Apart from the influx of people on the beaches of Playa del Carmen over the weekend, Easter came and went for us without much hoopla. There weren’t even any discounted Easter eggs in the supermarket yesterday because, well, there weren’t ever any Easter eggs in the supermarket.
When I lived in Australia, the brightly coloured, foil covered Easter eggs on the shelves in Coles were my only reminder that Easter was approaching. When the first bunny ears appeared on the shelves in February, I’d roll my eyes along with the other shoppers and throw out exasperated comments like, “Easter eggs, already?” never thinking that there would come a day when I would give my left little toe (I’m not that desperate) for the delightful ‘snap, snap!’ of refrigerated Cadbury milk-chocolate eggs.
So maybe it was my low blood sugar that was to blame for the strange moment I had in the baby clothes section of Walmart yesterday. We got lost looking for tea towels and somehow ended up there. I mean, they really know how to get a childless, chocolate-yearning 32 year-old woman don’t they? Tiny pink stripey onesies with matching socks and teeny turtle t-shirts screaming out to my empty womb like candy to a kid.
My friend back home just had a little girl, so I thought maybe I could get the onesie for her to satiate my strange attraction to miniature clothing, but then I remembered the postal system in Mexico to be abysmal and the chance of it actually reaching Australia, slim to none.
Obviously, despite my travelling lifestyle and feeling like my life is finally on its true course, I am not immune to biology or adorable children’s wear. Sometimes I’m so adamant that motherhood isn’t for me, and then occasionally, in the baby section of Walmart or more commonly when I’m having a particularly ‘in love’ day with Tyrhone, I entertain the thought, thinking I’d be missing out if I didn’t experience the life-affirming process of creating a little person.
Yes, the FOMO* is strong is this one.
And then there’s Tyrhone, who acts so nonchalant about the whole thing, throwing out comments like, “I like babies but I couldn’t eat a whole one,” but then gets within a few meters of a little person and is reduced to a smiling, waving, coohing mess, crying “they like me!” if one happens to turn their bobbly head and googly eyes his way.
It hasn’t helped that we have traveled through countries which seem to have the most beautiful babies – Thailand, Cambodia, Laos, China, Mexico- I mean these people are creating some adorable small versions of themselves, let me tell you.
Coming home and seeing this photo on Facebook of my two little nieces in my Mum’s backyard on Easter Sunday almost unhinged me. I missed them so much recently it really threatened to put a damper on this whole travel-the-world-and-live-my-dreams malarkey…
Then last night I got an email from my Mum asking to Skype because she had Olivia, my nearly 4 year-old niece at her place, who had just asked where I lived and if she could come and see me. I choked back the tears over the Skype call as Mum let hers flow, retelling the story to me while Olivia ate her cereal and completely ignored me.
Before long, though, we were singing songs accompanied by Tyrhone’s terrible guitar playing (seriously, he’s like a performing seal when it comes to kids), counting in Spanish and having a nice little breakfast date. Man, that girl can put away some cereal, let me tell ya.
I guess the holidays bring up a lot of feelings, even without the requisite chocolate bunnies to go along with them. Because the truth is, I have my hands pretty full taking care of myself, not just physically, but spiritually and emotionally, let alone the 31 year old bearded baby I live with. There is still so much I want to do, we want to do, and the potential of what is ahead for us in the next couple of years is so exciting because it’s not planned out.
I’m free, and it feels wonderful. I’m really not ready to give that up for a pink onesie or a turtle t-shirt any time soon.
I don’t know what the future holds, no one does, so all I can do is have the best right now that I can. I’m just very grateful to be an Aunty to the two most gorgeous kids on the planet, who can still ignore me over their breakfast like normal nieces, thanks to the wonders of technology.
How lucky we all are.
*FOMO, or Fear Of Missing Out is a serious condition treated by mindfulness meditation and Facebook abstinence