So the Farewell to Independence Tour is booked, but it's left me wondering what will happen after the trip. This weekend raised a lot of questions and left me decidely uncomfortable.
We spent most of Saturday at our best friends' country home--and The Banker and I thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We brought the dogs out and let them swim in the pond, rode the tractor, chatted, ate ourselves silly, and played with their adorable son. This little boy is the happiest, most loving little one I've ever encountered. While I know he's not an angel all the time, he does have an amazing disposition and is an utter joy. He was in a great mood all day, and I was left with the impression that, yes, I could see myself doing this one day.
But then Sunday night rolled around, and The Banker and I babysat his nephew for a few hours. A few long hours. The longest, most uncomfortable few hours I'd spent in a long time. And here my blissful thoughts of childbearing came to a screeching halt.
I hate to admit this. It's proof that I'm really not a very good person. You see, as much as I adore my best friends' child, I don't have any feelings for a babe who is, technically, family. Yes the kid is cute, but he doesn't pull at my heartstrings. In fact, on Sunday night, he turned my stomach again and again. No, it wasn't the diapers--that doesn't faze me. But the poor thing was fighting a cold so there were constant rivulets of snot rolling down his face. And he refused to eat, smashing what little morsels he would take into his eyes and hair. The rest? He tossed on the floor. He even took his bottle and slammed it nipple-down to watch the formula squirt out. And when I firmly said "No!" to this behavior, he screamed. And screamed. And screamed. And it was then I understood why some parents walk away. Why some parents drink.
And it struck me that maybe I don't have what it takes to be a mom. If snot and messy eating heighten my gag reflex, if screaming and obstinate little ones make me question my sanity, then maybe I'm not the best person to have kids. How can I feel it's so right one day and so terrible the next? And why do I feel so thoroughly crappy for feeling this way?
4 comments:
OK, breathe, Kat. As PS has told me many times, it's different when it's your kid.
And I have to hope she's right, because there are a lot of kids who drive me absolutely bonkers.
After one day with the two rugrats my mom used to nanny for, I left a message on my grandma's answering machine letting her know that she'd never have great-grandbabies.
I have had a few other better baby encounters since then, but I'm not on the baby bandwagon yet.
I still can't see myself having a baby--or caring for one. The last time I walked a dog, it ran out into the street and was nearly killed. And I think I'd be better with a kid?
"I will be different when it's your baby," PS says over and over in my head. I don't fully believe her now, perhaps one day I will.
Don't feel bad about not wanting children now.
It may simply not be your time to want that.
And that's okay.
And if you decide that you don't want children all-together...well, that's okay too.
The important thing is, if you do decide to be a parent, you will know why you want to be one, and will have some idea of how you want to parent. Fortunately there all kinds of good advice books out there on skillful parenting, discipline, etc. So, if you do decide to get on the baby-wagon, you can do so as an informed parent. Something that you, your significant other, and the child will greatly appreciated.
Myself, I've adopted the motto: "Child free is the way to be." It's probably because I'm too selfish to give myself up to another creature. Nevertheless, if I do dive into parenthood, it will be as an adoptive mom.
It's a choice I've made. It may not be for everyone. But it was right for me.
Good luck figuring out your stance on babies!
Fun blog, BTW.
Many of my friends have children. They are all loving, and incredibly attentive parents. But I'm not certain any one of them would say that having a child was superior to being without. At best they will say the most suprising thing is realizing "that (I) could love another person this much."
On more than one occassion, I've fielded phone calls from desperate-new-mom friends-of-mine who were, literally, at their wits end. (Probably from lack of sleep more than anything.)
On those days, I think they would trade their motherhood in for a good night's sleep.
So much for the million-baby plan.
Neither my wife nor I had any natural skill for dealing with babies. I STILL don't care to deal with other people's babies, but there is some truth, as the queen said above, that it's different when they're yours.
They're still gross, of course, but your tolerance threshold for that stuff goes up. At least enough so that you don't kill them.
Callow Queen--I really hope you're right. I guess I'd assumed the "maternal instinct" would apply to ALL little ones.
Cave-Woman--Thanks for your comments! I think you're exactly right about waiting till I'm ready, becoming informed, and also accepting it if all signs point toward "not for me."
MM--In my defense, I said I'd HAVE a million of your babies, not that I'd RAISE them. =-) It's so reassuring that the best blog dad I know and his lovely wife weren't naturals at this childrearing thing. Oh, and yes, that it's OKAY to be grossed out at times.
Thank you all for your thoughtful advice!
Your very appreciative,
Kat
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