Babies R(n't) Us

I finally got up north to see a friend who had twins in July. I was prepared to hear her gush over the joys of new motherhood. But my friend told the truth. Of course she loved them; that’s a given. But motherhood? It left her dangerously exhausted, seriously bored and all too infrequently thrilled with her decision to have children. “You know why they make those little outfits so cute?” she asked. “It’s to remind you how adorable your babies are when you think you hate them.”



 

She told me she confided these ever-so-taboo feelings with another friend whose children were now toddlers. When asked if she had ever felt that way, the mom just shrugged and said, “Oh yeah, of course.”

 

For the record, my friend's twins were beyond adorable. I loved being an aunt to my sister’s twins when they were that age; so fun to buy clothes for and even more fun when they become toddlers and young children. And it’s true, you do see the world anew as you watch them discover new flavors, new sensations, new experiences. Of course, kids eventually become adolescents, Satan’s vile, epithet-spewing spawn until the hormones settle down a little bit, maybe 17 or 18 years old. My niece and nephew are 15 years old and God knows I love them but honestly? They scare the holy crap out of me.



I shall continue to sublimate my repressed motherly urges through the adoption of very small dogs I can dress up and hug.