Today in health class, our topic was sex. Now, we've already had this talk plenty of times; pretty much every year they beat this into us so we never forget. However, I was a bit surprised at how our teacher decided to kick off the subject. It seemed almost entirely unrelated to me at the time, but she did tie it into sex.
She asked our small and completely not-talkative group how many of us wanted to have children. Out of the maybe twelve or thirteen of us, I was the only person who thought maybe, and there was probably only one or two people who didn't raise their hands at all. I was appalled that all these girls, with whom I talked and laughed and joked on a daily basis, were so decided about their future. Not only that, though, but at our age, I would assume we would all scoff and say, "Little kids are annoying and we definitely don't want to have to share a bed and house and paycheck with them; are you kidding?"
Even though not all of us did answer yes to her question, our teacher went around the room inquiring at about what age we would probably have our first kid. Mostly the answers were late-twenties to early- and mid-thirties, and my friend made everybody laugh when she perked right up and said "Twenty-six." I'm blown away at how these same people who barely do their homework most of the time and complain about school have motherhood on their checklist for the future.
I've been thinking about this subject seriously for the past couple months. (No, not the subject of being a teen mom, but having kids or not, and if I do, when I'm in and around thirty years old.) When I was little, I was pretty obsessed with it. Instead of playing "House," my brother and I played "Mom-Kid," where I was the perpetually-pregnant mom and he was my teenage son. My fantasy for the future was to live in a red-bricked house in Mexico with some guy named "Mhichlil (supposed to be Michael; I was also obsessed with that name)" and have two kids named Zella and Derek. That doesn't seem weird, but I wrote that all this would happen when I was a hundred years old. (Okay, so as kids we think we're going to live forever.) From the sulky age of thirteen till pretty recently, I swore to be single forever - or, at least, for the next eighty years. I wasn't up for a boyfriend, and certainly not a husband, and kids did seem incredibly obnoxious to me.
So, what made me sort of change my mind, you may ask? Not any specific thing, but I have written out stories where I am in my thirties with a child or two and I describe parenthood in terms of how awesomely-behaved the kid is. As I see it now, kids are never awesomely behaved, and they are quite the exact opposite when they're very young. I have gone through infancy and toddler-hood (which I don't remember), and childhood was the only memorable and likable time of my past so far. I am currently going through adolescence, and, let me refresh all y'all's memory: it's not the best time of your life. You thought it was but it most certainly is not.
Here are some recently-written journal entries that both support having kids and completely shoot it down.
Don't all the positive situations where you have three kids sound smashing? Just kidding, but cuddling on the couch to watch TV with three little ones piled on you sounds snuggly warm, and running around with two of them under your arms and one around your neck/on your back seems like the ultimate playtime. But three puking kids? (Any puking kids? Yuck.) Three kids screaming in tantrum at the store? Three sulky teenagers holding a grudge by slamming and locking bedroom doors?
excerpt taken from journal; written on October 7, 2013
Okay, on the one hand, [having kids] seems fun, right? And motherly love is probably the best kind out there. But I always put it this way - they eventually become teenagers. Also, they are crying, puking babies; then screaming, puking toddlers; then (the only good time period) they're wondering, inquisitive, imaginative, and curious kids (from 4/5 to 10-12); then they're awful, sulky, bitter, moody, hormonal teenagers who will probably do something reckless with drugs or in sex; then (if you're lucky), they go off to college and leave you home and alone by yourself; then after that (if you're SUPER lucky) they might call you up on the phone for depressing small-talk or visit you on important holidays with their spouses and kids, which makes you feel even older and sadder and more alone than ever; then (if you won the lottery or Publisher's Clearing House sweepstakes; I'm serious, man, you're not going to get this lucky) they'll make some dreary speech at your boring-ass funeral that totally just makes you seem like a lame mother and an even lamer human being. So yeah. Why would anyone want to be subjected to that for the remainder of your life?
excerpt taken from journal; written on November 15, 2013
From my standpoint, which mostly focuses on all the negative, I completely don't understand why anyone would willingly jump into that shark tank. But, at the same time, I ponder the good aspects of it - being able to teach your child as much of the world as you can and watching their curiosity flower through the years. Well, as it is, I'm far too young to be definitively deciding on any of these things just yet. When I actually come or don't come to this bridge, I will likely have a much different perspective and have a more mature and better planned out answer.
