tick-tock
i hate kids.
it's a rule i've been sticking to for the past several years or so - a reaction by my non-conformist supposedly-feminist self - a rule that i followed because i refused to be likened to the population of stereotypical girly-girls who fawn over babies. i say supposed-feminist because isn't feminism about the freedom of a woman's ability to choose, i.e. if i want to fawn over babies then i most certainly can, and if i want to have 15 kids fathered by ten different guys and raise them on welfare in my one-bedroom flat with communal kitchen and wash facilities then it's my choice, aighity!!
that last word, by the way, was ay-aigh-tee.
and that last sentence, by the way, was a digression.
back to my point (and i do have one) - i hate kids.
well, let's say i used to hate kids.
or even, i never hated kids at all; i just pretended to.
or maybe, i've changed my mind about hating kids.
or maybe, some kids, i like.
not in a Michael Jackson way, mind you.
ever since Lauren had her baby, she's been bringing Faith to cell every week. Faith is three months old now (i think...) and it's been really exciting seeing her every week, because, i don't know if you've realised, but babies change a whole lot! (some babyologists call this growth and development) i've seen her evolve from a tiny little wrinkled pink rat, to one of the cutest creatures ever. plus, she makes this huffy, coughy sound when she breathes - which makes her sound not unlike my 96-year-old great-grandmother, but way cuter.
and i've also recently come to know a little two-something-year-old named Eden, who is the most pleasant toddler i've ever come across. either that, or all the other kids i've known must have been spawns of satan.
plus, i find myself checking some blogs frequently for cuteness such as this, and also this, which bring about a substantial amount of ooh-ing and aww-ing.
so. has my recent one-step advancement towards being a quarter-of-a-century-old also caused me to become aware of another biological countdown?
i think, though, that it's more likely that this recent affinity circles around the fact that i admire from a safe, non-owner distance.
i see Faith for two hours once a week, and the one time that i heard her scream (yes, scream) it made me leap out of my seat. i am not kidding you. it sounded like the wrath of hell had come upon us.
i've read and grimaced at Jack's teething stage, which caused his mother to force herself to get by her day with only five hours of sleep.
i've read about and actually, can hardly believe, the ferocity of Leta's tantrums. but if they are as bad as they sound, i'm glad that i'm at a safe reading distance.
Eden is still, in my mind, the world's most likeable toddler, but then again, she's probably the angelic exception to the rule.
i think my granduncle said it best - "The best thing about being a grandfather is that at the end of the day, you can give them back." he's very happy playing Silver to Daniel's Lone Ranger, but when Daniel or baby brother James kick up a fuss, it's back to mum and dad they go.
so.
what's my point?
it appears i don't have one after all.
it's a rule i've been sticking to for the past several years or so - a reaction by my non-conformist supposedly-feminist self - a rule that i followed because i refused to be likened to the population of stereotypical girly-girls who fawn over babies. i say supposed-feminist because isn't feminism about the freedom of a woman's ability to choose, i.e. if i want to fawn over babies then i most certainly can, and if i want to have 15 kids fathered by ten different guys and raise them on welfare in my one-bedroom flat with communal kitchen and wash facilities then it's my choice, aighity!!
that last word, by the way, was ay-aigh-tee.
and that last sentence, by the way, was a digression.
back to my point (and i do have one) - i hate kids.
well, let's say i used to hate kids.
or even, i never hated kids at all; i just pretended to.
or maybe, i've changed my mind about hating kids.
or maybe, some kids, i like.
not in a Michael Jackson way, mind you.
ever since Lauren had her baby, she's been bringing Faith to cell every week. Faith is three months old now (i think...) and it's been really exciting seeing her every week, because, i don't know if you've realised, but babies change a whole lot! (some babyologists call this growth and development) i've seen her evolve from a tiny little wrinkled pink rat, to one of the cutest creatures ever. plus, she makes this huffy, coughy sound when she breathes - which makes her sound not unlike my 96-year-old great-grandmother, but way cuter.
and i've also recently come to know a little two-something-year-old named Eden, who is the most pleasant toddler i've ever come across. either that, or all the other kids i've known must have been spawns of satan.
plus, i find myself checking some blogs frequently for cuteness such as this, and also this, which bring about a substantial amount of ooh-ing and aww-ing.
so. has my recent one-step advancement towards being a quarter-of-a-century-old also caused me to become aware of another biological countdown?
i think, though, that it's more likely that this recent affinity circles around the fact that i admire from a safe, non-owner distance.
i see Faith for two hours once a week, and the one time that i heard her scream (yes, scream) it made me leap out of my seat. i am not kidding you. it sounded like the wrath of hell had come upon us.
i've read and grimaced at Jack's teething stage, which caused his mother to force herself to get by her day with only five hours of sleep.
i've read about and actually, can hardly believe, the ferocity of Leta's tantrums. but if they are as bad as they sound, i'm glad that i'm at a safe reading distance.
Eden is still, in my mind, the world's most likeable toddler, but then again, she's probably the angelic exception to the rule.
i think my granduncle said it best - "The best thing about being a grandfather is that at the end of the day, you can give them back." he's very happy playing Silver to Daniel's Lone Ranger, but when Daniel or baby brother James kick up a fuss, it's back to mum and dad they go.
so.
what's my point?
it appears i don't have one after all.
posted by nu. at 10:20 pm
3 Comments:
My biological clock started ticking very loudly once I turned thirty. I couldn't even sleep, the noise was so invasive. Only then did I know I was ready.
I didn't always think I'd have kids, but now that I've got Jack and another on the way, I can't imagine my life being anything other than what it is right now. I'm Mama. It was just meant to be that way.
My advice, as if you really care, is to follow what your mind and heart tell you. You may want kids someday, or not. Either way, I'm sure your life will be just fine.
By the way, thanks for the link in your post. He is cute and I'm not the only one who thinks it. Peace.
I'm glad I'm not the only one who has hit the quarter life crisis. And because I've been reading mommy blogs as well, I want a baby even though I don't like kids and up until about two weeks ago, I didn't want any children. I love that I babysit and can give them back at the end of the day. Then again, it's only quarter life, so you need not rush into these decisions today. Maybe I should listen to my own advice.
It is freaky innit? When it starts ticking.. gets u messed up in there... I kinda accepted the fact that the conversion frm a "kids hating person" to a kids loving creature is due to purely the fact that I'm turning into a woman? SHessh.. that sounds even worst!
What i'm trying to say, is that it is normal... to have this. :)
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