Of course, I'm not exactly ready to give up the Friday afternoon beers, so maybe we'll give it a few years...

One annoying thing I'm finding about being 28 is that it seems I can finally say I'm too old for things. I've recently started doing a little bit of radio journalism now and then, and find that the 18-year-old interns can churn that stuff out in milliseconds while I mess about clumsily with the edit program. Maybe "too late" is too harsh, but I'm entering the field somewhat late. And slowly. Of course I recently heard a show in which it was stated that Diane Rehm, of the NPR "Diane Rehm Show" was an intern at 35. And it's not that I want to have my own radio show or anything (but if you are reading this and would like to give me my own radio show, a book offer or job as a travel journalist, yes, yes, I accept), it's just that I'm displeased that I can even say "I might be too old for that" when confronted with certain situations. I know, deep down, it's not true, but admit it, when you're 28 and you've been out, like, four nights in a row, and on the fifth night you say, "Hey guys, I'm done, I gotta stay in on the couch in my pj's and watch TV," there less apt to say, "Shut it, loser!" and hand you a purple shot that reeks of Jaeger, like when you're 27.

But that's not exactly my point. In fact, it's the opposite of my point. One of the things that finally feels appropriate at this age is wanting to have children. Now hold it right there, friends, I'm not actually having children, I'm just talking about the feeling of wanting to have them. For instance today, when a former newspaper employee brought in her toddler and six-month-old and, after playing with them, I got the urge to chuck my birth control in the nearest dumpster. I know the time isn't right right now, so don't worry, I'm not gonna have babies that have to live in our washing machine or anything (because, honest to God, that's where they'd have to live) I'm just surprised at these feelings, especially since as a younger girl I always admired my mother, who had me and my brother at 35 and 39 because, hey, that's what she felt like doing. Of course, I also vowed I wouldn't get married until 30, and that dream went down the tubes shortly after J and I started living together and I began initiating simply delightful conversations that began, "I just...I just don't think it's fair..."

I mean, it could be the whole Hollywood baby surge, what with Britney and her babies (and her very visible underwear) and Angelina and her multi-colored family, and all, but probably not. I think it's a natural part of my getting older. And of course I'll wait until it's a good time for us to have children. It's just a, well - it's a nice feeling.

I do realize, of course, that once they're past babyhood they reach teenage-hood and however they turn out they are yours for 18 (+) years, and that the desire to have a baby is different than the desire to have a real, full-grown little person, but I'm not too worried, because with J around I figure they'll always have something completely wholesome and amazing to do, like make some art from found plywood or fill the woodpecker feeder with suet, and I won't have to worry about them doing drugs or being sassy until they're about 25.