In addition to catching up at life at home, I’m also catching up with fun discussions that zoomed by in the blogosphere.

Megan of From the Archives wrote a sweet, honest post about being 35, desperately wanting kids, and worrying that her biological clock will turn off her dates. Crooked Timber picked up the post and some male commenters sneered.  Luckily, BitchPhD and MCM stepped up to bat in the comment section and defended the breeders and breeder-wanna-bees.  Jane Galt added, " The ticking of my biological clock is not the frantic spur that most women over thirty seem to feel; more like a pleasantly low hum."

This morning, I stroked the hair of a feverish five year old, while waiting for my mom to arrive.  The calavry.  I had to leave for school today.  I kept him company on the sofa, and we watched Dora The Explorer together for half an hour. For a moment, I wished I had twelve more of those little guys. It’s still possible in theory, but … well… I’m 41.  If we had started the family sooner, if we hadn’t had that long gap between number 1 and number 2, if we had finished graduate school sooner, if, if, if.

The funny thing about a biological clock is that it doesn’t stop after you have kids. In fact, I think you want them more after they hand your baby for the first time all damp and red.

I’m grateful for our two. I’m also grateful that I don’t have to worry about dating guys who don’t get it and, judging from the comment section at Crooked Timber, there are some guys who don’t get it.