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Upon meeting the four year-old boy I’d be sitting for this evening, he says to me,
“ARE YOU A TEENAGER?”
Ha! How droll. No, dear boy. How refreshing for you to be at an age where you can ask a woman about her age as the first question. (Don’t get used to it, kid.)
“WELL, ARE YOU A MOM?”
Okay, that one put slightly more ice in my veins. A direct hit! Fine work, young captain!
Nope, not a mom.
“WELL THEN WHAT ARE YOU?”
I had just left a good friend a message on my way to sit with these little ones that I’ve been thinking a lot about the role of women “of age” who are unnmarried and without kids. How fascinating to have that reflected back immediately.
You of course have not forgotten that it’s my birthday on November 22.
I’ll be 35. Mid-30′s. Next major milestone, 40 (God willing).
Whenever I’ve leaned in to my spiritual wisdom about the will-I-or-won’t-I have kids question, the answer has truly always been an unequivocal,
Hmm. Remains to be seen. Check back later.
I tried on the Definite No for a while just to see if I could get a sense of clarifying closure.
I tried on the Definite Yes for a while just to, well, same thing as before.
You know the saying I quoted earlier? Well, if you missed it, I’ll refresh you.
“This being the case, how shall I proceed?”
These seem to be the case now: I run out of energy quickly. I get frazzled and melt down. I absolutely adore most every kid I’ve ever met. I love to play. I have character defects out the ying yang, and that’s after years of deliberate intentful addressing of removing them. I’m selfish and self-centered. I’m creative. I’m in love with someone who is patiently fond of me, yet who also told me openly he hasn’t really told more than a handful of people about me. I’m cagey about trusting. I have a fiercely generous nurturing side.
So what wins in this jumble in order to know best how I shall proceed?
Recently I heard a great speaker define his version of spirituality. I’ll paraphrase. If I step off the side of a 20-story building, I can pray all I want on the way down but I’m still going to die. If I pray before I jump over the edge for guidance, then something has a chance to help me not jump off the ledge. I don’t have to know how that thing works, I just won’t be dead like I would be in the first scenario.
Okay he said it much more eloquently but it applies to this situation. I can pray and pray and pray and THIS BEING THE CASE is that my body is going through a natural aging process and after a certain point I will no longer be able to, I say this lovingly, breed.
**oh wow. I just looked over in the midst of writing – I’m at the home computer where I’m babysitting and being neither a teenager nor a mom so what am I – and the same pillow my therapist has in her office is sitting next to this computer. I hold onto that pillow for dear life every other week. okay that’s just beautiful enough to get me out of my head about this.**
I’m grateful that a James Brown song is playing at a house nearby and I can hear it but it’s not disturbing the kids.
I’m grateful that I watched a fun movie (Spiderwick) and listened to sweet nighttime music with the kids as they fell asleep tonight.
I’m grateful that I have on my client plate for next week ALL tasks that I want to do and am excited about.
I’m grateful that I’m developing deeper friendships from choice.
I’m grateful that every day I learn more about healthy boundaries.
I’m grateful that while it does seem I’ll be moving in the coming months, the 3 Charlie’s Angels are intending to stick together and move together.
I’m grateful that you’re reading this.
I’m grateful that my body today is healthy and that I’ve learned to love her after years of war.
I’m grateful for kids and adults and everything in between, around, and outside of that range.
