Maybe baby.

So I've returned my wedding dress. Donned the golden band. Shared my space with a boy. It's just a matter of time before the likes of the Spanish Inquisition come barging on my already-married door, demanding: "Ok, where's the baby?"

We want kids. That's something we established before getting married, along with "No more than two pets" and "Okay, only ONE room in the house will be pink." And my biological clock isn't just tick tocking. It's bang booming. I get all weak in the knees when I see tiny people clothes and even tinier shoes. I love the smell of baby powder. And I can't waiting to have an extension of us. A Melihaw. Doesn't help that peers around me are shooting babies out like fireworks on the Lunar New Year.

But recently, a tiny, whimpering voice in my head pleaded to me, "Wait just a liiiiitle bit more, ok?" and I felt a twinge of guilt. You see, as much as I can't wait to be a parent, I'm also itching to do other things before committing to such responsibility. Haw and I are working on our business plan, something that's going to take every inch of dedication at the moment and Project House means we're getting down and dirty on building our dream home. On top of that, I still have an itch to travel, just a bit more, before baby makes three. And yes, I know you can still travel with kids in tow but - ask any parent out there - it's not quite the same. I'm sorry if this is selfish but I'd still like to travel without worrying if there's a Happy Meal at the next stop or if the 7 Eleven sells diapers.

And yet, I don't know if I'm pushing my luck with waiting too long. What is 'too long' anyway? Six months? A year? Ideally, I'd like to have two kids but, if one spontaneously sexy night that involves the sentence "Don't worry, I'll be careful" leads to another, three is fine too. All I know for now is that I still need time to settle in with being a Mrs. Being a Mommy might take just a bit more time. But you know what they about Murphy and his law...