I have a confession to make.
This confession first comes with some context. My family is very close and valuable to me. My sister in law is my best friend and my platonic soul mate. And when they announced their first child, I was over the moon. I, at that point, was always the woman who aspired to be “that aunt”. The one who travels and has amazing stories, the aunt where the kids all squeal with excitement when aunt Carly is visiting. The aunt who hosts sleepovers, and nieces and nephews come to when they’re afraid to tell mum and dad. I never foresaw myself with kids of my own, and I accepted it. I didn’t really want kids, you know?
And now we fast forward to today, another niece or nephew on the way, and I’m over the moon to have more children to aunt. Really, I LOVE kids and I love my niece. She is my light. I have broken tradition, and I have been planning a small scale baby shower for the arrival of baby two. Primarily because I love any excuse to buy gifts for my little sprout, but just because I want to make my sister in law feel special. So, with all this in mind, I’ve been looking at baby EVERYTHING. Decorations, presents, everything. Now comes for the confession… I’ve been really finding this different kind of joy. I wouldn’t express is as usual baby fever. For me baby fever exists as like, niece and nephew fever. I’m always aching for more children to love, hehe. But, this is like a different joy, when I imagine making pancakes with my love while our kids sleep. On a Sunday morning, squeezing fresh orange juice with our little humans to bring to daddy while he sleeps. Celebrating father’s day, and helping them make cards. Picking out our first Christmas tree. Teaching them about the environment, and explaining to them the first time why mummy doesn’t eat meat. Little things that you don’t share with nieces and nephews.
My partner is the kind of man who is born to be daddy. He expressed early in our relationship that he dreams of raising two little humans and having a beautiful life with them. I have taken a lot of convincing. I have worries and concerns. Things I’m afraid of passing to my kids, failing as a parent, etc. But being an auntie helps me realise that a loving heart goes a long way. And no parent is perfect. No aunt is perfect. And although I’m truly not the natural mother type, growth is key.
Looking at all this baby stuff makes me dream of raising my own little woodland fairy children. Gardening in the summer sun while my wild children run through the grass and chase the beetles. Going and picking wild herbs and making things with them. Doing natural dye projects. Teaching them to ride bikes, and helping with homework. Things I never expected to daydream about! But I find myself fawning after just as many things for my own little family as I’m finding for my little sprout.
It’s funny, too, because I even find myself having a “young bohemian mum” aesthetic in my everyday life. How I dress and do my hair, they’re all things I do unintentionally but when I look in the mirror I see someone who will one day be more than “Aunt Carly”
Perhaps a lot of women my age think these things. But it hit me like a huge ocean wave. Here I am, planning a wedding, thinking about my future, my home, the man who will soon be my husband, decor, and all of a sudden motherhood. Those things sort of fall in line, you know? But, still, I never expected it.
I’m excited for all the details, choosing a name, learning to breastfeed, choosing outfits, teaching them to speak, to read, to paint. Introducing them to their amazing and sweet cousins, and watching them build a huge friendship. Watching them run free, barefoot in the grass, and jumping into the pond. Petting dogs and chasing birds. Climbing trees, telling stories, making friends. I daydream of raising sweet little hippie kids who laugh loudly and freely.
Perhaps this is a normal reaction, perhaps you’re reading this thinking “okay, so you’re the same as every woman in her mid twenties”. But to me, this is monumental. Today, I sent a photo to my fiance while at work, a sweet photo of a young boy and girl in the kitchen baking, and the photo taken I presume by one of the parents. It was something I saw on Pinterest, but the aesthetic of the photo, down to the kitchen decor and the clothes on the kids, was exactly what my little heart dreams of. Needless to say, he was thrilled to see such a thing sent from this former forever-aunt.
Although, I still dream of being that aunt, perhaps with a little less flourish, but I dream of being that aunt and those cousins, family D will always have an open door to their relatives. For grandma’s, grandpa’s, aunts and uncles.
I think I’m gonna be a pretty damn cool mum. When that time arrives.