The miracle of life.

I miss my family.


(my pops and me)

I miss my papa and my mama and all my sisters and brothers.

Not only are my brothers and my littlest sister growing up practically not knowing me, but my niece will proably not know me much at all either.

It makes me sad in a lot of ways.

I guess thinking there's a "greater good" in it for my future in there somewhere makes up for it somehow, but when I feel like this sometimes, there's nothing I can think of except that I miss them. Not only that, but I am missing out on them.

. . .

Today we went to Victoria's going away party. She's heading out to Arizona for a few years, and there were quite a few small children and pregnancies at her par-tay.

You might think that it would make a genetically fecund and childbearing-aged woman such as myself want to have my own children, but nay, it is not so. I am too busy feeling guilty about the lack of familial familiarity to want to have children of my own to neglect. Indeed, it is in fact this lack of being there that is part of the drive to be child-free, whatever that means.

Another part (or perhaps one that dovetails) is that I just don't have the time or space in my heart or life for another person — let alone one that will demand all the things that an infant would. I really don't think I need more tiny humans in my life.

Like, ever.

Sorry, hopeful grandparents everywhere. Them's the breaks.