I'm talking about babies and the regret that comes a little while after you put up the closed for business sign and throw out the welcome door mat, once and for all.
The craving isn't there all the time, just every now and then. Like when I get to hold a newborn and I smell that sweet talcum powder baby smell and they make those cute gurgling noises. I'm not talking about the gurgling noises they make as they chuck up over your shoulder. I have selective memory and that is one of the things I choose to forget.
The decision to get my hubby desexed wasn't one we made on the spur of the moment. OK so the decision may have been partially (like a lot) influenced by a number of moments where the kids were doing their best devil child impersonations, but overall a lot of thought and discussion went into it.
What I didn't expect is that I might change my mind a few months down the track.
Here's where I give you my full permission to slap me in the face like really hard. You can then sit me down and recount the numerous horror stories I have told you about my kids when they were toddlers, about the multiple visits to Drs to extract things from noses, and children who insisted on acting like a dog and would only eat their dinner if you served it in a bowl on the floor.
But you can slap all you like, the reality is that thanks to Pinterest my ovaries are screaming at me to makeover a new baby nursery. I linger far too long over the Baby clothes in catalogues, get a little too excited with Baby Showers and I make far too many clucking sounds and mooshy baby faces at strangers prams in the supermarket.
Maybe it is because my baby is growing up too quickly and starts school next year and I am getting all nostalgic and sentimental. Perhaps it is because I had broken legs for my last two babies and I missed being a real mum in many senses. It could be that I am so over the stabby uterus every month and I am aching for a 9 month break.
Or lets face it - this all could just be a case of the recent bout of gastro spreading to my head and giving me really shitty ideas.
Whatever the case may be it is a moot point and the baking oven is closed, the roadblocks are well and truly up and the tide is out for the little swimmers. Clearly I am just having one of my moments and need to get over it.
Someone hand me a screaming reflux baby with a pocket full of poop STAT. I am beginning to scare my hubby and he is starting to wander around with his hands permanently nested over his private parts.
Maybe I should just stare at my face in the picture below for a little while and try and relive that moment..... though it has to be said I was rather partial to that happy gas.
Have you ever wondered if you closed shop too early?
Do you ovaries ache at the sight of a shiny newborn?