I’m 54 and I want a baby!
A baby? A what? Yes, that’s right. A little snuggling ball of human cuteness
and perfection. A baby. Give me a baby!
Why now at 54 you may well ask, as isn’t there some moral dilemma,
or order of life as to the use-by date for babies? Do I feel this because of my impending death,
as I am over the halfway mark to my centenary? It’s weird you may think as to
my longing for a baby at my age, but who actually set the right age factor here
for longing for a baby?
Obviously the 3 dogs that follow me around the house asthough they were giant rats and I’m the pied piper,
are not filling this baby urge!
You’re probably at this stage thinking “Oh Jules… the ISSUE is your madness is leading you straight into a current affair show, with the HEADLINE,
“54-year-old woman with no uterus, wants baby!”
Well, that’s just it. The real issue! No uterus does not “maketh
“the baby!
Now that I have wowed you into weird thoughts about my
sanity, I will invite you to relax, as in fact, I don’t want to HAVE a baby. I WANT
a baby. That’s right. I want to be a Xoomer Nanna.
So why the urge now I wonder, and has it got something to do with my inability to create and hold life post hysterectomy? Who knows? That’s one for a psychologist to sort out.
What I do know is that recently as I left church waving to my German slap dancing friend Pete, his young boy spotted me and with arms outstretched, ran towards me loudly commanding my attention with the words “Nanna!” I melted into a momentary oblivion of bliss. Apparently, I found out later I look like German Nanna!
Upon reflection my response intrigued me, as that moment saw a flash of evil thoughts stemming from a gooey warm place. How dare I think such evil upon leaving church! But evil thoughts prevailed. Could I in actual fact pretend I was German Nanna, and brush up on my Guten Tag and drop Kuchen cake on a regular basis to my new “grandchild’? Or could I go one step further into the dark realm of nanna desire, and steal a child!
Scarily, my evil thought interlude didn’t stop there, as I thought about tampering with the contraception of my own daughter in this quest to be Nanna. Heaven forbid I’m losing my mind! I beg you , lock me up and throw away the key if I step over this crazy Nanna- nut line of thought to behaviour!
Finally, after much soul forgiveness, my evil mind abated to a semblance of normality, and all of these pangs for a little person to nurture had disappeared. Well, almost disappeared … until … my very clever writer friend, Cherie Lee, dropped to my home with her 6-month-old daughter Matilda.
Her bubba. My bubba!
For two hours I pretended to be interested in Cherie’s life conversations, (I wonder if she will still like me after reading that?) but really, I was revelling in the presence of this princess child. Her perfect skin, her explorative expression, her vulnerability at all life will throw at her. Her trust that Mum, and I had her safe from the licks of the giant dog rats. The dog rats being my substitute furry babies who in Matilda’s presence were just that. Rats.
Sadly, this Nanna Need Session came to an end, but without the expected pit of I am not a real Nanna depression, that I expected upon their departure.
You see, after Mum and Bubba left, I felt a substantial level of gratitude and joy, as though I had eaten the best baby meal in the world. Well not literally of course, but I had a sense that all in the universe was right in it’s belly. I even tried to bottled little Matilda in a photo such was the effect of her presence.
A small child, a baby, reminding us that all is in order in life. Life is perfect if we open ourselves to what young children offer and remind us about purity, balance, and goodness in the world. Simplicity of love at its best.
Ironically this is what Christmas means to me and so many.
The celebration of a baby who would change the course of the world. Our
world.
Like Matilda, Cherie’s sponge child of knowledge, I am so happy to know the true meaning of Christmas and absorb it into my being. And this I wish for you dear reader.
So Merry Christmas from this XOOMER NANNA, and note, if I had to write a Dear Santa letter, addressed to my children of course, I would ask for a baby in my sack! Just saying kids!
HO HO The Anxious Bird