Charleston and Children
We went to Charleston, SC this weekend to visit Hubby’s best friend—R who was a groomsman in our wedding. R has been married three years to P; they have a two-year-old little girl and baby number two is close to arriving. I felt really old while I was there. Hubby – 28; R – 28; P – 25; Me – 30. K, the daughter, is really adorable. I wish I had just an eighth of her energy. I had a wonderful time visiting them. It was great to see Hubby so relaxed and happy. He and R were in rare form. They have been friends for like 15 years and have a thousand stories of all their stupid antics and pranks. As I sat there listening to them I realized something. I think I missed out on a lot of “being a teenager.”
I never skipped school or went toilet papering or to parties. I was too scared to sneak out of the house or let someone in. I never did a lot of stupid stuff that teenagers do. I was always the “responsible” one. I was that one whose friend’s parent’s said…. “Well if she is doing it then it must be OK for you to do too.” I was hell-bent on growing up and getting out—being “mature” on my own. I didn’t seem to have a lot in common with my peers and got along better with their parents. I always hung-out with the older kids and had very few friends my own age. I was also scared to death of what my parents would do to me if I screwed up. Early on, it was made very clear to me what the rules were and that there would be dire consequences if I chose to disobey them.
So, impending birthday anxiety is coming on fast—in less than two months I will turn 31. I DON'T WANT TO TURN 31. I want to be that silly teenage girl I didn’t get to be. Being 31 means I am firmly planted in my 30s and I have to leave all silliness behind. Right?
I am already stressing about B-day for several reasons one being children. See, I want kids, (yes, hubby, I know you think I don’t but I really do) but I don’t want them right now. I have been married one year and I want my life to settle down just a wee bit before embarking on the journey of a thousand diapers, runny noses, Teletubbies, and worst of all—Barney. I just don’t have the baby bug as of yet. The problem is this: hubby does have it; he wants to start a family now. I want to wait a couple of years. I am just not ready for children.
I think part of the reason I don’t want them right now is that I am finally getting to know a little bit more about me and I actually like who I am, for the most part. I have more fun now than I ever did when I was a teenager or mostly even in college for that matter. I laugh a lot more now and am less concerned with the opinions of others. I am scared to death that having children will change that. Children are completely innocent beings and need a protector—someone to shield them from all the bad things in the world. I don’t want to turn into my mother just yet. I love her but I don’t want to be her.
Maybe it’s just an issue of freedom. We are free to go to the 11 o’clock movie or a concert or play on a whim. I am free to meet my friends or co-workers for a drink after work or call and have a “girls night out” without having to plan far in advance for it. I know there will come a time when my desire to have children outweighs my desire for freedom as of now, however, it doesn’t. Does that make me a bad person?
We went to Charleston, SC this weekend to visit Hubby’s best friend—R who was a groomsman in our wedding. R has been married three years to P; they have a two-year-old little girl and baby number two is close to arriving. I felt really old while I was there. Hubby – 28; R – 28; P – 25; Me – 30. K, the daughter, is really adorable. I wish I had just an eighth of her energy. I had a wonderful time visiting them. It was great to see Hubby so relaxed and happy. He and R were in rare form. They have been friends for like 15 years and have a thousand stories of all their stupid antics and pranks. As I sat there listening to them I realized something. I think I missed out on a lot of “being a teenager.”
I never skipped school or went toilet papering or to parties. I was too scared to sneak out of the house or let someone in. I never did a lot of stupid stuff that teenagers do. I was always the “responsible” one. I was that one whose friend’s parent’s said…. “Well if she is doing it then it must be OK for you to do too.” I was hell-bent on growing up and getting out—being “mature” on my own. I didn’t seem to have a lot in common with my peers and got along better with their parents. I always hung-out with the older kids and had very few friends my own age. I was also scared to death of what my parents would do to me if I screwed up. Early on, it was made very clear to me what the rules were and that there would be dire consequences if I chose to disobey them.
So, impending birthday anxiety is coming on fast—in less than two months I will turn 31. I DON'T WANT TO TURN 31. I want to be that silly teenage girl I didn’t get to be. Being 31 means I am firmly planted in my 30s and I have to leave all silliness behind. Right?
I am already stressing about B-day for several reasons one being children. See, I want kids, (yes, hubby, I know you think I don’t but I really do) but I don’t want them right now. I have been married one year and I want my life to settle down just a wee bit before embarking on the journey of a thousand diapers, runny noses, Teletubbies, and worst of all—Barney. I just don’t have the baby bug as of yet. The problem is this: hubby does have it; he wants to start a family now. I want to wait a couple of years. I am just not ready for children.
I think part of the reason I don’t want them right now is that I am finally getting to know a little bit more about me and I actually like who I am, for the most part. I have more fun now than I ever did when I was a teenager or mostly even in college for that matter. I laugh a lot more now and am less concerned with the opinions of others. I am scared to death that having children will change that. Children are completely innocent beings and need a protector—someone to shield them from all the bad things in the world. I don’t want to turn into my mother just yet. I love her but I don’t want to be her.
Maybe it’s just an issue of freedom. We are free to go to the 11 o’clock movie or a concert or play on a whim. I am free to meet my friends or co-workers for a drink after work or call and have a “girls night out” without having to plan far in advance for it. I know there will come a time when my desire to have children outweighs my desire for freedom as of now, however, it doesn’t. Does that make me a bad person?
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