chron·i·cles: Sally Forth!

Clearly, I love them. And if it hasn't been said yet, I do want them! Maybe even a couple of them. But it just doesn't feel like it's in the cards for me right now. Something that came up in conversation at my brother's Going Away Party jabbed me in the ribs. Apparently, at this rate, I will be in my 50s (and even more appallingly, potentially in my 60s) before my hypothetical kids graduate high school. Oh yeah, no body thought that was a great inevitability.

For the most part, it needs to be said, I'm really am very comfortable with the idea that I'm not ready to have kids. My late night life of bartending and tripping-the-light-fantastic isn't exactly conducive to this baby-making picture of myself I try often to form in my head. I LOVE my life with my Honey just the way it is. We are finally both comfortable with ourselves as individuals and rock together as a couple. I simply cannot imagine *deciding* that it's time to change that. 

What I've been thinking is that I almost envy those who get pregnant without planning to because I know once I do get that bun in the oven, I'm going to throw myself headfirst into the excitement of it. This lifestyle blog will become a baby blog over night! But how, I ask you, do you *decide* to take that lifestyle-to-baby leap??

Now, I hear you all already in my head. The decision happens naturally and I'm sure that is true for most everyone. But as I near closer to 31 (that birthday is quickly approaching, by the way: March 18th!), I am beginning to doubt that that is the case for me. My lifestyle is actually becoming less and less baby friendly, where I imagine most adult lives become more so. I mean, I've just taken a bartending gig at what has turned out to be more night club than restaurant. I get home some nights at 4am. I wear stupidly tight clothing. My waist line affects my bottom line. We dump our dogs off places so we can run off somewhere. Hell, I even have an IUD I must *decide* to remove by a medical professional -painfully- before I can even *decide* to conceive! These are huge steps for me!

The upshot is that I've been saying I'm on a Two Year Family Plan for a long time now and I'm neglecting to shorten that time frame whenever it comes up in conversation. Babies are perpetually Two Years away. 

But why? My inner reasoning (in no real order):

* I don't want to be a pregnant bartender. But this money is INSANE and also part of our Two Year Plan is buying a place in which to house this lovely family. This is my time to "stack that cash," as Matt is fond of putting it.

* A big promotion may actually be in the cards for Matt this year (fingers crossed!), which will change our lives. With us both bringing down that moolah, maybe we can buy a place sooner, speeding this whole plan up. One way or the other, we'll have that ever elusive nest egg.

* With Matt's career evolving, I'll have a great safety net god-forbid my body hates being pregnant. I've never exactly been the healthiest little lady and without going into it right now there has always been cause to believe that I may not be able to easily carry a baby to full term. That's major. We have to know that we can support ourselves (and preferably still save), if one of us (Read: me) can't work. What if I get put on bed rest four months in? We need good insurance. We need a support system. 

* I don't want to be pregnant at my wedding. A belly is not going to fly in the dresses that I'm considering. I like my vanity - leave it alone.

And then there is the Big Picture. I LOVE the idea of having a little Matt look-alike running around, but can I close my eyes and picture it? Nope. Why that matters, I don't know. But it does to me. When I close my eyes, I see us. Just us. And since I'm nuts, my heart feels like that's a sign. I've never actually said this to anyone. I may not have even said this to myself before, but I rely heavily on my inner photo gallery. When I see something clearly, I focus in on it and I obtain it. It's how I have remained so driven all these years. These inner films play how I truly want things to be and then I make it happen. I force life to squeak out what I demand of it. It works. It works really well for me. 

So I can't picture it right now. I picture it in Two Years. Will that change? Potentially. Hell, I'd say Likely. Two years ago, I couldn't picture it at all. 

So I'm going to be in my 50's when my kid graduates high school. So what. There's nothing I can do about that now and time has revealed that not having kids in my 20s with that crappy x-husband was totally for the best. I listened to my gut then and now I have Matt, the best father any little tyke could ever hope for. 

Will I be in my 60s? I'm confident in predicting no to that. But really, so what if I am? I'll find a way to make that work for us too. I'll still be the same girl then as I am now. The kind of girl who can put life in a head lock and make it give her what she wants.

Until I *decide* to decide all that, I'm going back to being 30... and fabulous... and free.