Last night The Husband flopped onto our bed where I was lounging and reading a book, looked at me with a wickedness I rarely see and said “wanna have babies?” – ahem. I repeat, he said, WANNA HAVE BABIES? Now, my friends, I have been holding back from discussing the rampant baby wanting that rages in my blood, nay the very marrow of my bones, because why would you care to hear about that? [gee, Anjeanette, that would be awful in comparison with hearing about your depression and your fatassedness all of the time…(yes, I CAN read your minds with uncanny accuracy)]  Let’s just say, I’ve got a fever, and the only prescription, is babies. It’s ridiculous. I babysat maybe 3 times in my youth, because I hated children. Like, hated them. And avoided them. And wondered why they existed at all. My cousins were quite younger than me and my older sister babysat them all the time, but I could barely tolerate it. Why do they keep making noises? Can’t they just go outside and leave me here with my book? WHY ARE THEY SO HIGH MAINTENANCE? I told my mother, no less than 5,549,003 times that I would never have children, I did not want children, children were not for me, why would anyone want to have children. And she always said to me “someday you will”. And I’d scoff. All throughout my twenties I did everything possible to avoid having babies. My goal in life was to not have babies. Nothing would be worse than having babies. No babies no babies no babies – that was my motto. Still, my mother would say “just you wait, it’ll hit you”.  Scoff. No babies no babies NOOOOO BAAAAAABIES!! And then, one day, about a year ago, I was at a baby shower for a very pregnant friend and suddenly this little tickling sensation started in my little toes and worked it’s way up to my brain – b a b y. Want b a b y.  But it was a tiny little urge that came and went with my (WARNING: MENFOLK – TURN AWAY NOW, BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE) monthly cycle and I shrugged it off as hormones. But it kept growing, each month worse than the one before. The same friend brought her new, tiny baby into work and I was plotting out ways to steal it without her noticing. Then I started looking at all the baby pics on my friends’ facebook accounts. Then another lady at work brought her little two year old in and he handed me a sticky candy cane that he had been sucking on and smiled a little toddler smile.  B A B Y. Wantbaby. Wantbabynow. And every day, week, month I’m getting older so my biological clock is ticking like this and now it’s like I’m cookie monster up in here – M E  W A N T  B A B Y – OMNOMNOMNOM!!  And he comes in all nonchalantly thinking he’s funny and says “you want babies?” – thinking he can use it as a bargaining chip for something else he wants (that I’m not at liberty to disclose, don’t even ask, this means you RayRay, cuz I ain’t tellin’) – and MAN you just can’t mess with a girl like that. Really. But, this means there’s a chance he’ll let me have babies. Right?

In other news, I’m stuffing myself full of sugar trying on purpose to make myself sick because I want to give it (the sugar) up. Completely. And totally. And I’m starting (well, stopping technically) tomorrow. Yes, it sounds an awful lot like a diet, even though I said all of THIS, but really, I think I gotta. I’ve done it before, and man did I feel fucking fantastic. I gave up sugar for like two whole years! It was mostly about being thin, but the side effects were total bonuses –never having headaches or joint pains or gastrointestinal issues (see how I didn’t say diarrhea, gas and bloating?) and I swear to you it helps to mediate The Mood Disorder. Also, sugar makes me stupid (so quoteth my Grandpa Bud, and I swear he’s right – it’s like a brain fog you slip in and out of). So yeah. Sayonara sugar.