We all know I’m a baby monger.
I love, love, love babies.
Like, to the point that if you have a baby and bring it in the same vicinity as me, chances are I will probably make you AND your baby uncomfortable with how much I fawn over it.
I even ended the last relationship because the other person didn’t want kids. (And then I made a Vine about how good it feels to not have a boyfriend.)
But until I can have my own children, a close second-best is enjoying my sister’s. I can’t help but laugh at this phase that my nieces are all in right now, where they are talking and cracking jokes and singing along to every latest pop hit.
Here’s a list of things they said just last night:
Aspen (7): I went to the Nutcracker ballet and the boys wear tights and YOU CAN SEE THEIR WIENERS. I bet they’re not even wearing any underwear.
Saige (4, when I handed her a breadstick): I appreciate that Aubrey!
Saige (referring to my hand that just had surgery): How do you even drive?
Me: With one hand.
Saige: That’s weird.
Sierra (2): I love you Aubrey…so much.
Ashley: How much do you love mom?
Sierra: …A little bit.
Ever since I can remember my biggest fear – bar none – was living alone.
And up until last year, I never really had to. I was able to transition from my parents to my grandmother’s basement to marriage.
On my first venture into residing solo, I rented a creepy little house on a busy street in Provo. The rent was insane and the house was over 120 years old but they accepted my gigantic ass dog, which was important.
When asked how my first week was I responded, “I am pretty sure by now there are no ghosts. Just wolf spiders and hobos from the shady motel close by.”
But even with the abundance of eight legged creepy crawlies (not that I was shocked, once when I lived in Gram’s house a bat fell down the chimney and I’m pretty sure there’s still a video of it on my YouTube channel) and shitty heating and ugly yellow walls, living alone wasn’t so bad.
With the exception of the night that my Newfoundland stopped someone from breaking in.
That was rull scurry.
Oh and the fact that the guy who got arrested for showing me and my best friend his penis when we were 14 lived right behind me. Take note kids: if a dude pulls up, flashes you and asks you to come play with his peen? Don’t. Get his license plate number and call the cops instead.
Thanks to Timehop (the app we all love to hate), I was alerted that I moved into this house that I’m in now a year ago, the one that I bought all by my very self.
I’m happy to say there are significantly less spiders, hobos, flashers, attempted break-ins and ugly walls.
It scares me now, when I think of just how close I was to it.
To another marriage.
Granted, the proposal was nothing more than a text to pick out a ring or wind up with an ugly one. But I heeded it. I had the ring picked out, the dress selected to be tried on, and the destination decided for some far off beach in the Bahamas.
And then not three days after excitedly discussing every aspect, he ended it.
And there’s just no going from almost engaged to over and back. So I let that be the end of a nearly year-long relationship.
It’s a relief, a dodged bullet that I didn’t wind up marrying that man. Because for all his wonderful qualities, what we each wanted out of life was – is – so vastly different. And it would have been doing both of us a disservice to pretend that we could mesh what we both wanted together.
“Unless it’s mad, passionate, extraordinary love, it’s a waste of your time. There are too many mediocre things in life. Love shouldn’t be one of them.”
– Dreams for an Insomniac
34 years ago, a man a woman boarded a train to elope.
They had barely enough money for the tickets to Denver and back, and what little they had left went to sharing a soda and a bag of chips on the ride home.
Since then have had four beautiful daughters, who had beautiful grandkids (or um, pets in my case).
Thank you, mom and dad for having such a beautiful legacy. Life hasn’t always been easy but I admire the example of love and dedication you guys have for each other, and I hope to have a marriage like yours some day. Love you.