Baby Phobia.

My dear friend Kim finally had her baby the other day. A couple hours after she got home from the doctor with orders to get ready to go to the hospital for an induction, she went into labor. Clearly, this kid wants things her way or no way. She must take after me.

I visited the hospital to check on Kim and Kim Jr. After chatting for a while with her, Baby Daddy, and Baby Grandma, the dreaded question was asked: "Do you want to hold her?"

Me: Ack! I'm scared of babies. And they're scared of me, too. I might drop her.
Baby Grandma: You won't drop her.
Me: Babies wiggle. She might just wiggle right onto the floor.
Baby Grandma: She's too little to wiggle! Don't be afraid.

So, rather than be shown up by an infant, I reluctantly agreed to hold her. They handed me a tiny little pink football and snapped some pictures while laughing at my complete and total awkwardness and ineptitude with children. Luckily for both me and Kim Jr., she didn't move an inch. But she did make an awful face at me.

Me, responding to the awful face: Kim Jr., I know you don't really like me right now. But when you're 16 and I buy you beer, you'll love me. Just wait.
Kim: You can buy her beer when she's 21.
Me: I'm sure you're praying that she's not like you were when you were a teenager. But, turnabout is fair play!
Baby Daddy: And she's not dating until she's 35!
Me, whispering to Kim Jr. (as if she understands a word of this): Don't worry, you can bring boys to my house. I won't rat you out to the parents.
Kim: Don't you think it might be a little suspicious when Aunt LST lives 50 miles away and is babysitting for her when she's 17?
Me, to Kim Jr.: I guess we're not gonna win this one, kid.

I got back to my dad's house and he asked me about the baby and how Kim was doing, etc. The funny thing about my dad is that he seems to think that engagement and pregnancy are illnesses that can spread through person-to-person contact, at least where I am concerned. After every wedding I go to, he asks if it gave me "wedding fever." "Of course it didn't," I say. His response is usually something like, "Thank fucking Christ."

So of course, during Kim's pregnancy he was definitely concerned that it might somehow rub off on me. After I threw her a shower a few weeks ago, he asked, "So does this mean you want a baby?" And my response was a resounding, "Hell no!" much to his relief.

Despite my phobia of babies and children, I'm starting to warm up to the idea of being "cool Aunt LST," the one who lets Kim Jr. drink at my house when she's spending the night, teaches her how to drive a five-speed, and convinces Kim and Baby Daddy to let her get a dog. This situation might work out pretty well, I think.

No Regrets.

I've been obsessing lately about making career choices. I don't want to realize in ten years that I have sacrificed important moments with my friends and loved ones for my job. The job will be there tomorrow. My friends and family may not be. There may not be another holiday dinner with the Group. There may not be another chance to visit an elderly relative - I learned that the hard, painful way when my grandfather passed away. Aside from unbelievable grief, regret was the most overwhelming feeling I had (which probably fueled my grief to some extent).

The Office had an outing last week to see "The Devil Wears Prada." While I enjoyed the movie and thought it was funny, parts of it hit a nerve with me. I don't want to be the girl that no one can count on anymore because she's a workaholic. I already feel I've let down so many people this summer. So many times I've had to postpone my weekend trips to visit the Beef in Little A-Town. So many dinners I've had to bail on with my dad. This summer, I have been That Girl.

On Monday, I put my foot down and put myself and my friends ahead of my job. My best friend from high school, K, graduated from college, and I promised I'd be there. I told the Boss I had to leave at noon to be at an important event for a friend. We have a major brief due this week, but I left work in time to get to the graduation. It felt so good to be there for K on such a big occasion. For one day, I was no longer That Girl. For one day, my friends trusted me. For one day, I had no regrets.