Childhood Joys

During a typical sidewalk stroll, my eyes dart to the windows of clothing boutiques and coffee shops.  I think, can I afford that dress and do I really need more caffeine in my bloodstream.  Without having any children (and not being a child), toy stores allude me and playgrounds may or may not exist, I haven't noticed.  It's the wine shops and new restaurants that grab my attention.  But lately, with babies on my brain, I'm suddenly noticing bits of everyday life that I've ignored for the past couple decades.  I've found myself seeing the colorful, child-enticing particulars of my neighborhood - the balloons, the gumball machines and the motorized, lightning dragon-horse-snail.   

I totally acknowledge that this last photo doesn't appear entirely child-friendly (at all) given the manhole, orange safety cone and thick, metal chain...but you can imagine how child-friendly it would look minus all those things.

Things You Must Do With a Baby

I've categorized a few posts as Things You Can't Do With a Baby (i.e. sleep and get fall down drunk).  Living in the limbo of post wedding season and pre child birth, I can't help but consider the things that I will lose when I have baby.  With that next step on the horizon, I have an enduring feeling that I must get in all of my wild and crazy moments now.  I am ever conscious of the small and big ways that my day-to-day will change with pregnancy and motherhood.  The truth is that I will have plenty of wild and crazy moments post child, but I find myself obsessing over my baby bucket list.

And then I saw the following during a commercial break from the Bachelorette (of course I watch, did you expect any less?).

My childhood memories set to the sounds of Keane were perfection.  The original cast in their original glory.  No uber modern, 3-D, high tech upgrade.  The authentic look and feel.  Simple and classic.  Winnie the Pooh.

I made it halfway through the 2 minute 11 second preview before my eyes started to water.  I literally felt a lump in my throat - that cliched, but genuine, ache around where I imagine my tonsils begin.  I thankfully held it together, then turned to my husband (who was doing his best to ignore the Bachelorette and read a weird sci fi book) and said, "That is why we must have a baby."

Oh bother.