Dear Mamaist:

Lately, I've been babysitting a lovely little girl two days a week. Her parents are close friends of mine, and they named her for one of their personal literary heroines, which you know I think is awesome. She's five months old and thinks just about everything I do is funny, except for when she's a little tired. But when she is tired, I put her down in her crib and play lullaby versions of Radiohead songs (also awesome), and she falls right to sleep. Sometimes, I think I missed my calling and that I should have just gone into nannying professionally.

But as much fun as I'm having, I'm learning that this is really hard work. All the awesomeness of hanging out with my new baby friend does come with a price. I don't think the muscles in my arms have felt this sore since I had the sadistic personal trainer who wanted me to try bench pressing half my body weight. My hair is getting pulled, my shirts are getting covered with baby drool, and I think I may need to invest in a good pair of kneepads, for all the time I'm spending on the floor playing baby games. I know I'm only doing this a few hours a week, but all of a sudden, I have even more respect for you than I already did. I mean, you did this, 24/7, three times. No wonder you drank so much coffee while we were growing up!

Despite the work required, I'm still coming home every night and gushing to Ross about all the cute baby things I got to witness. Something particularly cute might even deserve a text message or an email. I fear I may be getting a little bit of what a friend of mine called "babyitis." Oh, don't worry, Mom (or Ross): I'm not ready to have my own baby right now. What I'm thinking is more along the lines of a pet baby.

You see, it's not terribly easy to find a landlord in Philly that will let you have a dog (a.k.a. a "practice" baby), but you'd be hard-pressed to find a leasing agency that would ban a baby from the premises. (Unless you're looking to rent in a senior-living community, but that's different.) So what I want is to go to a place where I can pick out a baby to bring home with me (no nine nasty months of nausea and stretch marks) and find a cute little baby that, like a new puppy or kitten, has already figured out how to walk on its own. Standard adoption age for a pet is about eight weeks, so needless to say, this had better be an exemplary baby with strong muscle development and motor skills to be able to do this. I want to take her home, have her sniff around for a bit, and decide she likes it fine. She'll sleep or keep herself entertained most of the day while I work or run errands, and if she gets hungry or thirsty, she'll be able to find her bowl in the kitchen, no problem. She'll be adorable, of course, so that when my friends come over they can gush about her as they vie to be next to hold her on their laps. Three times a day, I'll take her on walks so she can do her business (diapers are so fattening!), and then we'll come home and she can curl up beside me while I try to catch up on Lost.

Sure, it may sound like a sure way to get Child Protective Services breathing down my neck, but you forget: what I want is a pet baby. Having my own child is a responsibility that I'm not ready to accept, but I love them, and I like the idea of having something small and cute and cuddly that needs me to take care of her. (The cats don't need me, other than when their food bowl is empty.) So if I can't have a puppy, and I'm not ready to be a mommy, so be it: bring on the pet baby!

Oh, and by the way, can you come babysit once she hits puberty?

Image Credit: Flickr user keeping it real