Today is the first day of the National Blog Posting Month!
All day, I struggled to remind myself to write an entry. Because, seriously, how suck-tastic would it be to start off the month with NO. NEW. POST. when I signed up to write thirty-one? Finally, with about 15 minutes to spare before my jaunt to grab Dave from the airport, I find inspiration.
I am a mommy-blog reader. Particularly, I read Dooce. Everyone reads Dooce, and if you do not, and you do not know “Chuck” or the hate for clogs, you are really missing out on poignant story telling. Someday, when bloggers turn novelists on their heads, this will be a woman they use as an example of prose and poetry. For realz.
However, I often find myself struggling to identify with anyone who has children. Yes, about 90% of that has to do with the fact that I do not have children of my own because I have chosen, at twenty five, to not sabotage my boyfriend’s future in the life and my future with my boyfriend. That other 10% is the absence of actually wanting a child. And the absence of that want is something I sometimes struggle with in my head.
You see, every time I think of children, I think of time. Time, to me, equals money, because forty-hours of my week is spent earning that money. Money is then spent on the college education that raped me of my future wealth because education is so damn expensive today. Which – are you following this path? – leads me to wonder how the hell anyone can afford children today – let alone the future – because of the rising cost of absolutely everything. Even air feels more expensive to breathe. I keep trying to locate the quarter slot in trees because soon someone will be charging me for that, too.
I am sure this is something everyone in their twenties experiences. I am sure there is both a sense of rapture in wanting children and a beguiling sense of apprehension every single time one of the little humans waddles near. I know I have felt both. Everyone says that is normal. But when Dave’s mom told me that some day, when I have children, I will feel their losses, too, I thought to myself “no thanks, not right now” And maybe that is just me being a selfish twenty-something right now, but I sure hope that feeling changes. Because I am never sure of anything, but I sure hope that this feeling ebbs away.
EDIT: I do want children one day, but right now, I cannot see them in the now. Which, I think, is reasonable considering I would go broke having one. And I hate the welfare system in America.