To Do (it), Or Not To Do

Some friends you see regularly, talk to daily and know every minute detail of their lives. And then there are friends, that you rarely talk to, barely see and likely don't have a clue what colour their hair is this month. But, despite all this, you love each other and you know, if needed, you'd be there for each other at the drop of a hat. I am lucky enough to have a friend just like this. And she is fabulous enough to have written the following post for all of you... enjoy.

When I first started my job, we had to attend training sessions in Montreal. This was my first big girl job and I tend to be quiet and shy around people I don't know - I try to feel them out to see if my sense of humor will be understood, otherwise I will keep my thoughts to myself. I was lucky enough to meet a very beautiful, intelligent, and motivated young girl that was just as sarcastic as I was - my first words to her were "do you speak English?" and her response: "Oh God Yes, Finally!" WIN.

Needless to say, three years later we are still friends. Even living across the country, we kept in touch: we both got married around the same time, both felt the same way about our jobs, and both wanted to take the plunge and go blonde. Even though she is no longer working for the same company, we still stalk each others facebook profiles on a regular basis. The only difference? My page is still littered with funny pictures, makeup status updates, and politically incorrect videos. Her page is decorated with pictures of her beautiful, adorable, pinch-her-cheeks cute baby girl. Suddenly, I feel ashamed of my videos and my status updates proclaiming my love for NARS Gipsy lipstick [cool toned gals looking to try out a red lip?... this shade is money]. Why I feel this way I'm not sure. Minus the bigger boobs, this girl is still the same beautiful, intelligent, and very funny girl I met three years ago. I read her blog daily, not just because I love her, but because I am still in limbo with myself over the decision of whether or not I want kids someday. Half the time I read her blog and decide yes, absolutely. The other half, I have to log off due to impeding panic attacks. FAIL

Do I want kids? Can I raise a child?

There is no rush for me obviously, but I feel that I'm at the age where I should at least know the answer to this question. The only thing I know, besides the fact that babysitting terrifies me, is that I am 100% undecided. I love babies. I love to hold them, play with them, and dress them in cute fuzzy sleepers. I like to watch them sleep, watch them bite their fingers, and watch the bond with their mother develop. When I see a baby crying for mom, I want that. I think I could do a fantastic job with a baby [I know, easier said that done, I've read the blogs remember?], I also think that I am responsible and mature enough to have a baby. A baby seems exciting to me, and every time I am around a baby, I want one. Where the decision takes a turn is after baby.

Babies turn in to children.
Children become teenagers.
Teenagers become... me.

This may seem crazy, but I continually have to remind myself that babies last forever. They don't go away, and I can't swap them for the MAC Hue lipstick I am currently coveting. Knowing that eventually this baby will be one of the high school kids with a facebook page full of high school drama is very hard for me to get over. I do not want a teenager. That may be harsh, but it's the truth.

Like I mentioned earlier, I read Mommy Brain every day and frankly, it seems like a lot of fun. Even though there are panic moments [first night in the crib, loved it] and general frustrations with feeding and sleeping, all of those seem to fade away as soon as the baby smiles. I laugh at the mommy brain Mondays and I get nervous when I hear about crib recalls, but underneath all those emotions, I can't shake the thought that this would never be me. I simply can't picture myself as a mom. Is it that high school kids annoy me, or is it because I am missing the mom gene?

To all you moms - could you picture yourself with a child (not baby) before you got pregnant?

I have been wanting to write about this for a while, but I was hesitant because I don't want to offend anyone. The last thing I want is to have someone calling Child Services when they find out I am pregnant some day. I know that I am not ready for a baby. I know that I do not want a baby today, tomorrow, or this year. But I also know that when I am older, I want to have what my parents and I have. I want to have the relationship that my mother and I have [ps, we bought more tea today, thanks Steve]. I want to have family vacations and holidays spent playing euchre, chase the ace, and rumoli - losing big money and laughing so hard we cry. I want to be able to drink with my kids [Child Services] and learn from them. I also hope my daughter dresses me, makes sure I never buy mom jeans, and picks out a nice nursing home for me when its time. So I guess I do want kids someday. Or to have a baby, give it away when it's time for school, and have it come back with a career and a bottle of McManis. Wait, is that what boarding school is?

Again, I stress that I know I am not ready for a baby. The only thing I know, is that I was lucky that my parents were ready. I am lucky that I had parents who gave me the childhood that I had [minus the haircuts, shame on you], and I am so lucky that my parents taught me to be respectful, kind, and humble. I still think that I would be great with a baby, but my skills would stop there. I don't know if I will ever be ready to influence a life and shape a child into a responsible adult, so to all you moms out there, congratulations, you are amazing. And to the creator of this wonderful site, you are amazing, intelligent, pretty and funny, and I miss you very much.

When I read this post, I completely understood every concern, fear, desire... everything. Up until the moment Jane was in my arms, I wasn't sure I could do this... being a Mom. During my entire pregnancy, I avoided children. I didn't want to hold them, anything, because I was so scared. I felt so much pressure to be "good with kids", because I was pregnant, that I avoided every situation that may put me on the spot. So, my dearest chicky, Laura, you are not alone. I know that there will be times where I think "what the hell did I get myself into?" but, thinking back on my own teenage years, I know there were some really good times in there too. So, I picture those moments and not the moments where I find out she's got 400 bikini pictures up on facebook or the day she finally talks back to me or says the inevitable "I hate you Mom, you don't understand!" in the middle of some fight about boys or school or clothes... instead I picture helping her get ready for her first date and having her cry in my arms when she has her heart broken for the first time. I know whatever you choose, you will be the best at it...

Thank you for writing this post. Your straight-forwardness is one of the many reasons we get along so fabulously. I love you lots and lots and look forward to our next rendezvous. xoxo.

FYI... Laura just started a unique and fabulous blog called "All My Laundry..." where she talks about everything from the best makeup to her recent experience with cheating. Check her out. She's an amazing writer and one of the funniest chicks I know.