My friends Sapa and Chdu invited me over this weekend for a lovely dinner and a visit with Sapa's hilarious parents and Sapa and Chdu's year-old twin boys who are not named according to any of my suggestions.
For many years, it was kind of a running joke among my friends that I didn't like kids. And so when a bunch of my friends started to have kids, I did nothing to change their opinions. I willingly attended pre-baby events and mailed knitted hats and visited pregnant friends on bed-rest and gave good gifts and excellent parenting advice but I never made empty promises of baby-sitting. And they never asked.
There was evidence that my reputation as a child-hater had successfully preceded me when I went over to my lovely friends Deye and Grmi's house to see them and their new addition. It was all quite civilized and there was definite cooing (mainly on my part and from a safe distance) but actual adult conversation took place. My friend Jugr had visited the week before. Over coffee days later, Jugr asked me if I'd played with the baby and I was like "Noooo . . . did you?" Apparently, known-baby-lover Jugr had been handed the baby immediately upon entering the house. I believe I shook hands with the baby. It was all going according to plan.
Twin mom Sapa is well aware of my kid aversion. It turns out that when you have twins, your "not-liking-kids" friend can suck it up. Back when the babies were born, an exhausted Sapa asked if I would come over to help out one night when Chdu had to go out and she needed someone to help her tag team the babies until the night nurse came. It was a constant round of feeding, soothering, sterilizing the soothers after they were spit onto the floor and licked by the cat, changing and trying to charm the boys to sleep. I must say -those kids were tiny and wrinkly and cute and cuddly and Sweet Fancy Christ, WHY CAN'T YOU SLEEP IF I'M NOT JIGGLING YOU, BABIES?? WHY??
I was there for only five hours and I was so exhausted that I had to TAKE A DAY OFF the next day to recover. And I DON'T EVEN HAVE A JOB.
We all relived this story on Saturday night and there were many guffaws from Sapa's parents over my lack of baby-caring fortitude. I once again expressed my awe at the deep love Sapa and Chdu must have for their kids, because only that kind of love could give you the energy to handle the constant business of parenting. The awe continued on Saturday - there were four other adults there and baby-hater Roro still managed to end up holding a baby more than once. HOW DO YOU PEOPLE DO IT? Is it drugs??
After the kids were in bed, Sapa and I hung out in the kitchen, doing dishes and joking around about how bad I am with kids. I told her that I thought I might start a business where I offer to watch people's kids, but that's all I'll do. Watch them. And then maybe report back on what happened to them at the end of the day.
It's funny because Sapa understands that it's not that I don't like kids. It's that I fear them. I fear their sudden changes of mood. I fear their constant loud noises and shrieking. I fear their geyser-like digestive issues. I fear their inability to communicate in a language I understand. But most of all, I fear saying the one thing that will screw them up for the rest of their lives, like "You were an accident" or "Chenille makes you look pasty" or "Clifford the Big Red Dog mauled that neighbour kid to death". It's not that I don't think your kids are wonderful, people. It's that I fear I will make them less wonderful by teaching them dirty jokes too young or feeding them whole bowls of maraschino cherries. So the question is, is my kid xenophobia a fear I should attempt to face? Or should I just continue to knit from afar and admire photos of your young? History will decide.
In any case, parents, including my own - I raise my morning glass of mimosa to you and salute your Herculean efforts. You are heroes in my eyes. And if you need me to watch your kids . . .