Sunday, December 9, 2012


Other People's Kids.

Let me start by stating that this only goes for strangers' kids.  Not for the kids of friends and family.  I like those kids. :)

I've always been fond of children.  One of my earliest memories is of seeing a small toddler, and thinking, "Aww.  I love kids." And then realizing that was an incredibly odd thought for a five-year-old.  By the end of Kindergarten, I knew I wanted to teach, and by the time I was 12, I was telling my grandmother that I wanted to be a "professional mommy".*  Later, I got my degree in education, and worked my way through school at daycares, schools, and as a nanny.  And I loved those kids.  Every one of them.

And then I had my own kid.  And he is awesome.

Suddenly, other people's kids lost their luster.

I found myself becoming annoyed with children for the first time ever.  That kid being a little jerk in the store?  Suddenly, I was just glad he wasn't mine (at least, not this time).  That cute newborn at a restaurant?  For the first time, I had zero desire to coo over it.  The adorable little girl dancing at Faire?  Cute.  Meh.

It's not that I hate OPKs, or even really dislike them.  I'm just not interested in them.  Not in the least.

I have my own, now.  And he's plenty interesting and cute all on his own.  :)

*How prophetic of 12-year-old me. . .

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