Don’t Panic

I’m still young. I separate people into certain kinds of groups. Babies, Toddlers, Kids, Grown Ups, Really Grown Ups and the Elders. Kids have two subgroups which unfortunately don’t have a translation into English. But it’s something like children and teens. Grown Ups are those who have reached the legal adulthood but are still going through their firsts (jobs, alcoholic comas, solo trip, bad break ups, housemates, live-in lovers, really sick parent, bad hangovers/alcohol mix, apartment, etc) and Really Grown Ups are those that have acquired it for quite some time. Like, long enough to enjoy alcohol, but too long (for many different reasons) to do it all night long and then go to work. And the elders are those that keep arriving ahead of us all in marathons but have their own lines in banks, supermarkets and places like that. 🙂

am a Grown Up, though not a real one. For instance, I’m still not out of the “First Bad Alcohol Mix”. The bright side is I’m starting to think I’m hangover-proof. When I think I’ve established that washing down foul-tasting absinthe with vodka is really not the best idea, I get a little closer acquainted with Champagne than I would like to. Really, people. That thing is pure EVIL. I still don’t own a driver’s license (hey, no judging!), actually, I lost my ID (again), I have  very light sleep except when it’s an alarm clock by my side. Or three (again, no judging!). My dad, though is approaching quite rapidly the Elder stage. He may look in his 50s, but he’s actually approaching his mid-60s. And that means he’s started demanding subtly asking for grandchildren.

The thing is, I feel like I’ve lived really little. There are many things I want to do before settling down. There are so many places I want to see, so many things I want to do, living abroad, working with research in Germany, and even Japan, having a few boyfriends, having casual sex, experimenting sex with a friend, getting dumped (seriously), maybe even kissing a girl! I plan on falling in love, many times and in many ways, getting my heart broken, fighting and making up, experimenting with life and everything it has to offer. Human relationships fascinate me, the way people think and how they act, and why they do some things, why they say the things they say to each other, what moves them. I really want to see the world and satisfy my curiosity about life and people, and, while I think kids are also an amazing part of life, and amazing experience, it’s also something that ties you down, that makes you grow roots. At least, for quite a while.

Right now, I know I’m not ready to sacrifice my freedom, I’m not ready to put my priorities second to someone else’s, not when I’ve seen so little of the world. Quite frankly, I don’t know if I ever will be ready. I also don’t want to be the kind of parent that doesn’t educate, that misses school events, that doesn’t know what’s going on in their kids’ lives, that doesn’t really know their kids, that vomits rules but never teaches by example.

When I picture myself with a baby, I picture my partner and adoption documents. I don’t even know if I want to get married. I think I don’t want to get pregnant, and if I’m to have kids, I would very much like to adopt one. I mean, the world is already so crowded, and it’s full of really cute, adorable children, and some of them really need homes. I’m not saying good homes, because I’m not so sure of my raising kids skills. I’m far from your responsible Grown Up, though people who know me say I’m really ethical, and honest, and even kind (they obviously haven’t seen me PMSing during a fight with my big brother 😉 ). Even though one of my best friends says I’m gonna be an awesome mom with like 3 kids, saying stuff like “Buddha said you have to be nice to your siblings!” as I try to meditate while the kid is doing a Karate strike on my other kid, I’m still really insecure about this matter. When she said that, it kind of made me feel more at ease about being responsible for another life form, and teaching it morals, to behave and shaping it into a confident, happy, kind person.

After I’ve watched Four Brothers, I decided it was a kind of family I would love to have. Psychotic tendencies aside, that woman took four little boys unwanted by society and in need of a home, raised them up into men who respected her authority and not only called her mom, but also looked to their sides and saw her other children as their brothers. I don’t care if they’re tiny hellraisers, who keep breaking windows and falling from tree branches, as long as I could keep them away from drugs, guns and in school, if I can make sure they have any kind of legal job that generates enough income for them and also from procreating before they’re able to sustain themselves and their child, then I’d consider myself an accomplished mom.

But then, someone tells you that someday, not now, but one day, you will be a mom. As in, biological.

Saying I’ve got mixed emotions about this is an understatement. I’ve actually got a list of names I could name my kids. Yes, kids. I think an only child is too lonely, and speaking from experience, two children need a third one as an alternative target for a change. So, after the first wave of panic was past, I remembered when I thought of how I picture myself at the end of my life and how sad it would be, if I really never got married and/or had kids,me, all alone at a hospital bed. When I could be surrounded by children and in-laws and maybe even grandchildren.

Suddenly, this made me smile. You will be a mother. I know we can’t possibly have everything and that in order to have some things, we need to let go of others. We have decisions to make, paths to choose and having some kinds of happiness some times mean abstaining from other kinds. It’s never better or worse, just different. And we’ll never know what could have been. But suddenly there I was, picturing this completely different scenario, where I had a home full of lovely (and maybe bratty, who knows?) children, mine and/or adopted, with beautiful names, these tiny people I would tell about the world and show them how to behave and treat other people, and yell at them because the stereo is too loud, and introduce them to the wonderful world of martial arts and sports.

I was smiling, thinking of how my authoritative dad would be wrapped around their fingers, drooling all over them and spoiling them rotten. And mom looks simply beautiful when she’s with a baby, her eyes light up and you can actually feel the kindness emanating off of her.

Then, came the problem of numbers. One is too lonely, two is a war, three might be a war too, but at least there’s the possibility of alliances and four is too much to bear (maybe not to adopt, though). With the problem of numbers, came the problem of godmothers and godfathers. My male best friend would be of my first child, and then one of my best girlfriends would be with him. But then, there’s this other girlfriend. So I’d need another child, you see. And there’s my second male best friend whom I love to death… And then I remembered this detail: there’s a husband in this picture, and he’s tapping his foot with his arms crossed, thinking of aaaaall his friends just beating each other to baptize one of the kids.

Not to mention, the names. My children’s names will be beautiful, and with really awesome meanings if I can help it! Unless they’re adopted. Then they’ll come with their names, which I’ll tell them is cool, and beautiful, and make up a really incredible meaning!

All I know is I’m really not ready right now. I just hope that some day, if I ever am, my dad will be around for me to see his eyes light up as he lifts them in his arms and makes them forget all the manners I taught them.

But ain’t life fantastic?


~ by 1cellinthesea on April 27, 2012.

One Response to “Don’t Panic”

  1. […] of my best friends is pregnant. I’ve posted earlier about how someone told me I’ll be a mom one day and how it made me feel. How I can barely take care of myself, how I don’t feel like an […]

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