reality... or something like it.

I spent this past Friday helping my mother with a classroom party at my little brothers school. Since it's Christmas time, we decided to kick Christmas vacation off with a bang.

During our little party, we did a craft, the kids got to make ornaments. Super cute, and the kids seemed to enjoy them. But, while they were putting them together I was up at the front of the class room, cutting some papers for my mom, I over heard a group of little 6th grade girls talking.

I only heard a few quick lines, but it was enough for me to drop my jaw, and ask "really?" The one little girl I heard, proudly shouted, " Well, when I have a baby, I am going to name her..." and then she was drowned out by the yelling and screaming of the other children.

Now, I know that girls have a stronger desire towards parenting, but really, does it start that soon? and honestly all I could think was, yeah that's what you think now, til you grow up and you find out your uterus isn't any good...

Man talk about being the Scrooge of fertility. I am even considering bashing the dreams of a 12 year old.

But let's face it, as another Christmas comes to an end, and the months continue to move by, I am growing accept the idea, that perhaps I am not meant to cut it as a parent.. I honestly have this thought going over and over again in my head, attempting to convince myself that I don't really like kids. That perhaps I am just meant to adopt a few small dogs, love them, let them love me, and live my life.

I know, I know, not really the most motivational speech to oneself.. But I think I deserve to vent for a minute, and bitch just a little bit, about my bitterness. You spend so much time putting on a face for the world, being happy. Don't get me wrong, I am truly happy for those in my life that are given such a great opportunity to become parents, but lets face it, we are still a little bitter about the whole thing.

I won' ever get to know that feeling of my baby kicking me from the inside, I may never even get the feeling of holding my own child. But, at least at one point in my life, when I was 12 I still believed that I was going to be a mom. Heck, I may have even been that little girl in the my sixth grade class talking about what name to give my babies... That's the crappy part of reality, it smashes your dreams, faster than it took us to imagine them.