What I have been thinking about and what I want to write about right now is: I want another baby.
Really want one.
When my beautiful niece was born just over a year ago I really thought her arrival would sort of put me off the idea. Or at least quench the cluckiness. If you know what I mean.
Watching Yolanda and her husband suffer through the first year of their baby's life (as most parents usually do) was suppose to turn me off having another kid. But of course it didn't. That gorgeous child just awakened my ovaries making me as clucky as I've ever been.
Except for the worry that Mala's food allergies cause her parents that beautiful little girl is a pretty easy kid. And I didn't just watch from a distance while my sister was on maternity leave settling the baby, feeding her and all the other jobs that come with a new child. I was there helping out. Three days a week for six months and now twice a week I get to spend eight hours a day with her. It is bliss.
I absolutely love being Ned's mum and Mala's aunty but I want more. I want another child of my own. A brother or sister for Ned. He is four and I'm am nearly 40.
It is time.
There's only one thing missing.
A father. Where for art thou man?
I love being a sole parent to Ned but I don't think I can do it again for a second child. I'd really like to meet someone and go about the whole making babies thing the usual way: meet, fall in love, fall pregnant. I don't even care about marriage. A good relationship - yes. But I don't need a ring on my finger or the big wedding.
Like I wrote about last week in my Sober Guide to Dating, I've been 'out there' for the last 18 months. I did the numbers and I've met 10 different blokes in that time. There is currently one still on the 'maybe' list but none of the others have worked out.
|I have heart and I know how to use it|
On this blog I always avoid talking about other people. I'm sure I sound totally self involved but this is my blog and these are my stories and I feel that it is not my place to discuss other people's lives. But I will mention abstractly that I know I'm not alone in this dating abyss.
I have many girlfriends who are in the same boat: 30s to 40s single and wanting to meet a nice guy to settle down with and have a family. Why the fuck is it so hard? We are awesome! We have so much to give! Where are all the good men in Sydney?
I can't help but constantly go over in my head what my faults are. Why has not a single man (except for one which I didn't care for enough in return) I have met and liked returned the feeling? What am I doing wrong? Do I play the dating game incorrectly? Is it because I am overweight? That I have a child? That I don't drink? Am I overbearing? Unattractive? Not smart enough? Too smart? Too opinionated? Is it because I don't work (even though I have an income)? Do I come across as too needy? Is it because I live part time with my parents? Am I too tall? Is it because I have tattoos?
Over and over again I wonder: What the fuck is wrong with me?
I also have to ask, where are all the good guys? The gentlemen? The men who know how to treat a woman? The confident blokes with interests outside their own careers? The men with good taste in music and an opinion on politics? Why are so many guys I meet on diets? Almost every man on the dating site I am on 'works out at the gym 4-6 times a week' or at least says he does. I don't fucking care! I like a guy who cares about how he dresses and puts a bit of time into his appearance - a metro man - but seriously, dying out the grey in your hair? Women hate that shit.
I could just scream!
I just googled 'IVF for single women' and found this article from the Sydney Morning Herald last year that talks about single women in their 30s turning to sperm donors to have a baby. If I had plenty of money I'd do it. But it is still kinda sad. Why is this becoming so common? Why are my girlfriends single?
Despite my past and my baggage, I know I am a great person. In fact what I have been through in the past has made me who I am today. I am fun, attractive, interesting, intelligent, have great taste in music and I'm a fucking awesome mother. Yeah, I am not a size fucking zero, but is that all that matters? I have substance and heart. I'm kind and I'm generous and I'm a great cook.
I probably shouldn't even post this post. It is a brain dump. No thought has been given to where I wanted this to conclude. I just had to vent.
Should I publish?
Fuck it I will.