After that, I was absolutely positive I would someday become a parent. I have zero desire to have a husband or even a relationship of any kind, but I want to be a mother. I had always wanted to be one, but that was the moment I realized that there was just no way I would not wind up being a parent.
An amazing parent, in fact! Well, hopefully amazing (and amazingly hopeful). Of course, most people who want kids believe they’ll be excellent parents, so my claim is not extraordinary. Nevertheless, there is this bizarre stream of constant thought in the back of my head, keeping track of things that might make me someday be a better mother, or the ways in which I will need to change before I am ready to become one.
I will someday completely quit drinking because I should and because I know myself, and I am not a responsible drunk. I will exercise in order to decrease the negative aspects of my fibromyalgia so that way, I’ll be better capable of playing with them. I will eat better so I don’t wind up getting heart disease and diabetes, both of which run in my family, and wind up too sick to care for my own little muffins.
Don’t worry — I fully realize that I should be doing all of these things for myself already, and that taking care of yourself is part of being a good parent (so I hear, at least, but I am obviously not an authority), but the fact of the matter is that I’m the kind of person who only goes on walks right now because I have a dog. Parenthood will likely be quite similar, though exponentially more intense.

Raising kids is basically just watching them do this, right?
But now, I am reconsidering my desire to have kids. Not because I am realizing I permanently want the amount of freedom I presently have or because I’m discovering just how much it costs to raise a kid by watching my relatives who all have broods of their own. It’s not because I don’t want my body to change — in fact, my mom says it’s a little freakish that I’m kind of looking forward to all the commonly thought of as less appealing aspects of pregnancy, such as stretch marks (which shouldn’t be that big of a surprise anyway).
It’s because I am heartbroken over what happened at Sandy Hook and I do not know when I’ll be able to feel okay about purposefully bringing children into such a world where such horrible, horrible things can happen to them.






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