My Vicarious Surrogacy Through Famous Uteruses (Uteri?)

The last kid that you have is always a little bittersweet. No matter if it's the second or the twelfth (Which in and of itself begs the question: Dear God, WHY??), there are many mixed feelings about the child to end all children (in your household at least).

On one hand, you are 1,000% over all things baby. Pregnancy. Diapers. Teething. Poop-up-the-back blowouts. Tantrums. Potty training. They are inches away from starting school and you start to think you may keep a little bit of sanity intact to save for when they finally fly the coop one day.

But on the other hand....ooh, that excitement of finding out what you're having! Baby powder newborn head smell. (Ovaries worldwide just exploded at that mere thought.) First words. First steps. Buying extremely adorable miniature clothing....You didn't properly appreciate the last of the last but there's not more chances because even though you've ruptured an ovary thinking about brand, spanking new babies, you are still over it. Done. Nada mas por favor!

And yet...

I still find myself clicking on every damn gender reveal video I see on my social media feed. I can't help it. I need this like an addict looking for their next fix. There are no more babies being churned out of my Fallopian factory but there are plenty of people stepping up and taking one for the team in my place. And putting it online. Where I can watch what color balloons pop out of the box. Or what color dust is in the baseball. Or what cake flavor is under all that frosting. Or what color egg isn't hard boiled. (Yes, that's for really real. Mama and Daddy smashed blue and pink eggs on their forehead and the raw one was the gender. It was a boy by the way. #teamblue)

Just because my uterus resembles a ghost town (complete with tumble weeds and dusty prairie lands!), doesn't mean that my heart strings aren't yanked by those precious urchins-to-be. Hence the addictive viewing of online snippets into other people's baby joy. Hey, don't judge me, I've seen you watch cat/dog/tripping toddler/baby goat/sloth videos when you thought no one was looking. I even caught you watching that gender reveal with the creepy cake shaped like a baby head coming out a lady's va-jay-jay:

Just say NO to vagina cake.

(Wrong on so many levels. And probably wrong-er that I can come up with at least 3 inappropriate jokes right now.)

As if living vicariously through random stranger's gender reveal videos wasn't odd enough, I also find myself enraptured with celebrity baby news. If those celebs are popping out paparazzi potential pups, I want to know. That whole Megan Markle thing that just went down? I was beside myself with anticipation. Let me tell you, it felt like she was preggars FOREVER. Finally though, she had that royal bundle of joy, and just in time, since the suspense was just about to do me in!

But it's not just the royals that have my interest piqued, but any celebrity. I just gotta know, is it a boy? A girl? What whack ass name did you give them? I have mad respect for the celebrities who realize that you don't just name your child after the last thing that you ate or the object at the bottom of the junk drawer. Props to the famous folk who give their kids nice, normal names and don't name them "Silver Spoon" or "Psalm". (For the love of all that's holy, don't make their name a holy object. SMH.) Even the ones who give their kids strange names that would totally get their ass kicked if they weren't a celebrity's kid make me feel good about myself. I can think, "Hey, I may not be parent of the year, but at least I didn't name my kid Rocket. Or Apple. Or Cricket. Or Lazer. Or any single one of the Kardashian/Jenner kids names." 

So yes, I'm living vicariously through your uteruses. Uteri? (I feel like spell check knows what it's doing but uteri sounds really weird.) If you see me creeping up on your sweet newborn, don't be alarmed. I'm not attempting to kidnap them (I'm not starting over at this stage in the game dammit!), I'm just trying to sneak a sniff of that sweet baby smell.

 

Maybe, if I look really pathetic, I may even be able to hold that sweet baby for a minute? No? Because you don't know me? Fair. And because it's uber creepy? Also fair. Just one more sniff though? O-kay. And I'm backing away from the crazy eyed lady holding a taser now. 

Need more mayhem? Look for me on FaceBook (Modern Mom Mayhem) or on that Instagram thingy (modernmommayhem).