My Case For Having Children

I’ve realized recently that I have once again entered a fleeting moment in parenthood that is about to fade into memories. Those of you out there with children probably know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s that time between being a baby and a full fledged kid, “toddlerdom” if you will, when children are excessively cute, exceedingly curious, and incredibly fast learners. She can now pick up on a new word within the 1st or 2nd time she hears it spoken (much to my embarrassment sometimes), and like a broken record, repeats it over and over and over again. Always testing the waters, whatever can be touched, seen, heard, smelled, not to mention opened or taken apart, simply must be felt, looked at, listened to, sniffed, opened and more likely than not… dissected.

She’s also very much aware of the variances in her social interactions with all of us. She’s learned (mostly) that the cat is not the one to be trifled with, and yet tests her almost daily. She’s cognizant of the consequences involved and treads lightly at first. If the cat happens to be in no mood for the child’s antics it’s not long thereafter that warning bite is delivered and a “NO, NO, NO, kitty!” is heard throughout the house. She knows how to garner her sibling’s attention, push mommy’s buttons and how to get daddy’s affection. She’s basically manipulated everyone in the house to do her bidding, and yet we all happily accept our servitude (cat included).

It’s hard to imagine a voice that can’t even properly annunciate the word “popsicle” (usually pronounced “gogck-pickle”) would carry that kind of clout, but it is what it is, and my kid isn’t even spoiled. She sleeps in her own bed, no more bottles or pacifiers, and TV shows (the Wiggles and Sesame Street primarily) are rare treats. I can only imagine how tight the bonds of parental slavery are in other, less disciplined households. And so it is that every part of our day is scheduled around the youngest, weakest, least capable amongst us, and yet one unsolicited kiss or hug …an act so pure and free of ulterior motives… somehow easily justifies the expense, the snot noses, the sleepless nights, and the complete encroachment upon life as I knew it.

Parenting is a hard, often times thankless hobby, but worthwhile nonetheless.