When people ask me if I love having children my answer is always conflicted. Honestly, I love having children. It is my vocation, my life, it is what I signed up for. There would be no magic for me without my children showing me the world through their eyes and helping me to understand the value of nature to a higher degree. They also bring back memories of how I viewed the world when I was little, like when I was four I was mesmerized by a Christmas tree that actually grew it’s own candy.
A house without children would be, would be…quiet! I would die in a quiet house. Granted I could play the music I wanted to play without a nine year old DJ changing the songs. I could watch movies, listen to NPR and read without being ridiculously interrupted. I would barely have to clean the house and my beloved objects wouldn’t “got broke all by itself”.
There would be no Koala Bumpers stuck to our new, beautiful wood floors and no boogers or bottoms to wipe. I would not walk into a bathroom and find a dump the size of a large colon curled around the toilet.
I could feel sexy and strut around the house in lingerie and lounge in erotic poses on all white furniture when the mood presented itself. I would have no processed food in the house. I would sleep, and best of all I would share more intimate moments with Baddy, and perhaps we would no longer have to resort to heavy groping in closets, bathrooms or alleys when out on the town!
Without children my purpose may shift to something less valuable. I would see things differently and perhaps not so optimistically. I may not care so much about trying to revive our planet to ensure that my children will not suffer when I am gone.
If I were asked if I would do it all over again knowing what I know now my answer would be a definitive and resounding yes. Baddy’s answer might be slightly different.