There is this boy who has a crush on me. No, Steve’s not jealous. The boy is four years old. Mason calls me things like, “my sweetest” and runs across the living room in record time when I show up at the front door. Today his mom told me that he said, “you’re just a mommy, but Holly, she’s a lady.” He curls up next to me wherever I’m sitting and begs me to play Go Fish with him or some sort of game that requires using your imagination.
When kids are like this, I consider having one or two someday. But kids aren’t always like this. Mostly I see kids screaming and wailing and hitting and punching. A Wal*mart trip is the best form of birth control. Kids make messes and don’t go to bed when they’re supposed to and ruin hopes of a career one day. And I think I might just be too selfish for the commitment a child requires. I’m just being honest.
Sometimes I feel a little pressured. People expect a married couple to procreate shortly after tying the knot, it seems. Sometimes I mind the comments, sometimes I just tune them out as white noise. Everyone has an opinion on someone else’s life, it seems. But I think you should make those decisions for yourself. I’m not one to allow someone else to make a decision for me. I’m not decided one way or the other, but always leaning in a direction.
I think it just needs more time. Time for me to answer my own questions. Time for me to realize that you’re never 100% prepared for anything. Time for me to find out if there can be a balance, or if it has to be all or nothing. It’s like when I played soccer and didn’t mind sitting on the bench. I welcomed a delay from starting the game I knew I’d end up playing in anyway.