I’m a Mom. A Mother. A Mommy. A Mama. Whatever you call it, that’s what I am. I’m not exactly sure HOW it happened… and I don’t mean the scientific workings… just… HOW.
I’ve never been what you would call “a kid person”… In fact, throughout most of my life I’ve avoided them like the plague. Whining, crying, screaming, snotty, gooey little brats. I wanted no part of it. Why would anyone? Heck, when I was still a kid myself, going to a friends house who had a baby or toddler sibling grossed me out. Everything was sticky. Somehow or another I would always get stuck holding some stinky little human that would eventually spit up on me or plaster me with some kind of semi-chewed up piece of food. NASTY!!!! No way will I EVER have kids!
My school years came and went and I still was NOT a kid person. Still couldn’t stand little kids. Still wanted no part of it. Still avoided them like the plague. I got married and moved from New York to New Jersey and always was the question “When are you going to have kids?”. If I wasn’t feeling well at work… “Oh she must be pregnant!” No! No! NO! NO! NOOOO!. No kids! Back OFF! It ain’t gonna happen! Not me. Never! No way. You want one, YOU HAVE ONE. I’m NOT having kids!
More years passed, life changed and I got divorced and moved to Texas. I eventually ended up with the choice of moving back to New York or staying in Texas with friends as their live-in babysitter. I wasn’t ready to leave Texas, so I became a reluctant kid watcher in exchange for meals and a bed. There was a little boy just out of diapers and his sister who was a few years older. Mostly I just watched the boy as the sister was in school, but occasionally I had both of them. There was nothing “wrong” with the kids, they were your typical kids, but I was still NOT a kid person, so I hated it. With a passion. I don’t think the kids ever knew I didn’t like watching them though. In fact when my parents came to visit and mentioned me coming home the kids BEGGED my parents to let them “keep me” and it almost made me cry. I got along just fine with the kids, we played and did kid stuff like you do with kids… I just had an inner misery that I couldn’t shake. I was NOT a kid person.
Eventually the boy went to preschool and the mom was able to go to school around the kids school schedule, so I got a full time job and was able to pay my own way. Life changed and after falling in love I moved out and once again was “kid-less”. A few years went by and my boyfriend, Aaron, and I bought a house and got married. We went about our lives happily married and kid free.
And then it happened. I had “all the signs”. Everything was pointing to one oh-so-certain conclusion. I was scared. I was sick to my stomach. I was positive that I was pregnant. I bought a test at the store and it came back negative. I was relieved, but the signs didn’t go away…. maybe it was too soon to take the test. Aaron and I talked and talked and talked about all the “what if’s” and finally came to the conclusion that we were okay with it. We were happy, we had our own house, we both had good paying jobs… we could do this. We were ready to be “kid people”. I bought another test, but it also came back negative. I waited and bought another because I still had all the symptoms and kept reading about “false negatives” on these store bought pregnancy tests. Something was definitely going on with me so I decided to go get a blood test. It was negative. They don’t lie.
Somehow both Aaron and I were incredibly disappointed. We hadn’t planned on having a kid, why weren’t we relieved? Somehow during “the scare”, we got excited and hopeful. The doctor said that sometimes your body can “play tricks on you”. That’s what mine did to me, and it worked. It tricked me into wanting to have a baby. It made me “a kid person”.
Aaron and I talked more and more and came to the un-changeable decision that we were going to be parents. That’s all it took. We tried once. It worked. 9 months later we had Cody. He”ll be two in June.
I am SUCH a kid person.