First real test that I knew was coming

I have a deep dark secret. It’s bad. It’s something I’ve tried to keep hidden because it just doesn’t fit in with my overall kid loving personality: I don’t really like kids. You didn’t see that coming did you? Let me clarify: I don’t really like kids I don’t know. All the kids I’ve met and gotten to know are awesome and I can’t get enough of them. But put me in a situation where there are a bunch of running screaming children being goofy and loud and I panic and want to hide. It’s not really kids, I don’t like adults either. That’s not fair. It’s not that I don’t like people, I’m just incredibly shy and anti-social and scared to death of social interactions with people I don’t know. (or even slightly know. I had a near nervous breakdown on Jaden’s first birthday when Matt’s extended family started showing up. I ended up in my mom’s room crying until Matt calmed me down and pointed out that people aren’t here to see me, they’re here for Jaden. Whew! What a relief! She can deal with them. I’ll just be over here pouring punch.)

I don’t know what makes me so uncomfortable around kids. Maybe it’s they’re lack of boundries: they do and say whatever they want and don’t care if they get weird looks from anyone. Me? I’m embaressed very easily. Even as a kid I had a very strong filter and was never one to just fly off the handle and let my inhibitions fall away. Then I got older and discovered booze but that’s a post for a different time.

What really drives me nuts about kids is their need to TALK talk talk and their odd sense of humour. Goofy voices and jokes that just don’t make sense annoy me. They think they’re hilarious but I know they’re not. Stop pretending, you Not Funny Kids.

Even before I was pregnant with J I knew this would be a huge hurdle for me to overcome. Kids talk. Kids tell bad jokes. Kids are goofy little creatures. I’m a huge fan of goofy but this is a different goofy. Anyway, my first test has come:

Jaden has a goofy voice. She puckers her lips and then talks through them in a slightly lower voice than her regular sweet voice. It has taken all my will power to not snap, “Talk normal, kid.” Even my own kid annoys me. God, what kind of mother am I? A darn good one, thank you very much, because I HAVEN’T told her to stop talking in that goofy voice. I know this is normal for kids and I don’t want her to grow up with the same social fears I did and that I still grapple with on a daily basis. So I grit my teeth, smile and just let her be her goofy self.

THAT’S good parenting.

Now, if I can only get over my fear of her first play date (which has NOT come but it will once she starts school) I’ll be set.


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