Never thought I’d like being a mom this much.
Growing up as the oldest of 11, I got burnt out on kids, more or less. Mom had chronic depression so I often had to watch over my siblings while she struggled just to function. Needless to say, I also got burnt out on babysitting. I hate babysitting. Hate kids. Hate the whole snotty, disease infested lot of them. Then when I got pregnant all I could think about was how sick all the time I was. Gawl, it was awful. I was so not glowing, nor was I a cute preggy. And what if I don’t like being a mom? It’s not like I can return the thing.
But oh my freaking gosh, I love my Kai.
And now if I see a kid that’s Kai’s age or younger, some freak phenomenon happens where my original spirit gets sucked out and some cooing, baby hungry woman I swear I’ve never met in my life gets put in instead. Where a rather docile person was before, a dragon is in its place, especially when I hear about children being misused in any way. I’m serious, I’m ready to go out there with my husbands club and beat the bloody snot out of them (or castrate them, whichever is more appropriate for the crime committed). It’s so bad, I can’t even see pictures of children being neglected or abused or just plain having stupid parents without cringing and crying.
I even do all that creepy obsessed mom stuff! Watch Kai while he sleeps, take millions of pictures of him and nothing else, squeal back at him like I’m some sort of mentally impaired person—and when he toddles besides me in all his 16 month glory, his tiny hand in mine, across the parking lot to the grocery store, I just about die.
Other than that, I guess I haven’t changed too much. Still hate kids (especially when I want to go swimming and the pool is just infested with those nasty little boogers who are probably peeing in the same water as we speak), still hate babysitting (unless they’re playmates of Kai’s, than twice the coo-age), and I still play Poke’mon on a semi-regular basis…
Did I just say that out loud?
Author T.S. Lowe 