You know, the day where the teacher described, in detail, just how hard parenting is. Wait, what? That wasn’t in my sex ed class? Huh. Well, it should have been because had I gotten a taste of just exactly what parenting was like, I think I would have stopped and tried a little harder to cool down my hormones. I’m not talking about taking the computerized baby home where it’s programmed to wake up at two in the morning or cry for ten minutes inconsolably. Although, that’s a great idea (but one that wasn’t offered when I was in school). I’m talking about the times when your three year old starts screaming in a store because he wants to walk instead of ride in the cart, but wants to grab or touch everything. Or the times your teenager gives you attitude and talks back. That’s what needs to be taught in sex ed class.
A friend of mine and I were talking about this very subject. We think we should be the ones who go into schools and give presentations to high school kids. Tell them exactly what they could end up with. Bring video tape and show them what those cute little babies that they think won’t be so hard to take care of, turn into. Hellions. Smart-mouthed, think they know more than their parents, pains in the ass. Tell them that their kids would turn into THEM! I know. My daughter is turning into exactly what I used to be. Except she’s doing it at 10 instead of 16.
It kills me when people tell me how great their kids are. I can’t help wondering if it’s true or if I went terribly wrong with mine. Or even more confounding is when teachers or other adults tell me how good my kids are for them. I’m glad they’re good for other people, but why for other people, and not at home? Don’t get me wrong. I love my kids and don’t know what kind of life I would have had if I didn’t have them. But they can make me crazy! And yes, I get it. They have good days and bad days, just like adults do. But sometimes I wonder if my kids act up just to drive me nuts. But, still, I love them terribly and there are days when I wouldn’t trade them for anything. And then there are the bad days…
I read a blog on here by Simple Dude (funny guy; kinda reminds me of my husband) where he talks about a friend of his that got married in his early 20’s. (Read it here.) He mentions no should get married young because you’ll always wonder what you missed out on. I would like to add having children to that statement. I had my first child just after I turned 19. My 30th birthday is less than two months away and I am having a hard time with it. I don’t want to turn 30 because I feel like I haven’t lived my 20’s yet. I didn’t get to go to wild college parties, stay out all night and go out for breakfast before crashing, or even try to pick up guys in a bar. I was at home, taking care of a baby. My friends tried for a time to get me to come out and do all those wild crazy things that people in their early 20’s do. But I had to say no because I didn’t want to be one of those “teen moms” who left their kid with their parents and did whatever they wanted. I wanted to be responsible and mature. So, eventually, my friends stopped calling. But on those bad days I spoke of before, I will sit and wonder what I missed and try to imagine what my life would have been like had I made different choices. Maybe that makes me a bad mother, but it’s hard not to wonder.
But, getting back on topic.
I think scientists should get to to work on the whole time travel notion. Or maybe not time travel, but the ability to show people the future. Sort of like Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. Except not with ghosts, but just be able to type a name into a computer and bring it up on a screen. Show kids what their life would look like if they had a kid too young. Now that would be some good birth control!