The Littles
Thursday, May 1 : 5:26 AM : 0 comments :
I have this mistaken belief that I'm great with kids. The mistake isn't that I'm not great -- okay, decent -- with kids, but it's more that I'm way overprotective and think of them as super incompetent beings. You gotta let kids live and learn but I'm always hyper aware of the many ways things that can go wrong or how quickly they could fall and shatter their little bodies or something. It's horrible. When I (awkwardly) hold babies, I'm all tensed up thinking I'm going to drop them.Nothing makes my friends laugh harder than watching me hold a baby, as if it's two incongruous things smashed together. Similar to how they laugh when I have a dumbell in my hands. Or a power tool.When babies start crawling or walking, I'm like right around them, using my arms and hands as a protective halo. I'd be like the five star crash test of baby sitters. Your child would never leave the confines of a pillowy couch if I had my way. It may seem extreme but it's the only rational thing to do. The best defense is a giant inflatable tank that your baby could never climb out of. But I'm learning that babies are more durable than I think. For example, with slightly older kids, especially boys, they like to climb, jump, run, and fall. They want to play some hard ball and get mussed up and dirty.
I gotta learn how to let go I guess.
My whole line is always that I like kids but only if they're related to me. I'll put in a lot of effort to make sure that my cousins really like me. Other people's kids? Annoying tots. But then there's that middle ground, the kids of my friends. Where do those fall? Well, if you love your friends, it's hard not to love their spawn. Especially when they're so darn cute and well behaved that you can't really resist touching their chubby cheeks and marveling over their tiny toes.But goddam playing with kids is tiring. Today was play with your friends' kids day. Lunch with Gene and 9-month year old Sage and then the park and dinner with Micah, who's three. By the time we put Micah into bed and read him a story or two, I was super pooped and zonked out on the couch. This was at like ten o'clock. Did I mention I woke up at noon and don't have a job or any other energy draining activities to speak of?
Give it up for parents of young people out there. I don't know how you do it.
