Oh Baby, Baby, Baby..

I am totally, completely obsessed with babies. If anyone saw Disney's Babies, you know what I'm talking about. It showcased four babies from all corners of the Earth over the course of two years and it shows how different their upbringings are. My friend Tori told me that the documentary was pointless. No offense to the future Valedictorian of Butler High School's class of 2011, but I completley disagree. I think watching four bundles of joy live their ordinary yet extraordinary lives on the silver screen was an awesome way to spend an hour and a half.

I know what your thinking: "Maria, that's just plain creepy." Rest assured, I'm not obsessed in the way that you should lock up your infants in fear that I will steal them in the middle of the night, a la Brian David Mitchell. I'm simply obsessed in the way that I think chubby, adorable human beings rolling around on the floor are the cutest things in the whole entire world.

Although most of my friends don't want children of their own [Tori even told me she couldn't handle her own kids and she would, "probably kill them."] I don't share their same point of view. I love kids and can't wait to have children of my own. Don't get me wrong, I can wait 8 years until I'm married and happily in love, but the ultimate dream of my life is to drive around a big black Escalade with 5 chubby-cheeked, dark haired, freckle-faced kids in booster seats in the back seat.

I'm pretty much aware that if your reading this post, you think I'm certafiably insane. After all, I am the girl that drug Tori through the Target baby section for 45 minutes picking out a baby shower gift when I hadn't even received the invitation at the time. But the biggest reason I love babies is the gorgeous one that blessed my life. My cousin Megan is my best friend in the entire world and four days before my 16th birthday, on November 13, 2008, her son, Casey Gregg Seiber entered the world and made me the happiest "auntie" on the face of the Earth. I see him at least once a week, thanks to the fact that he lives 3 minutes away and every time I hear his little feet pitter-pattering on the kitchen floor running to give me a hug my heart just melts. All of my problems fade away and I am completley entranced by a little boy who isn't even potty trained.

So yes, I might be obsessed with living things under 3 feet tall, but my obsession stems from the fact that no matter what they do, they can always make me smile (:

With Love,
Maria