Kids, in January 2018, random babies were literally throwing themselves at me…

At McDonald’s while I was chowing down a Happy Meal (quit judging me, HMs are like 20 bucks cheaper AND I was collecting toys for my younger cousin Israh… that’s my story and I am sticking to it!)

At Spar, when I was doing my evening shopping.

Those cute dimples, the curly hair, the womb-tugging giggles that rose from their little bellies as they delighted in my cooing at them.

These run-ins  constantly  had me fantasizing about dressing you guys up in Wonder Woman or Superman costumes for your first photo shoot…

My biological clock wasn’t ticking so much as it was imitating the Jumanji’s insane drumming schtick:

The only New Year’s resolution I’d made was that man or no man, come hell or high water, I was having you in 2020 and I knew I was working hard on my mind, body ( by restarting my ankle-interruptus running career) and soul ( more travel, less drama) to get to that goal.

Seeing adorable babies just made the need to have you a little too much to bear, my loves…