Monday, May 23, 2011

Not a Kid Person

I'm not really a kid person.

I didn't pursue my teaching license along with either of my degrees in English.  (I did teach sixth grade in 2005-2006, and it was the second most painful experience of my life: much worse, for me, than divorce.  I'll blog about it, some day.)  I've never taught children's Sunday school.  Aside from making some snacks, I've never helped with Vacation Bible School.  I drop my kids off in the church nursery every week and run for my life head, happily, to the choir room.  I never add my name to the nursery rotation. one of my Bible studies?  Each mom was required to sign up to bring breakfast one Monday and stay in the nursery another.  But I found someone to switch her breakfast for my nursery. 

Don't get me wrong: I love the children in my life.  The ones to whom I've given birth are ridiculously spoiled.  The baby will be nine months old in a week, and she sleeps with me.  (Shhh: nothing you say is going to change a thing, so preserve your energy.)  I love my nephews and nieces, my friends' children, and I think of Stacey Michelle and Kimmie Christine (both of whom are grown, now), and I promise you: I have the kid-loving gene.

But--even though I'm an extreme extrovert--kids make me feel out of sorts.  To be more specific, I feel uncomfortable dealing with the behavioral issues of children.  I think myself pretty responsible in addressing my children's bad behavior, but I very often feel inadequate and ill-equipped.  And I feel even moreso when it comes to other people's children. 

Anyway, I said all that to turn around and say: I'm starting to feel like someone's missing from our family.  You can't imagine the hilarity with which I write that.  I have an eleven-year-old with newfound attitude, a two-year-old who's been eaten up with attitude since she was in the womb, and a not-quite-nine-month-old baby whom I've spoiled beyond belief.  I have fleas in my carpet, I'm giving away my cat because I can't deal, everything's a disorganized mess, and I really think I want one more baby.

I'm laughing as I type this.  Am I just hearing the ticking of my biological clock?  Have I been possessed by the Octomom?  Aye ya ya.  I think I'll sign off, now, and go to bed.  With the baby.

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