I saw an old friend from college today for lunch...with her three kids, and 4-child stroller, and large SUV to fit the 3 kids and 4-child stroller, and dipper bag, and bottles. Ever conversation we started was quickly interrupted by attending to kids throwing forks, how cute it was that they said thank-you, and snacks ever 20 minutes to delay onset screaming. But they were cute as a button.
I found myself in a "Sex and the City" moment where I, being stylish in my heels, dress, cute scarf and bag, met said friend in jeans and a sweatshirt with "binkies" coming out of every pocket. And these aliens that took captive my once giddy, friendly friend turned her into this attentive person that spoke not much more than a few sentences of adult conversation I could understand.
However, she seemed to know herself very intimately and for what she stood for very fervently. I became surprisingly intrigued and envious of this. I imagine myself standing over a tomatoey stew at the stove while the kids are playing in the kitchen nearby, husband home from work and an evening together with the family, taking baths, laughing, and feeling accomplished at the end of another exhausting day.
But sometimes I feel as if I'm trying to make myself feel something that I don't. I'm trying to convince myself that I'm maternal when in fact, I am very scared of having kids. Yet, when I got to hold the happiest, cute, little 5 month old baby girl, and she looked me in the eyes and then buried her soft almost hairless baby head into my chest, something inside me thought, "ok, maybe I could do this after all."
I found myself in a "Sex and the City" moment where I, being stylish in my heels, dress, cute scarf and bag, met said friend in jeans and a sweatshirt with "binkies" coming out of every pocket. And these aliens that took captive my once giddy, friendly friend turned her into this attentive person that spoke not much more than a few sentences of adult conversation I could understand.
However, she seemed to know herself very intimately and for what she stood for very fervently. I became surprisingly intrigued and envious of this. I imagine myself standing over a tomatoey stew at the stove while the kids are playing in the kitchen nearby, husband home from work and an evening together with the family, taking baths, laughing, and feeling accomplished at the end of another exhausting day.
But sometimes I feel as if I'm trying to make myself feel something that I don't. I'm trying to convince myself that I'm maternal when in fact, I am very scared of having kids. Yet, when I got to hold the happiest, cute, little 5 month old baby girl, and she looked me in the eyes and then buried her soft almost hairless baby head into my chest, something inside me thought, "ok, maybe I could do this after all."
