Everyone is having babies. My Facebook feed is covered in new arrivals and ultrasound pictures and soon-to-be-grandparent announcements.
It's even better that it's not me.
Don't get me wrong, I've been jonesing for a little one to smell and snuggle and hold and cuddle and smell. Did I mention smelling? Yeah. I need a hit of that sweet baby smell. And washing Bitsy's nearly 7 year old hair with Johnson and Johnson's shampoo, slathering her in Baby Magic lotion, and wrapping her in Dreft washed jammies just isn't the same. Don't ask why I know that. I just do.
Luckily Rachie, Husband's cousin, is expecting. I'm really hoping she'll cash in some of that free babysitting I owe her from years past. But in reality I know I'm going to have to stand in line to get to the bundle of joy and, quite possibly wrestle him/her away from a certain hyperactive grandpa or two grabby aunts who won't want to share (Yeah, A Starry Night, I'm talking about you and your darling SIL), but I'm pretty sure I can take them. Well, the short one, anyway.
Actually, I'm just uber thrilled that our Rachie is going to have a baby. I'm so excited to see the next round of cousins having babies. I'm excited to see our family grow. With so many cousins I know it will just keep growing and growing and growing.
But mostly I want to smell a baby.