Reality Biteth

Who the heck knows who reads my blog. I know there are a bunch of silent lurkers out there, whether they be family (hi Mom), close friends, acquaintances, or strangers, and even ex-boyfriends. The proverbial struggle of a blogger is to be transparent with her readers, but safeguard her heart. Maybe I just don't care tonight because I've had a bad day....

Lately, I've got the baby bug. That's really scary to say out loud, especially to all of you. I mean, I don't want a baby today, tomorrow, or next week---I'd just like to know that maybe I'm on the baby track. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Serious Brown, Jr. in a baby carriage...

Why do I feel the need to justify that emotion? Can't I say that out loud without adopting a label of "desperation," "self-pity," and "lameness?" It's quite possibly my own insecurities creating this perception of myself, but even this admittance doesn't take away the doubts about my aging ovaries or my lack of viable prospects.

I am going to be such a good wife and mother someday. It kind of feels like a waste of talent in the meantime. I do domesticity so well.

You'll say, "it will happen for you, Mary Anna." Will it really? Can you say that with certainty? I'm not a glass-half-empty kinda gal, but seriously...reality bites...