To Quote Daria

 tumblr_mcxn35C1Ci1rwjzpqo1_500

989965c7be6aec56b5d97b27351d398d

When the typical person thinks about a little girl and her potential toy they probably get the image of a baby doll.  Cute little kid running around with a doll that goes everywhere with her.  Tea parties, dress up, doctor, house.  The usual thing for a young one.  Dreams of being a mommy and raising kids, making a friend being the father.

Me?  I don’t remember baby dolls.  I think they were there but I don’t remember dragging them with me.  I played with the TMNT figures with a younger neighbor kid, Godzilla too.  I remember being upset that I had to be Maid Marion while playing Robin Hood (I wanted to be Robin Hood’s sister, who did the same stuff he did).  My Barbie didn’t want to marry Ken and would routinely jump off the top bunk on her wedding day, usually to her death but there were occasions that her huge dress would act like a parachute and she would land safely.  Of course she would have to marry Ken then but she was NOT happy about it.  Then there were my My Little Pony toys that went on cross living room excursions, making the perilous journey through the snow that graced our fireplace mantle during the holiday season.

I think the reason for the odd things I did and played out was thanks to the fact that I lost 60-70% of my hearing as a child.  I tended to stay in my own imagination and let things run wild.

Oh!  Most of my hearing is back.  Still go off in my own world but we’re safely grounded.

Back to the point.  Kids!  Children.  Those little people usually have dreams of becoming parents and raising little ones of their own.  They have that urge.  Whether it is through pressure, their own want, hormones, what have you!  It is there.

Except for me.  I don’t remember wanting kids when I was a kid.  I wanted to be left alone.  I didn’t like the screaming, the crying, and the fact that they couldn’t speak to me.  Not to mention they had an odd smell.   There was no interest.  Sure, I went along with the rest of the girls.  I wanted three kids, a husband, and a big house.  I would have an awesome job too, or perhaps I was a work free mother.  That was the way it was supposed to be.

Then I picked out names for kids.  More like names that I really liked and wanted to hang on to.  I did always say that if I had a child their name would be this or that, but I had no drive or urge to make that happen.  I still have those names stored away.  Nowadays I think maybe it was just my writer coming out and just taking names to my memory for safe keeping.  It would also explain the reason why I go through baby name books and sites.  I have the tendency to look at the meaning before settling on a name, and those names are usually pared with characters in stories that never quite make it.

My friends have kids.  Most with one with the second just announced.  Why it seems to happen all at once, I don’t know.  So I get to watch the updates on Facebook about hormones and all that occurs with pregnancy.  I watch as most of them have had a personality shift while others seem to be little changed, or even enhanced by the fact that they are a parent.  It is an odd happening.

I have nieces.  Two from my elder sister and three from Grendal’s family (one from the brother, two from the sister).  I have watched all five grow.  The oldest just turned 13 and the youngest is 6.  I have watched the different parenting methods and how the kids react.  I see some as being better adjusted to the world and the others being too sheltered.  There are the ones that I love to see and get excited to talk to. Then there are the ones where two weeks without seeing them doesn’t seem long enough. This is the first time in my life when I can actually look at a child and think, ‘I don’t like you one bit’. It’s strange but the parent did want us to treat said child like an adult despite the age. You don’t always get the outcome you want.

Something has shifted, though, and I am not sure if I like it.

The thought of a child isn’t as annoying or upsetting. I see more that make me smile, but there are still those that make me cringe. I don’t have “baby fever”. Right now it just seems less of a problem.

Grendal, on the other hand, hasn’t wavered on his stance but he has said the thought doesn’t turn his stomach nearly as much.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s