Kids

This weekend I had the pleasure of hanging out with this chick and this darling man.

So, since this It's My Blog and I'll Cry if I Want To, I shall select the neurosis of choice and blog about that, rather then tell you the delightful details of my visit with them. Besides, I have a feeling they've both already talked about all the very cool New Yorky things we did.

Zenchick and I have been friends for a few years. As she is fond of pointing out, I began blogging at her suggestion. I always enjoy spending time with her, because she is one of the few people that actually talks more than I do, and says things worth listening to. We had a jolly old time.

One thing I never really knew about her is how great she is with kids. We were having coffee in the Village, and there was a lady with a toddler in a stroller. This child was munching half-heartedly on a muffin of some sort. Not only did Zenchick engage in a game of peekabo with this child, she spoke intelligently with its mother.

Now, kids intimidate the hell out of me. I feel like an idiot trying to talk to them. They have a limited vocabulary, and I never know which words they are likely to know and which they aren't. So I tend to just say things like "Hi, there! What have you got there?" Or some other inane thing. Usually they look at me like "Why the hell should I talk to you?" If I was a toddler, I wouldn't talk to someone who looked like me. I have weird hair. Kids can tell when you're uncomfortable around them, and I'm sure I radiate discomfort. Also I usually look like I'm not in the best of moods. I could snap and start yelling for no reason, like the teachers in the lunchroom. And if the parents are nearby, I stay the hell away. I figure it's only a matter of time before some profanity escapes my lips, and the parents will give me a look of angry disgust, thinking it's people like me who make it so hard to raise kids in New York City. I'm sure therre have already be some incidents of nearby kids who have heard me swear and repeated it gleefully back home in front of the grandparents. Which I suppose, it an argument against wheeling toddlers through the streets of New York. But still. I don't want to be the source.

And then, it might not be me. I might decide to try saying "Hi there, aren't you pretty" to some angelic-looking child, who might react to it by suddenly spinning their head around and screaming as though I were in the process of stuffing her into a gym bag. Or, she might decide she likes me and cling to my pant leg, or throw up on me or some other random inexplicable child-like behavior.

I stay away.

Not Zenchick. She talks to them. She deliberately engages them in conversation. She was playing peek-a-boo with a random strange child! And the Mom was totally ok with it. Not only that, they got into some kind of conversation about how large children ought to be at certain ages.

Now Zenchick has an MSW. She knows people. Communication is a thing. Maybe she has learned some special kid-friendly, no-profanity, innocent, safe dialogue or something. She intimated that it might have something to do with a ticking biological clock, but I don't think so. My clock is ticking like Big Ben and I sure as hell ain't learning any new words. Also she has a sibling who has kids. She has direct aunt experience, where I have only friends with kids. Make that one friend with kids. In Chicago. I've seen them 2 or 3 times in their lives. Oh, wait, I do have one New York friend with a six-year-old, but that child is SO ENERGETIC I cannot handle it at all. I get tired just watching his Mom parent him. Man.

I always figured when I have a kid of my own, I'm going to be one of those annoying Moms that thinks my own kids are great, but everyone else's are brats who should be locked in closets until they're 18. I hope I'm not like that, but I see it happening. I'm very intolerant. I also see my own kids growing up repressed and scared and then rebelling outrageously at 14 because they grew up in fear of my intolerant, judgemental attitude. Oh, wait, no, that was my youth.

AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!

This is all very silly. I'm in my early 30s and have time. I'm not even overly anxious to get married again right away, though I am thinking about it from a whole-life perspective.

I'll post more about the weekend later. I just needed to get this off my chest.