Parenthood

I love living the single life. It’s a freedom that I can’t imagine giving up for anyone. So I’ve always told myself that’s how I’ll know it’s happened…when I find that person who makes me want to give up my solitary freedom and invite them in, that’s when I’ll know it’s *gulp* LOVE.

Thing is…the way I was raised, that scenario also includes having a kid, or maybe two. And while sometimes I think that I would love to have a little one to play with, and hold, and guide (hey, don’t laugh…I think I’d make a great Dad!), most of the time I have to admit to myself a hard truth…I don’t think it will ever happen. Even if I found that “special someone” to share my life with, I’m not sure I have what it takes to be a parent. And that thought makes me a little sad.

I’ve said this before- my family is so “functional” that it’s almost abnormal in this day and age. My grandparents were together for 51 years, and my parents are still together after 44. My brother and I are- at least by most standards- normal, well-adjusted, and contributing nicely to society, thank you very much. Considering that, I’ve wondered a lot over the last several years (age will do that to you) what my problem is- why the aversion to having kids? And it all comes down to this…it scares the holy shit out of me. And not in the “I’ll feel differently once I have one” way, but in the “there’s not a chance in hell I’m putting myself through that” way. Selfish? OH yeah, very. But humor me here…

Kids these days have so many more pressures than anything that I had to deal with in my (albeit long ago) childhood. Back in “the day” there were drugs, there was alcohol, there was sex- just like today. The difference is that drugs in my day meant pot. Alcohol in my day meant a beer or two. And sex in my day meant…well, sex.

It’s a whole different world out there now. Today when we talk about drugs we talk about heroin, or meth, or those “cool” psychedelic drugs like Ecstasy. They don’t just make you high, they kill- kids.

Drinking has changed since my day, too. We used to chug beer. Good for you? Well…no. But we didn’t die. Now the news is full of stories of college kids who binge drink with hard liquor and die of alcohol poisoning. Dead by 20- WAY too fucking young to die. They’re older, but they’re still kids.

And sex? Seems harmless enough, doesn’t it? And it was, in my day. Of course there were the usual suspects when it came to the perils of unprotected fornication; an STD here or there, maybe a baby or two before the age of 15. Not pretty. But today, it can be a matter of life and death. And guess which age bracket is dying in bigger numbers than ever before…yep.

Even worse than those things though, and one of the things that scares me worst of all, is that children are also preyed on in this generation, more so than in any before. It absolutely breaks my heart to read about children kidnapped from their front yards, picked up at their schools and never seen again, or snatched right out of their own homes in the dead of night. And adults molesting children…I take that very personally, and I would be in jail for murder if it ever happened to my child. I don’t know how parents cope with the possibilities of such things.

At this point in my life, then, I have to wonder…am I a coward? Lazy? Are all of these things just excuses to make me feel better when people seem disappointed in me because I don’t have kids of my own? Or the worst thought of all, one that I struggle with from time to time…is there something missing in me that makes having and loving a child impossible? God, how I hope the answer is no.

And so, I’ll probably (I won’t say never!) know the joys (??) of parenthood myself. But to my friends who live with this responsibility every minute of your lives, I mean this from the bottom of my heart- you have my undying respect for the job you do. How do you do it?? You have the hardest job on the planet, but you never give up. Anyone can make a kid, but you guys help them learn to be good people. They don’t always make it easy on you, and I’ve seen your struggles- but you’re always there for them, and they’ll always remember the contributions you made to their lives.

And I envy you that.