I just logged in to Facebook to see a blissful announcement: My best friend's sister is having her first baby! It's exciting and only the 345369813490834* announcement this week.
My Facebook is flooded with ultrasound pictures, announcements of gender and pictures of newly decorated nurseries. It's all adorable and a little overwhelming. I know, of course, that it isn't nearly as overwhelming for me as it is for those who have to carry and raise the little bundles of joy and snot, but for some reason, it seems to raise the stakes for me. I am a naturally competitive person. I don't think child-bearing should be a competitive sport, but it does make me want to join in on the fun even more than before.
For the record, I know someone who really did use child-bearing as a competitive sport. My mom's best friend's husband is the oldest of 16. His mother and her sister tried to out-child each other, and it resulted is 16 for one and 15 for another. Thankfully, my competitive streak stops well before that. Also, I don't have any sisters, so I don't need to worry about the damage to my nethers that over-reproduction can cause.
But, I digress.
Anyway, I know I'll just have to deal with the pangs and the frustration while hubster and I work out the right time and how this all will work. I don't even think they're jealousy pangs. Maybe they're born from indecision. Is it right to want something just because someone else has it? Obviously, it's more than that at it's core, but I probably wouldn't be having such a pronounced struggle if it didn't have it rubbed in my face fairly frequently by those bastards that I call friends. How dare these so-called confidantes have their own lives where they get what I think I want before I do. How rude!
Yeah, Okay. Maybe not so much. I'll return to being terribly happy for them and leave the self-centered crap behind. I get a few moments (and a blog) of self-indulgence, then it's back to being my awesome, giving, endlessly humble self.
It's hip to be square, kids.