Babies

If you don’t have your own children, how can you possibly know how to care for them?

I had a woman say something close to this to me when I was working at a day care a few years back (My version is nicer than her choice of words). And this is the ongoing feeling I get when I see certain women look at me or speak to me in that certain way.  As if I wouldn’t know how to teach their child something I went to school for just because I don’t have my own children. I’ve worked in nurseries, day cares, preschools, middle schools, high schools, colleges, and have been babysitting since I was 14 and there is always at least a few women who take that tone with me.

I know it’s a sticky subject to speak of, but as you get older there become two groups of women: those who have children and those who do not. And being on one side is seemingly superior to the other according to some groups of women (mostly in Westlake Village who work out at my gym).

Of course I don’t mean all women with children are this way and that all women without children feel the way I do. And I have not felt this in every place I have lived and worked as I have moved so many times in my life.

For the people who make those accusations and the people like me who are sensitive to them I feel there is one feeling binding us together: insecurity. I feel insecure because I am getting older and I want children. And should I have had them already? What have I done of substance in my life? Because isn’t creating life the most significant thing you can do?

And they feel insecure because they see me with only myself to worry about. I do what I want to most of the time. I took 12 whole years for myself while being in school. (Wow I’ve never looked at it that way before. Shouldn’t I be a doctor by now? If you’re thinking of the quote from the movie "Tommy Boy" you are my best friend and you are cool). Should they have done that as well? Should they have “found themselves” before they had kids?

These assumptions (and they are gross assumptions) are total bullshit. I am speaking bullshit. Writing bullshit.

Because you see what you look for. Our (my) reality becomes skewed because of our (my) situation.

I believe that everyone has a path (Oh lord how cliché is that?) and that we are all where we are supposed to be. I can’t have regrets, although they swirl through my head constantly, about what I have chosen to do with my life. And the women on the other side of the line shouldn’t either, the women in the “other group”. Because I have not “found myself” through grad school or spending time on myself. They have not lost years because they had children sooner than I did. Everyone has significance in the world no matter what it is they choose to do and create. (Copy write Hallmark 1997)

So why do I still feel like shit?

My best friend is pregnant and about to pop. I am so excited for this baby to enter the world. You have no freaking idea! We discussed her future baby boy’s name our first year in college in music theory class when she fell in love with the name. I can’t wait to be the crazy Aunt who tells him how weird his mom was in college. (Until he figures it out on his own. Sorry Michelle. He’s bound to find out sooner or later we’re all nut jobs.)

Anyhoo, we were leaving chorus at the elementary school where we work and we turned the corner and there were all these moms and they stopped their conversations to stare at my huge, pregnant friend smiling like drones. No one said anything they just beamed, cooed, and stared. And I’m all over here going, “Hi I’m the crazy single friend!” It really hit me that there is this huge club. A huge club of people that have been through something life altering that more than half of other people in the world, have not. Now I get what Dads feel like. There are probably cool membership cards and house rules and owls that send messages to other members. 

Am I jealous? Do I want to know the secret handshake? Hell yes. But am I ashamed I’m not a member and no one has taught me the theme song yet? No. Absolutely not.

It is quite remarkable the things that people say to you when you visit your hometown. People from church and high school friends you run into at Costco. It can happen anywhere. When you’re out and someone asks about your life and you say, “Well I’m graduating with my MFA in acting in the spring” and their response is “That’s great! Is there someone special? Are you married? Planning on a family?” “No, and not yet.”. Then you get THE LOOK. The head tilts slightly the left, the eyebrows come together, the eyes soften, and the lips purse together. “Don’t worry. It will happen for you.” Pat, pat on the arm.

At the time I was 28 and my inner retort was, “Who the hell said I was worried?”

Yes, this did actually happen to me. And not some old woman at church with a 1950’s frame of mind, but someone I went to high school with. In the late 90’s. 

Now I’m 30 and the worry is creeping in. But I have to stop it because this is 2013 and Mariah Carey had TWO babies at like….60. So I’ve got time.

I know that people just want you to be settled and happy. And I want those things too. But I’m not sad for me so you don’t need to be either. And yes sometimes I get angry. Because my life has been worthwhile and I have done things that I am proud of. I birthed an MFA. And if you were at CSU Fullerton you know what I mean. “Let it be born”.

I’m happy to say that all of my actual friends that have babies have never treated me like this. I’m especially thankful to my friend Keiko for letting me be a part of her son Julian’s life. She had Julian a couple weeks into our first year of grad school (talk about a freakin’ warrior) and she always made me feel welcome in his life. And she NEVER made me feel like an idiot or an inadequate human.   It is because of these friends that I did not want to write this. Because what you do as a mother is life altering and beautiful. Because you, yes YOU, have all been so wonderful in sharing your life and families with me. Even when I’m all cynical Liz Lemon over here.

                                      Baby Julian back when he was a baby. Isn't he the cutest?

                   

And here’s another thing: don’t we need more women who make their children a priority? And I don’t mean giving up their jobs. My mom raised me while working and getting and masters in education and look how awesome I turned out. (Note to self: find other example before publishing) But what I mean is that our children are getting left behind more and more. Let’s not even go there with education. So many kids are not loved enough or paid the attention they need and deserve. But to these women who schedule their lives around their children, plan and prepare for their arrival with such care and anticipation, and most importantly give them all their love I say, “You are kick ass ladies and we need more of you”.

So why even write this blog? So many women feel this way and they already covered every single minute detail of the subject in many, many episodes of Sex and the City featuring Kim Catrall and Cynthia Nixon. Because it’s something that hurts me, makes me angry, scares me, and makes me excited. 

I didn’t really want to write this blog because I know it could evoke anger, deep conversation which will happen on FB and that’s never a good idea, or I could hurt the feelings of someone I care about. Which is not my intent while sharing my thoughts and insecurities. But again if I’m afraid to write it I think that means I should. Although maybe I should invest in a journal to write in that I can burn later while doing a ritual, tribal dance.

Because let’s be real. When I have a baby, if I’m lucky enough, I’m going to change teams and be that bitch who says things like “You have no idea what it’s like because you’ve never had kids!” and “Talk to me after you’ve been up all night with 3 am feedings!” and “Burn the old maid at the stake!” So be looking for that blog coming to a theatre near you.