You are my friend. I love you but I do not love your children or your pets.
So as time passes, naturally most of our married friends are having children or have toddlers. Be that as it may, I can safely say I am absolutely not ready for a child at all. I relish my 30 minute showers, 20 minutes for makeup and another 20 for hair. I love my leisurely trips to the mall where I can linger in a shoe store for 40 minutes trying on every pair of ankle boots they have. I love that I can get dressed in 5 minutes and head out to Starbucks, Target, Walmart and get gas all on my own time table.
Recently I have been trying to spend time with friends who have children because you know, that’s what friends do, they hang out. I find myself wincing as I ask, “Will your precious angel be joining us?” Then, feeling a sense of rage and annoyance when they say, “Yes.”
God can’t a woman get coffee and chat without a 2 year old screaming for Dora on the iPad?!
I am not a bad person because I do not enjoy the company of a toddler. Infants are fine but once they can walk and talk I simply don’t have patience.
That must be a sure fire sign I am not ready to be a mom, and worst of all my mom friends all tell me that.
When their precious angel screams at the top of his lungs that they are Captain America or their slobbering pit bull lab mix lobs 80 pounds of joy all over me, perhaps I indeed make a face and they always call me on it. Oh well, no one is perfect.
But seriously though, I’m not ready to drag around a stroller and Goldfish everywhere I go. Spending time with my mom friends has become a chore, half the time plans are canceled because their precious angel didn’t take a nap or their baby sitter canceled. What could have been a lovely chat at the local coffee house is now: entertain this tiny human for 45 minutes while we try to explain to them that they cannot drink coffee.
Recently we had friends over for dinner and they ended up bringing their 3 year old. Mind you we do not have a kid friendly house at all. At least every ten minutes, he was asking to play with something that was definitely not a toy. And of course…getting upset when we told him no. All I could think was, “Dear god child, if you think I’m going to let you play with my Fender you’ve got another thing coming.”
I have to keep telling myself I’m just not ready. It’s not that the instinct isn’t there. I just don’t want to use it. I understand why mothers go crazy and why they drink so much wine! But what I don’t understand is why we let people tell us it’s not ok to not be ready. As I write this, I’m ironically waiting for a friend who has a toddler who didn’t have a nap and canceled our coffee date plans. So now we are meeting at her house and I get to sit on her dog hair infested couch with her screaming, grouchy two year old running from one room to the other – not the way I imagined my day going. But like I said, she is my friend and I love her.
I guess in conclusion to this rant, vent fest, whatever you want to call it, I’ve decided that perhaps the exposure therapy I was attempting in spending time with my friend’s children simply isn’t the best way to get myself “ready” for a baby. I am quickly approaching the next decade of my life and many friends and family members are beginning to look on with judging, prying eyes, as if to say “Well? Where’s the pregnancy announcement?” Is it wrong to feel that I am not ready to destroy my body on purpose? I’m not ready to give up my life the way it is? My love affair with coffee is simply too strong to give it up for 9 months and then spend the next 6 years explaining to a tiny human why they can’t drink it.
At first I thought, “Wow, I am just not the mothering type.” But one of my best friends said, “When it’s your own, it’s different.” I certainly hope she’s right!