Looking at My Kids Fighting, I Realize Kids Aren’t For Me
I have a small panic attack slowly and steadily approaching. I’m writing this post amid my two toddlers battling over the same dinner the other has. I realize many times a day that kids (including my own) aren’t for me.
Though I enthusiastically helped with three much younger sisters, changing, feeding, late-night pacing through colic, it’s a different animal when they’re yours. I acknowledge my arrogance in thinking that helping with my sisters, and waiting until my mid-thirties would offer me a unique edge on this tricky journey.
As they battle in Hulk and Wonder Woman costumes, I declare for the 5th time, “someone is going to get hurt.” I just wait for the big one. The shriek of a finger slammed in a door, or a fake kick that lands contact. [Read more…] about Kids Aren’t For Me… Including My Own.