Published 2 years ago
When I decided to go back to work I had to face the same traumatic decision as every other working mother.
As babies, we appear to spend much of our time sleeping, despite growing and learning faster than we do during any other time of our life. We don’t have the ability to communicate at that age, so many people wonder how babies sleep and dream.
Broodiness refers to feelings of longing and the urge to have a baby. The reasoning behind broodiness is somewhat debated by the scientific community. Many theories suggest that broodiness is the result of changing hormones, suggesting women's bodies are biologically programmed to procreate. This theory is supported by the fact that most women begin to feel broody around the same point in their lives, generally between their early to late 20s, but this can vary depending on the individual. On the other hand not all women experience this at the same age, in fact some women do not experience these feelings at all.
I walk forward a few paces in the line to see Santa. There are little reindeer standing on top of cotton which looks a bit like snow. I look behind me and stare at the line of other children waiting to see Santa. There’s a bored girl right behind me, and a teenager with a small girl, and another teenager with his Dad. The elves' bells are jangling so I turn back around, and they look slightly bored at first, but then they smile when they see me watching them.
A few months back I watched Chrissy Teigen give an amazing speech about how it's not ok to ask someone when they are having children. They could be going through fertility treatments, they could be trying to adopt, or they could simply not ever intend on having children. Bottom line, we don't know someone else's struggle. It stirred a lot of emotion up in me, that I typically push to the back of my mind on most days. I identify so much with what she was saying it’s insane. Not having children by the age of thirty isn't an uncommon thing nowadays, but for some reason you still get the same old tired “your clock is ticking” or my favorite “those eggs won't cook for too much longer.” I get it, I do. It’s not that I don't want children, I do hope to have my own little bundle of joy someday. People, however, act as if they get offended that I don't have children or that I'm not actively trying. I'm honestly just not in the position I would like to be in before I bring a being that's totally dependant on me into this world. I got a late start on college, so at the age of 29, I'm still working on my degree. I want to be financially stable, not working paycheck to paycheck to barely make ends meet. I can't even begin to think about the world I would be bringing a child up in these days with being in a constant state of war, political turmoil, social injustice, bullying, and let's be frank here all the creeps running around nowadays. When people feel the need to discuss someone else's declining fertility, it tends to get a tad under my skin and here's why:
We celebrate our birthdays every year and usually there is that one person that celebrates it even more than we do, our mother. They reminisce about the day we were born or tell some silly story about us when we were just infants. They take pride that they brought such a unique and smart individual into the world. That is the case for most mothers. Some mothers forget to even call you or wish you a happy birthday in any way. Maybe it’s not even some mothers, maybe it is just mine.
My most significant memories of childhood center around contributions made by a protective mother and the lack thereof from an absentee dad. My Mother is a head strong island woman. My dad on the other hand is one who, from the time I met him, wondered aimlessly through life for much of his life without any specific positive direction. In retrospect, I believe I owe my determination to survive to my mother and my ability to walk away from situations at the drop of a hat is thanks to my dad. Nevertheless, I remember vividly how Mother would bend over backwards to provide and protect me and my brothers. There were times in my childhood I felt like I would choke from Mother’s protection. She did not give me what I wanted and there were times, we had confrontations about what I thought I was entitled to have. My necessities always prevailed because she always won those battles. I grew up feeling unappreciative for what Mother did for me, at least, until as a single parent I struggled with my own children’s educational, medical and other expenses. From childhood until college age, my accepted norm for family life was having my Mother provide for me and my siblings. To this, there was one exception to the rule, one pair of shoes.
Presently, I am looking back to years lost in my life. Chunks of time that I can not remember, some wishing I could forget. I was a reactive person, meaning not thinking about anything before I had time to make a rational, thought out plan. This on more than one occasion has landed me places most people see on television and confusion sets in. I've seen the dirtiest intentions of people who claimed to be a close friend. The wheels turning in the mind of a manipulator trying for another big score while standing side by side pretending to give a fuck about someone while leading them into a negative situation. Only pretending to console the hurt while pulling the strings in the background to benefit from the trap they set for you to walk into initially. The conniving slick plan of a person who has been a con artist simply waiting for your demise. Circling like a starved desert vulture, waiting for the right time to pounce on a carcass that has been picked over by bigger, stronger creatures. Creatures that have just taken the good parts and left this shell laying there with no regard to the respect that once beating heart deserved. A quick dive towards the dirt, gliding to the nearest spot with easy access to feast and flee when satisfied.
I had a moment with my almost three year old grandson yesterday.
Being a parent for the very first time is a scary, but thrilling challenge. Each day would be filled with something totally new as the baby grows and develop his or her very own personality.
So I was having communication problems with my daughter. It seemed that for some reason she just couldn’t follow any of my simple and very reasonable commands. Whether it was cleaning up behind herself or reporting an issue involving her younger siblings, Haylee proved irresponsible and it finally made me wonder why.
I recently read an article ominously titled “Being a good parent will physiologically destroy you, new research confirms”. The one subtitle casually read: Empathizing with your kid is great but it comes at a price.