I have never been into babies.  I know, I know, this sounds cold-hearted, and everyone looks at me like I committed some sort of mortal sin when I admit this, but it’s true.  The only thing going for them is that they are cute.  Well, sometimes.  I know some seriously ugly babies, so I’m not sure what they have going for them.  They are helpless, smelly, needy, cry all the time, make you lose sleep, totally time-consuming, and I never seem to see my friends again once they have one.  But, alas, yet another one of my friends had a baby, so although I skipped the baby shower (I hate those things) I sent a nice package with some winnie the pooh crib bedding for that little rascal to sleep on.  I’m happy for them and all, since the couple really wanted a baby, but I am not particularly looking forward to that era in my life.  The era of changing tables, baby-proofing your house, givng up your hobbies for a couple of long years, birthday parties with millions of kids ransacking your house, followed by rebellious teenager years, and then finally by giving all your money to them for college.  All in hopes that they could someday be lucky enough to do it all over again.  wow.  I have a depressing outlook on all of this.