Ha! Well, what spurred all of this on was the baby fever I caught sometime last month. Now, I've always been the sappy type when it comes to children, fiercely protective of all cubby cheeks and little baby giggly wigglies. But recently, it's been over the top. I cry when I see kids sad, and I cry when I see them happy. I start arguments over the way my child will be transported to school or the activities they will participate in (ie. my child will devour books as soon as he can read), even though I don't have a child to argue over. Most of these arguments end in screaming through tears. "My child will never take a yellow bus to school! It's not like the Magic School Bus anymore! Kids are hurting and bullying other kids and teachers are doing nothing about it! I will raise hell!" Listen, I never claimed to be sane.
It's not PMS; it's just PM. I seemed to have switched into 'parent mode' all of the sudden. For one, 'parent mode' is the opposite of rose-tinted glasses. (This is not an official term. I totally made it up, but it is real, I tell you.) When you're in 'parent mode', you see the world as this super dangerous place full of land mines for your children (or my crazy case, future, potential children) to trip over and get obliterated. A world that is a scary monster of a place, lying in wait to swallow my babies up whole. It's seeing all the negative aspects of life as if looking through dark, cloudy glasses. Shit-tinted glasses if you will.
Secondly, transitioning to 'parent mode' is also this moment when you feel like you're not really living just for yourself. Recently, I find myself making decisions with something else in mind. For instance, I've always vowed to live in NYC for the rest of my life. People would ask where I planned to settle down, buy a home, raise children, and I'd look at them as if they had two heads. Right here in New York City, of course. They'd remind me how expensive it would be to live in the city and raise the 2 children I'd always wanted, and I'd say "fine, I'll just have one then." Just like that, I gave up a future little ball of mush. I was ruthless. But over the past six months or so, I felt this steady almost imperceptible shift. I'd pass this all-boys high school near my house and think "would my future son fit in here?" Although I'd still prefer to an apartment somewhere in the West Village or a Townhouse on the UWS, I find myself watching the HGTV Network and wondering whether my family would be better suited for a colonial or a victorian style home (fyi, neither of those are options on the island of Manhattan). I've begun factoring in the possibility of a family into my career and financial choices. And even though I still think growing up in the city is the best childhood ever,every now and then I wonder how cool it would be for my kid to grow up in a small town where everyone knows him. Even, reminding myself that I better get my shit together for my future children. Who am I? Maybe I'm just starting to grow up.
Oh, and I cry over anything related to children, so there's that. I've turned into the wailing woman. I swear, I'm going to be that teary-eyed mother who can barely let go of my little Charlotte's hand on the first day of kindergarten. Goodness, help us all.
PS: I also mix my face with my favorite celebrities just to see the children I'll never have. If only Robert Pattinson could see how perfect we'd be :)