Today I was contemplating how crazy (I’d say ridiculously stupid, but that’s a tad harsh, even if true) my preconceived notions of parenthood were before I had Levi. First, when I was in my preteens, I decided that I wanted ten boys (as in kids, not boyfriends. Grow up). I figured boys should be easier than girls, and I wanted a lot of kids… so ten seemed like a good number. This eventually changed when I got a bit older and determined I couldn’t afford to send ten kids to school/college (and that was my ONLY reason then… how delightfully naïve was I??), and I determined I’d probably ONLY have four or five, a nice ‘small’ number.
What prompted me to want these kids in the first place? Well, there were the times I’d go to the beach and see adorable little toddlers in their sweet little bathing suits and hats, gleefully eating sand. Wouldn’t going to the beach be so much more fun with a baby? Along the same lines, I figured having a baby to go along with me to the fair, the zoo…you name it…If it was a public outing (aside from Six Flags), I thought having a baby to bring would make it So much more fun. I was also not a fan of shopping alone, and I wouldn’t have to call friends to go shopping with me if I had a constant companion, right?
Oh. Oh my gosh. First and foremost, when I get a day where I get to go shopping alone now, it is like… …how do I even begin to describe the gloriousness of such a moment? How can I explain the ecstasy; the indescribable joy and feeling of utter freedom as I climb into my car and crank the music to a level unsafe for Toddler ears? (Although I’ve learned shame since my teenage years, and lower the music level when waiting at red lights or when driving through housing communities. I’m not a monster.) Then at the store! Alone! I can stand and look at whatever I want for as long as I want! No sprinting from aisle to aisle… did I mention I can just randomly peruse aisles that don’t necessarily have anything that I might need? It doesn’t matter! And guess where my purse is? Sitting nicely in the spot where otherwise my toddler would reside, that spot where he likes to battle and scream and sob desperately after being manhandled (please, no one watching call CPS!) into getting his feet into the foot holes (torture devices in Levi’s mind, I assure you). How many times do we go through this, Levi?? This isn’t new! One foot HERE, and one foot HERE, it’s really very simple! You should be HAPPY you’re getting pushed around in the store! I would love a free ride while I’m grocery shopping! (However, I have too much shame to claim one of the motorized carts, which are apparently reserved for fat people (who were perfectly capable of walking INTO the store, I’d like to point out here, and have more reason than anyone to actively walk while shopping), or the lesser minority of injured or old people.)
But I’m getting WAY off topic here, aren’t I? Those motorized carts and the ppl who abuse them are a hot topic for me. (Another time, Alicia! Another time… let it go…)
What was I talking about? Oh yes, the fantasy world I lived in before Levi, and where I live NOW, in the harsh reality.
The harsh reality that has opened my eyes to the fact that bringing kids to anything outside of the house requires intense preparation and, even if executed perfectly, does not ensure the child will be happy and won’t scream their adorable little head off the entire time. Kids at the beach? HAHAHAHA that will be the DAY, let me tell you! I’m sure there are some super moms who attempt this, and do quite well at it, and have the patience for it. I’m NOT one of them. (I also hate sand, and imagining cleaning sand out of …well you know where… I’ll just say EVERYWHERE… on my child just makes me shudder.) When I go to the fair, it will be a treat if I get to leave Levi at home… (at least until he’s old enough to appreciate the fair, allow me to amend. Then it will hopefully be more enjoyable for everyone.) While gazing wistfully at those cute little kids in my teen years, I never took into consideration how hard it was to actually get those kids to those public outings. It’s so funny how having kids totally changes a person’s perspective!
Speaking of funny, I now laugh at the thought of having four kids (let alone ten. TEN! Can you imagine??). This laughter isn’t far from painful heart palpitations and panic, let me assure you. I am having a hard enough time figuring out if there’ll be a child #2. I can’t seem to get past that old desire of mine to have several kids. I think only children are lonelier, and would benefit in several different areas from having a sibling. However, one child is hard. That first year was so hard I still get overcome with emotion when I think about it. How do people with two kids deal with that first year, I wonder?? It boggles my mind just thinking about dealing with the exhaustion, and the inability to take a nap when the baby naps, because guess what? This isn’t your only child, and the other one will destroy the house while you try to pitifully attempt a 15 minute nap. I want to ask mothers of two if it is REALLY worth it, but of course by the time they have their second child, they think that child is worth it and can’t imagine life without them, so they won’t be looking at the issue from the same standpoint as I am now.
Ironically, after writing that, I realize that I am doing exactly what I did before… making assumptions when I don’t know what it’s like. I’m a tad bit more knowledgeable when it comes to having one, I’d like to claim… but I shouldn’t just blithely assume I know anything about what having two would be like, either.
Hmmmmmm…something to think about, I guess. I’m going to have to cut this short (haha SHORT, yeah right! I can write a short message/blog like I can hold my tongue when I see fat ppl on motorized carts at Walmart…) (which is to say I can’t, in case you weren’t following along closely enough), because I hear my child waking up from his nap. Until Levi’s next nap that coincides with my chores being done (or avoided, let’s be realistic), I bid you adieu!
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