And Then I Cried Real Salty Tears

First off I would like to thank all of my lovers for having a sense of humor and actually enjoying my POST yesterday about Britney's being children.

I mean what's the point in being a lady if we can't act like dudes and complain about being ladies? Am I right?

So, in real terms, I am so glad you are all sickos right along with me in this crazy place we call life blogland.

And we now bring you back to normal programming where the sass subsides (just a bit) and you get a little more sap. Since, you know, I do in fact have a heart and not just an annoying vajeen.

Glad we got that cleared up.

~

You know, I never thought I'd be a crazy mom. I never pictured myself as the mom who would cry over every new chapter in her child's life.

I couldn't see myself as the mommy that got emotional over every new step, tooth, award, graduation ceremony, etc. Honestly I'm just not that emotional in life, I don't give a flying owl's hoot about much so I just couldn't fathom being "that" mom.

But then I babysat a handsome homeboy of a little puppy for seven days and my heart just melted to pieces and my vision of mommyhood all changed. Over a freakin' puppy! Not even a little angel of a child that beats half of my blood through its own chest.


I got to hangout with Colby (the fake teddy bear Muppet of a real life puppy) for a whole week. I got to know his quirks better than I know my own, and let's be honest I have A TON of quirks!

I knew when he needed to pee because he would casually lay down at the end of my bed and occasionally let out a soft yip for no apparent reason and just simply stare at me.
He would snuggle his butt right up next to mine when he got cold from the AC. He would pretend to play tug of war with himself if I randomly grabbed for his toy even if I never touched it.
He wouldn't eat his food unless I stayed in the room with him until he finished it all.
The only time he would sit patiently was  if I put his harness on to go outside. He would run up and down my building's hallway stopping at my door and turning right back around to meet me wherever I was, repeating the game until I finally got to the door.


He was the cutest little bugger ever.

I got to know him down to the three puffs of white hair gathered underneath his belly. I pretended he was my own in the elevator when everyone and their mother asked about him. What his name was. How old he was. What kind of puppy he was. I met more potential boyfriends in the past week because of him than I have in the past four months. I quite honestly loved that little homeboy. And I only had his fluffy little self for a week long.


I felt awful all day yesterday knowing I had to give him back to his real mom. I kissed his sweet little head more times than I've drank Blue Moons in the past six months. And that my friends is a lot.

I dropped him off at 11:30 last night and held back the emotions until I finally reached the bottom step of Colby's mommy's apt building and then the tears flowed. TEARS! Real salty freaking streaking tears ladies. He was only a puppy. I only watched him for a week. Who the heck am I? First Armageddon, now this?!

And as I type this in my bed with the AC blasting I stretch out my feet expecting to feel his soft furbaby hair slide between my toes.
I take a break from tapping away at this keyboard and go to reach for him to come snuggle me.
I hear a door creak and expect a loud squeak from him.
But alas, he is not there.
 He's not at the bottom of the bed snuggle up next to me staring.
And my hearts breaks. Even if he never was mine. Even if I am a crazy furbaby sitter.


And this craziness, this ridiculousness is exactly why I know my lifelong dream job to be a momma isn't total crazy talk. I swear it's what I was destined to be in life. Maybe in my next one I can be a Marine Biologist and save dolphins or I can be a stunt double for Katie Holmes and kick a scientologist's ass but in this one I think I'm all nurturer.

Don't get me wrong, I have the grades, the ambition, the skill set and the drive to become some corporate mogul but that's just NOT my passion. As much as I'd like to be climbing up the corporate ladder it just isn't me. It doesn't excite me, and instead it makes me feel trapped.

By this point half of you must be wondering if I'm using a freak puppy sitting experience to validate why I'm okay with the fact that I'm pregnant but SYKE I am absolutely not.

I mean I did just write an entire post on vajayjays being bitches yesterday but hey I still take care of that child for the sole reason that I don't want to end up with an actual child just yet.


The actual point of this post is that even if I don't have the desire to pursue the usual corporate 9-6 desk job in my business casual attire khaki colored skirt and Tory Burch flats it doesn't mean I'm any less driven in life.
I've just simply realized my passions don't reside in an office building.
At least at this point...

I need something less structured.
Something that I can make all by myself.
Something that gives me the freedom to go to the beach on a Wednesday if I just so happen to want to do that before I turn 65.
You know before I have skin hanging down to my Britney and all.


My real passion lies in caring for little babes. Whether it be for a mister man that insists on sitting down in the elevator on the way to the lobby causing me to have to pick his butt up in order to get him outside or whether it's babysitting a three and a half year old little girl that was born early and has had developmental issues from the start and needs a tender loving heart to make her smile and laugh every day.

That's where I feel I need and want to be at this point in my life. That would make me happy. Make me satisfied. That's the kind of job I need to seek out.

I may struggle to make the bills.
I may not be able to buy that outrageously priced Victoria's Secret Giants half zip-up hoody...
 or those new destroyed denim skinnies...
 or my drunken unnecessary weekend trips to McDonald's...
 or a new camera that does everything short of a round off back hand spring... or an entire tap worth of Blue Moon...
but at least I'll finally be doing something I enjoy.
Something I feel good about doing, no matter how minuscule it may seem to anyone else.

We can only choose one path here on Earth.
We are blessed to live in a country where we have the opportunity to choose whichever destiny we want to live out.
 We only get one life.
I'm just trying to live it in the best way I know how.