May. 13th, 2008

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May. 13th, 2008 05:07 pm
polyhorde: (Default)
It's quite odd to think that the skill set that comes easiest, the one I am most comfortable with and typically derive the most overall enjoyment from is the same skills required by mothers. I like to think I'd be a good mother - I'm loving, tender, patient, calm in a crisis, relatively organized, playful, a good storyteller, a good listener, a good cook. I've been a teacher an surrogate mother to my friends since middle school. Most people use me as an advice columnist and I'm more than happy to help . . .
Why is it that at twenty I'm thinking about babies? I have no career future, I'm unmarried and likely to remain so, I'm barely more than a child myself but still I want . . . . .
It would be a nightmare that would utterly absorb my life for 20 years at least. I'll be exhausted, irritable, aching, I'll grow resentful and bitter, and hate my life and wish I had done something with it before giving it up to these screaming hellions.
But then I think about first steps, first laugh, first word. Watching dreadful school plays and applauding madly at the end. Helping build science fair projects. Sewing Halloween costumes and holding hands as we go knock on doors. Teaching them to bake cookies and Macaroni and Cheese. Watching then hide behind me the first time they meet a 6 foot tall rat (Mickey Mouse). Watching my mother coo over them while my dad joshes my husband. Playfully grilling the first boy who comes to pick her up for a date.
*sigh* Too young, just too young.

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polyhorde: (Default)
Jess

August 2010

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