hot babe

unprotected love, even just once, can bear fruit in that indescribable miracle called life.

the other night i dreamed that my 2-year old son had gone from 2 to 20 and no longer wanted to sleep beside me. i woke up with a yawning hole in my chest, gnats of fear nibbling at the edges. there my toddler lay, breathing peacefully, all of 2 years and 8 months. i embraced him gently and waited for the light of day to brighten the room.

in that hazy world between fiery bursts of temper and blissful lassitude, i recall the times i yearn to be single again, to be accountable to no one but my whims, where the world is a snug fit around my shoulders and every additional piece of furniture exists at the fingertip of complete control. i sit very still, paralysed for endless lifetimes until the moment passes and the sun's slant has changed degree.

until recently. there was this irrational urge to cast aside all the questions and doubts nagging me the last months: if you have a baby soon, you'll not be able to travel. what about your plans to see europe? there's still so much to see. you've made so many new friends; how the hell will you be mobile now? heck, a family package of three is unwieldy enough and you still want to burden yourself with a fourth member? then there are all those potentially fun sleepovers in hidden corners of suburbia where only the unmarried are invited. (i asked a good friend why people thought only singles got lonely; one could be in the company of relatives and friends and still want a change of scenery is my perennial lament. the answer was horridly simplistic - singles are more flexible. ergo... )

the pendulum has swung slowly, irrevocably, to the other side. suddenly, this degree i'm pursuing means nothing. (when has it? wry smile) i've been tucking away memories and friendships into the heart's album the last few days; the uncharacteristic warmth of january has helped me to store these thoughts away lovingly as i wander among leuven's countless soldens and promoties. when the son turns 3, i pray to be on the way with his playmate. he is so affectionate towards other babies. intuition whispers he'll make a cool kuya. have i still something to prove as a mother? why this surging desire for the swollen abdomen? (aha, i know: i get my porn star boobs back!) and what timing, too! how the hey now do i do the "lande" routine this coming summer if i'm in oversized pants and tops? and what about the drinking sessions with my new friends...?

there's no turning back. i'm a crazed monster beckoning to those millions of xy-chromosomes. come to mommy, now. *lights out*