home is where one starts from

the color of new

my sister carson is seven and she still smells like a baby. when i hug her i ask how she managed to keep that new smell. she just smiles.
i'm not a baby person, but i've been fascinated with them lately. i know part of this has to do with my siblings having their own children this year. but more than that, when i see a baby i see something that's brand new, and right now i want to know anything new. i love holding and breathing in their newness. they are pure potential.
i recently had a dream that i can't get over. i want to be back inside of it--i want the feeling of it back. in the dream i was pregnant with a boy, and i was planning on naming him simon. i was still me in my life now, meaning i was still single and without a real job. so i thought to myself in the dream that my chances for finding a husband had just greatly decreased, but i didn't really care. then i thought about how i should probably start looking for a job that pays real money--consistently. in the dream i was quite aware that i suddenly had to be very responsible, that i that i had a burden, but in my dream i was smiling. the warm feeling of joy overshadowed any anxiety i might have about the future. it was such a good feeling. i want that feeling back--peace in uncertainty. anticipation.
this past sunday i sat in church staring at the stained glass windows. they weren't that magnificent, but i have a game i play with all stained glass windows. when i lived in massachusetts i went to an episcopal church that had an amazing abstract stained glass window at the front of the sanctuary. each sunday i would pick which color i was in the window. sometimes i wanted to disappear into a deep purple, or feel the energy of a bright red piece. occasionally i picked a calm blue. maybe once i was yellow. this past sunday i was stuck on a window that was mostly peach/pink. it made me think warm, calm, womb, new.
so this is where i am, who i am right now.
i certainly have enough siblings and nieces and nephews to show me exactly why i want kids, but also to remind me why i am perfectly happy not to have my own right now. so in all of this, i'm not saying i want a child now... rather i am feeling kind of like how i imagine a pregnant woman to feel. life to me is a tiny bit frightening, but somehow safe, and i am all anticipation. i am the baby right now.