Missing a gene?

I have steadily come to the realization in my old age (of 26, soon to be 27) that I am missing the so-called "maternal, feminine gene" that so many of my female friends and family have. The gene that makes one giddy and not horrified at the prospect of having children. The gene that makes one coo and drool and gush over the children of others. The gene that almost magnetically draws the women to the kitchen at Thanksgiving and the gene that similarly draws the men to the TV set on turkey day. The gene that makes one love to scrapbook and brunch and discuss men, mortgages, and marriages. (I do, however, have a great alliterative gene...Heh.) There's nothing wrong at all with this gene, and certainly it's not always specific to women. With my family, though, it is. And that's my disclaimer for the rest:

I wonder if I'll ever develop this gene. Even as a child, I avoided the kitchen like the plague at family gatherings. This was like a deep black hole of old school estrogen and activities that drove me crazy. How can you ladies be sitting in here chatting about the best recipe you discovered in Ladies Home Journal, when the guys are sitting out there watching Westerns and drinking Coke? Could you be more boring? These are not the thoughts of a 26 year old or even an angsty adolescent. I'm talking about being 5 or 6 years old and being completely baffled by this. Who wants to learn to baste a turkey (an extremely useful skill, no doubt) when there's soda and The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly out in the living room? My mother was scared for my husband when we got engaged. Apparently if I'm not skilled at the domestic arts, we might starve to death and begin to resemble Pig Pen from the Peanuts comics. To paraphrase an old college friend, 1950 called, and they want their ideas back. But I digress...

My stepbrother-in-law and his wife just had a baby after getting pregnant on their honeymoon (on purpose, might I add!!) This, of course, brought on the inevitable comments inquiring when we're having children and "oh, don't you look CUTE holding him!" Ugh, let me gouge out an eye now. Creating life is beautiful and necessary to continuing life on Earth. Kids are adorable and innocent and true blessings--I'm not a complete grinch! I applaud (and, to be quite honest, almost envy) those who have this above mentioned gene that makes them want to be mothers (or fathers--I guess I should clarify that I'm generalizing in this post about my own family--obviously not all women are like this!) I believe I have perpetual aunt syndrome. Rather than "always a bridesmaid, never a bride", my take on it is "always an aunt, never a mother".

My mom always said I'd be this way till I got married and had a kid. Well, 1 out of 2 has come and gone, and I still prefer drinks and Man Vs. Wild (last Easter) to perusing Martha Stewart's cupcake cookbooks and discussing snotty noses (also last Easter). I think my mom and I both know I'm a lost cause. I ruined 3 consecutive bowls of instant Malt-O-Meal yesterday (Jacob finally helped me an then fixed me some dinner). My 15 year old brother can bake better cookies than me. From scratch. I can't sew or knit and can only very poorly crochet (Jacob, however, can knit scarves that look store bought--they're beautiful!). I'm lightyears away from wanting kids (Jacob wants a "little red-haired girl" circa Charlie Brown's perpetual love interest in Peanuts). At holiday gatherings, Jacob goes to the kitchen, braves its contents--people and otherwise-- and gets me a Coke to have while we watch John Wayne movies (to which I introduced him). All of this makes me feel a little better, and I suspect is why we complement each other so well: Maybe I don't need to find my "missing" gene--I married someone with it. :o)

What a random string of thoughts here. I didn't sleep well last night. I'm blaming that.