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Boonville Daily News - Boonville, MO
  • The Way it is: Babies, babies, the magical fruit

  • Babies are fabulous creatures. The way they smell, the noises the make, their constant need for your attention, it's mesmerizing.



    They're like the magical fruit. The more you're around them, the more you want one (that is, if you're a professional gal like myself).


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  • Babies are fabulous creatures. The way they smell, the noises the make, their constant need for your attention, it's mesmerizing.
    They're like the magical fruit. The more you're around them, the more you want one (that is, if you're a professional gal like myself).
    It's becoming frighteningly more and more apparent that somewhere along the lines, I put my career, lifestyle, male counterpart and love for my fur babies above having children of my own. And Facebook won't let me forget that fact.
    My life has spiraled into some formula and diaper driven frenzy. Gone are the days that my Facebook newsfeed was occupied by sorority stories and fraternity fibs. Gone are the photos of 10-carat diamonds the size of my head and the reception photos that followed.
    My refrigerator is a testament to the direction my life has, or maybe hasn't, taken. Save the dates and wedding invites have now been hidden behind giant, flower beanies and pacifiers.
    Babies are everywhere.
    My friends were adamant that I (and the rest of the world) see the latest photos of rolling, feeding, crying, laughing and smiling. For awhile, I did a decent job of keeping my distance, not ready to admit that my friends were becoming parents, until a few days ago.
    Call it "baby fever" or "the toddler trance." Whatever you call it, it made me succumb to what ended up a five-hour drive back to where I grew up.
    Recently, (OK, so six months or more ago) several of my childhood friends became parents. It was a regular baby boom.
    Crumbling under the pressures of Facebook and photos on my fridge, I had to meet the little buggers — hence, my trek across the Midwest.
    After two full days of nothing but pure baby bliss, I headed back home to my apparently unusual life thinking I'd stifled the calls of babies everywhere, for another six months at least.
    Boy, was I wrong.
    Three days later, and a few weeks ahead of schedule, The Man's family welcomed a little one.
    No matter how professional or opposed to traditional lifestyles I try to be, I've made sure that 7-pound 8-ounce bundle of joy is pictured all over my Facebook — and fridge.
    While I may not be ready for the full-time gig of human burp rag or personal swing just yet, I'm not opposed to the idea of babysitting. I like knowing that after I have just fed them an entire bottle and spent what should have been nap time as play time, that I can load them up and send them back to Mom. (Sorry girls.)
    —Megan Tilk is a reporter who also writes a weekly column for the Boonville Daily News. She can be reached at bdnmegan@gmail.com or through her blog: megantilk.blogspot .com.
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