Guys, I’m pregnant. I told my boyfriend he was going to be a daddy for Father’s Day.

…not. Hahaha. (But no, really — I think that would be the cutest and arguably the best way to inform your significant other that you’re about to have a child if you guys were actually planning on it.)

The point of this post? To narrate my adventures in the world of baby care! This summer, I chanced upon and took advantage of the opportunity to shadow a pediatrician. Needless to say, it’s a lot different than what I expected it to be — I was expecting to really hate it or maybe even not to care for it. Most of the time, I can only stand babies and toddlers when they’re quiet, and when I see and hear little kids crying, throwing temper tantrums, and making an overall fuss in any public place, I tend to get a little irritated.

But after roughly 4 days of following a pediatrician around, I find myself enamoured by babies. I’ve seen teeny tiny premature babies, chubby cooing babies, toddlers, small children, and teenagers — my favorite ones to see are definitely the 3 year old babies; they’re much easier to handle during a regular check up (not as much screaming!). Winner of the highest cute factor are definitely babies 2 years old or younger; premies win highest fascination factor (their fingers and toes are so tiny, so I just keep staring at them).

I don’t know if this is a common thing or what, but being surrounded by so many tiny people kind of makes me want to have a baby of my own. And I know that’s just blasphemy, and I’m not ready for the responsibility (not to mention there’s no way I can independently support myself, much less a baby), but those are the kind of thoughts that are running in my head. At this point, I can’t wait to settle down, buy a house, and start reproducing. Hahaha.