Last Sunday my Darling Husband and I went out for brunch at a local pub a couple of blocks away from where we live. After countless cups of coffee we decided to walk a bit and shake off the caffeine jitters. While out we happened upon a couple of open houses, and while we're not in the market to buy at the moment we decided to check them out.
The lure of open houses is that it satisfies a certain curiosity about how your 'neighbors' live -- especially how they decorate their homes. We saw a couple of gorgeous town houses. Ironically, we came across baby rooms in both. There must be something in our neighborhood that makes people want to flee once they have babies. I have noticed lots of baby carriages but nary an older toddler. Guess they're spooked to have children grow up in an urban environment.
Back to the baby rooms and baby paraphernilia. I must admit that it really did not bother me. In the recent past it would have provoked many emotions, from sadness to envy, perhaps even feelings of being incomplete or being inadequate as a woman. Yes, sometimes I did feel inadequate. You know the feeling: why can't I have this baby room and fill it with a baby? But, honestly, last Sunday I didn't have those emotions when seeing the cradles; I just thought how cute the items were and that was it! Darling Husband and I spoke more about setting up a home office where the nursery was. It wasn't until later that I realized that I had not reacted emotionally to all the baby stuff. Maybe the longing is on its deathbed, but I am so happy it's no longer consuming me.
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