A few years ago, while walking through Soho, I stumbled across a boutique baby store. I don’t recall the name, but the décor included whimsical trees, googly-eyed giraffes and elephants, and against my friend’s pleas, I demanded we go inside. Like the true kid-at-heart I am, I browsed through the clothes, considered buying a super-soft stuffed animal for myself, and sighed thinking, “I really do want a baby one day.”
Before leaving, I spotted a pair of ridiculously adorable pink socks with a tiny, sophisticated bow at the top. At $16 a pop, I actually bought one and vowed that one day, when I became a mother, I’d put them over my baby’s little toes. Let’s hope I do have a daughter when that time comes or my son will just have to be alright with pretty-in-pink feet.
These socks are tucked away in a space underneath my bed, along with clippings of dream vacation homes overseas, maps of places I’d like to visit, and ticket stubs from old dates, travels, and pieces of fabric I’d love to make a trendy dress out of (If I knew how to sew, that is). Those socks are the only thing, out of the dozens of wishes and dreams inside of that wooden antique box that represents children.
As much as I do hope that I have some baby Tigar cubs of my own, the idea of actually raising a child royally, totally, and whole-heartedly freaks me the hell out. I’m one of those women who texts her friends: “Okay, so he didn’t technically finish inside of me. We used something, I’m on something. But my monthly visitor is about three hours late, should I get a test? I mean it can’t hurt, right? RIGHT?!” I’ve also probably opted for plan B even when plan A probably worked efficiently. I even may have Googled if there was such a thing as Plan C. (There’s not, if you’re wondering)
But why should I not be careful? Pregnancy and babies are terrifying.
I mean, my lady part has to stretch to a size that’s not natural (no matter how part of nature it is), I have to give up the things that give me tremendous joy (coffee, wine, looking sexy in lingerie, running, to name a few), and after nine months of increasingly getting rounder, I have a miniature creature who will suck on my gals. And that’s only the beginning – once I’m a mother, there is no going back or 30-day refund policy. As far as I know, anyways.
Last week on my way to my bi-monthly mentoring program for children who want to be authors, I caught an elevator with a few parents. Though it isn’t the usual etiquette, one of the fathers asked when I pushed the button for the sixth floor, “Are you going to pick up your child in the program?”
With a fear-stricken death stare I looked directly at him and defended myself: “Oh God no! I’m volunteering. I don’t have children. I’m too young for that!” Obviously not realizing the chord he struck with me, he mumbled an apology and turned to face the doors. As I pulled myself together walking to meet my mentee, it occurred to me I was actually wrong.
I’m not too young to be a mom. Technically speaking.
I’m the only one of my cousins who doesn’t have at least one child – and they are all under the age of 35. I have friends who are damned-and-determined to have their legacy completed and their tubes tied before they blow out the candles on their 30th birthday cake. And ladies much younger than me, say 16, are apparently buzzworthy in the eyes of pop culture for doing nothing other than growing a bump.
As cute as they are and as much as I’m sure I’ll love my own one day, I’m lacking the baby-obsessed gene. Or maybe, it hasn’t fully developed quite yet.
Being a parent, much like being a girlfriend or a wife, means you have to stop making decisions based solely on yourself. While we can provide examples illustrating how men are really just grown-up babies who still want to be pampered, mothered, and coddled – a child is even more responsibility. Not to mention a commitment you can’t divorce, annul or walk away from.
When this man, unknowingly mistaken me as a mom, it caught me off guard (and sweat a little) because the possibility of being a parent had never occurred to me. Sure, I’ve had some scares and from the book my mother gave me, I know I’m capable of producing offspring. But, for someone to see me and for it not to be out-of-the-question for me to have a elementary school-aged child, blew my mind. What would my life look like if that were the case?
A baby requires more than your love, your attention, your dedication to maintaining and creating a relationship – it needs to be provided for and protected. How can I expect to be mature enough, secure enough, and uncomplicated enough to keep something else alive, when most of the time, I’m not sure I take care of myself in the best ways?
I may be far from being a child and far from 40, but this baby don’t want no baby.
P.S. Confessions of a Love Addict is making Valentine’s Day more about the single ladies and less about flowers that’ll die in a day. Submit your Valentine here.
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The vagina is like a heart…it can expand to let thing in and contract to let things out– giving birth is as natural as taking a number 2 lol
I will agree all my life i never wanted children– but now I cant wait!! ( well I can wait and I will wait; but I’m all for populating the already over crowded world with little moptops ;-)
I know a lot of people who didn’t ‘want’ a baby but ended up pregnant and did have one-and if it’s any consolation they make wonderful mothers. When your time comes-be it planned or unexpected you will be fine!
Incognito x
My feelings…I dont think I’ll ever want kiddies – but never say never. I just feel, like you, that I am way too selfish and self-involved in my career and life right now – how can I rear a child like that. Children must be had not because YOU want a child, but because you want to give life to that child. It must come from love, not your own desires and needs… So, I’m with you no this one. Baby dont want no baby!
I think your feelings are perfectly normal. Some people really want kids, some don’t. Some never want them and some change their minds as they get older and meet someone they can see themselves building a family with. I was always one of those people who said “never babies EVER” but I do find ever since things got serious with my current guy, I can see myself having them. It’s funny how just meeting someone you have that comfort level with and that you see a long-term future with, it kinda changes your perspective on what you want to do. That being said there is NO way I want kids anytime soon. Even having them by 30 scares me, that’s only a few years away! I’m just not going to put a timeline on it, if it’s something I feel is right then I’ll go for it, but if not I won’t! At least women are in a place nowadays that we have the CHOICE about what we do with our bodies – we can have a career or kids or both and that’s a wonderful thing
Haha I have responded the same way to people when they asked if I had kids. I know that eventually I would like to have a baby (a little girl if I have any choice in the matter), but right now…it’s just not the time. Like you, I’m busy enjoying my own company. Being completely “selfish”! I have too many things I want to do in my life, things that I would not be able to do while being a GOOD mother. I want to get my PhD, I want to have a successful private practice, I want to travel the world, I want to fall in love and have years of bliss with just the two of us. The time for babies will come, but until then, we shall enjoy being childless!
You keep talking about how you don’t want a baby then you do. Sometimes you want, or better yet need a man and then you don’t, while other times you want to be married then you don’t. You’re one huge pile of contradictions and on top of that you’re obsessed with this so called Mr. Possibility. Think you’re not? Look at your resent tweet “Mr. Possibility returns from his overseas business trip in t-minus 30 minutes.” Also, go back and read your own blog! It’s entirely about him. You’re needy, clingy, immature and obsessive and until you grow up you will never be with a real man. A real woman not only demands but commands her companion to give her the love and respect that she deserves. If you have an inch of self worth in you, you would tell him to go fuck himself instead of taking him to the bedroom so that he can fuck you. I read your blog about him exploring other possibilities and I immediately picked up on a few things. I am an older woman and I have learned from many, many years of experience and I do not even need to know you, him or the other woman to know that what he had with her was not just a fling. She was important to him and my guess is that you know it! If she wasn’t then why was she the one overseas with him and not you? I also believe that you already knew about her existence and that is why he wouldn’t and will never commit to you, also you agreeing to casual sex with him just gives it all away. You keep making excuses for his behavior and yours, but you have to stop lying to yourself and stop living in that fantasy world of yours. You said that you’re waiting for him to return home, but how do you know that the woman who is in his life isn’t waiting for him as well? How do you know that he’s not going to run to her upon arrival? You only know what he tells you and my guess is that he tells you what you want to hear and then you drop your panties. If you’re having trouble letting him go then maybe this will help “Every time you kiss him you will taste her”.
You’re welcome.
I gotta say I was thinking the same thing myself. Who writes a column about being a love addict then goes on and on about not needing a man?
You don’t need one – you don’t write about it – you write about food or politics or travel or something.
Your whole life screams I need a man.
Do the men you meet know you do this?
Seriously. What’s with anonymous negative comment posters? At least Lindsay is putting herself out there and gaining a following unlike anonymous commentators who can’t find anything else better to do. I’m a huge fan of asking critical questions and having valid points that may not be popular, but at least own up to them if you’re going to dish them out. Otherwise you’re a spineless, bitter hag.
If it is true that we are all just a mirror reflection of each other then I wouldn’t want to be a couple of people that left comments on this blog. Seems like PoisonIvy666 chose the right screen name to reflect her personality.
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