Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock - BULLSHIT!

The other day I was driving home from work and it hit me: I'm 29.

Clearly, I've known this since March 18, 2004, but it didn't really click.

See, the thing is, my mom had my brother when she was 29.

She was always my "marker."

When I got married at 20 I said to myself, "Mom had Curl at 29: I've got loads of time."

Only, here I am at 29 with no husband and no intentions of remarrying.

So, what now?

I know a lot of women who proudly say, "I've known my whole life the one thing I want most is to be married and have children," I can honestly say that was never me.

I was dating a "younger" guy when I was 18 (he was 16) and his sister (14) asked me how I'd planned out my future. I went on about finishing school, working and becoming successful.

And she says, "Okay, but what about getting married, having kids . . . " I just looked at her a bit stunned and said, "Hmm, I guess I just figure that will fall into place when the time is right."

And then, two years later I was married.

I know that at first I didn't want kids. I wanted time with my husband, time to finish school and time to start a career.

But then, I started to realize that I wanted kids, just not with J.

So, I started snarling at other people's children. Really putting on a good act because everyone thought I hated kids when the truth is I love kids.

I used to work as a party hostess for little kids' birthdays, I volunteered at the Children's Museum, I even volunteered as a Teacher's Aide for a Kindergarten teacher, and I loved every minute of it.

On some level, I must have known that things weren't right between J and I. I think we all have that nagging little voice that pipes up when things aren't right, but you choose not to listen to it because then you might have to do something about it.

A few months ago I visited with an old friend and I got to hold her 7-month-old and there was a part of me that wanted to cry.

Mind you, this is one of the most beautiful babies I've ever seen: red hair, milky white skin, rosy cheeks and huge (I mean HUGE, like the Campbell's Soup kids HUGE, but not as creepy) blue eyes.

Right at the second when she was handed over to me, she looked up at me and just broke out into this huge toothless grin: the steel restraints I'd put on my ovaries finally gave way, and for the first time in years I thought:

"Fuck! I want children."

I don't think it was my biological clock ticking.

I don't think it's because I'm one year away from 30.

I think it's that I'm finally allowing myself to admit it's okay to want children.

But, I'm not going to rush things.

When I meet the right man: the one that makes me feel safe, cared for and protected, I'll know.

I'll know it when I realize I want my future children to have his eyes or his dimples.

Until then, I'm not sweating it.

Anyway, mom was 34 when she had me.