Why don’t you ever ask me to baby-sit? And why don’t you
want to bring your kids to dinner, or over for a cookout? Do you think I don’t
know how to look after the tyke for a few hours? Or that I don’t know how to
change a diaper, or warm a bottle. Maybe you think I don’t know how much mac
& cheese is too much mac & cheese for a four year old. Or won’t be able
to answer that ridiculous question about if a flower had feet how high do
I think it could jump, and would it talk to itself too?
I bet that’s not it, though. I bet you think I don’t want to
take on that burden. You probably think your kids would drive me crazy if I was
left alone with them for more than 20 minutes. Or if I had to listen to them
shout “NO!” 163 times every hour. Or if I finally realized how said mac &
cheese can actually stick to the ceiling... because I don’t have children.
What you don’t know is this: it is quite unlikely that I
will ever have children of my own. Yes, many women (and men) choose not to have
children these days. And being the modern-progressive I am, you probably
figured that’s the path I chose too. Sadly, it’s not.
Yes, I have cherished my free time, disposable income and
full night’s sleep. Yes, I have rolled my eyes at strangers holding screaming
children in restaurants. Yes, I have audibly scoffed when acquaintances I
barely know ask, “When are you going to start a family?”
But it’s high time I vulnerably and (apparently very
publicly) admit that these are defense mechanisms, and they are no longer
serving me.
Because I have also gushed over blurry ultra-sound images,
considered the honor of family names, swelled at the simple rhythm of a tiny,
beating heart, and wept bitterly at the silence that invariably followed. I
have submitted my abnormal anatomy to a scalpel in desperate hope, and
cynically sneered at disappointment.
And only now am I learning that no opinion, decision or
attitude makes any difference. It is only acceptance and gratitude that slowly
transform me.
I am not a mother. I cannot change that. It is not without its darkness.
But I am also buoyed by every opportunity to be one hell
of an “Aunt.”
So listen up- YOU with the sleep deprived circles under your
eyes! YOU with that fierce commitment to raising exceptional human beings! YOU
who have figured out how to stretch your dollars to cover school clothes and
ballet lessons, tiaras and army men, rent and dinner! If you (EVER) need a
break, want a nap, miss the silence, or just feel like taking a tour in my
childless world for a few hours:
BRING IT ON!
and don’t be shy.
I will take those beautiful, little monsters of yours and I
will spoil the living shit out of them. Because I can.
I will feed him ice cream.
I will twirl her.
I will chase them down in epic TAG battles through the back
yard.
I will catch all the fireflies and stick ‘em in jars.
I will finger paint, and build couch-forts, and contort my
face in any grotesque way that will make them laugh.
I will buy them peanuts at the zoo to throw at the
elephants.
I will take them on the most nauseating rides at the
carnival.
I will let them pick the song on the radio.
I will give piggy back rides, and tell stupid jokes, and I
answer every absurd question with the most creativity I can muster.
And I will return them to you safe, sound and worn out. Because
you are my friend, and your child is your world. And because there are infinite
ways to experience joy in this world, and some of the most priceless are
through the eyes of a child. But then you already know that, don’t you?
And really because I can.
And because I can, I’m the luckiest “Aunt” around.
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