining for the day where you can balloon to three times your size, go through immense pain for what could possibly last a week in some cases and then spend the next three years trying to get your figure back and lose the stretch marks that seem to be adamant to haunt you for the rest of your life. All this only to have your womb explode again the moment you have achieved said normal figure and you go through the whole experience again. This (in my case as I would ideally like six kids in all) will continue to happen until your body can't create babies anymore and has decided that the process of tightening up again afterwards isn't nearly as easy as it was before and so you are left with a saggier and altogether 'more loose' version of what you had once. 

Wow, all this makes me sound like I am dead against kids. I really am not. I want loads of them and I can't wait until they permanently destroy my body. 

Even now I'm making plans to adopt an Ethiopian kid with Kayla from Mike and Kayla. I mean what woman who didn't want kids would do that? I rest my case. 

If anyone else has been left confused about my views on the topic of this post then you're not alone. 

Peace out my lovelies. 

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