[QUOTE=Guinastasia]
Jesus Christ, why did she even have kids in the first place? It’s too much bother to spend TEN minutes to read a freaking story? Wow. No one said you had to totally stop doing everything you love-but there’s a MIDDLE GROUND, bitch.
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No kidding. I recently ordered about 20 books for my son in hopes that he’d develop a love of reading. It worked, and he asks for everything from the simple The Rainbow Fish to the tediously long One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. His expressive language skills, which were lacking (his father was reading encyclopedias before he began to speak sentences at age four,) have improved exponentially since.
I read several books a night, sometimes to the point that I start to lose my voice. His whims lead him to ask for any number of the nearly 50 books he has, but I always have to read The Pokey Little Puppy, One Fish, Two Fish, and Goodnight Moon.
When you add that redundancy to his insistence that I sit and watch the Care Bears’ Big Wish Movie from start to finish each night after dinner, one can imagine the dread I feel each afternoon when I back out of my driveway to fetch him from daycare.
But I am fortunate that my looking forward to being reunited to him at the end of each day outweighs the knowledge of unrelenting, tedious routine. During my drive to the preschool, I turn off my radio and remind myself that I planned a pregnancy, but that he didn’t ask to be born. I make certain to acknowledge that this is a phase and that toddlers need routine in order to feel secure. I remind myself that I searched for a movie that he would love, and how I had hoped that he’d develop as insatiable an appetite for books and knowledge as both his father and I have had during our lives.
I’m no supermom. I detest going on walks to the park or playing in the backyard. Toy noises annoy the hell out of me. My son wants to play outside when I get him home, but I tell him that he will get to play outside tomorrow at school, and that it is getting dark outside and that it is time for food. On weekends, my husband takes him outside, sometimes for 3 hours, even in the worst of Florida summer heat and humidity.
If I tell my son that “*Toy’s loud * frown” he knows that he can either take the toy to his room, where he is free to make as much noise as he wishes, or choose a quieter, similar toy to play with in the common room. He usually opts for saying “*Sorry, Mama,” * then pats me on the head, hugs or kisses me, and reduces his noise, or gets a quieter toy.
(For the record, we have 12’ ceilings and hardwood floors. Some toy cars makes HORRID noises in those conditions.)
Too many women these days seem to have children because it is the only thing left to do after getting a career, becoming a trophy wife, and buying a house they can barely afford. Breeding isn’t another thing to add to a list of accomplishments. The world is plenty populated these days. We don’t need extra hands for the family farm nor do we need cannon fodder for wars.
People hound me constantly about having another child. Personally, I don’t think that I currently have the resources (financial nor emotional) to have another, and am not willing to do so. As long as I feel that I could offer more patience, attention, and compassion that I currently provide to my son, why should I compound the situation.
The woman in the article is a bitch. I hope that it is an exaggeration or spoof, but unfortunately, I believe it. I remember my aunt lamenting that she was tired of nursing her kids, and that she wanted time for “adult conversation.” It’s okay to miss adult company, but to resent your kids over that loss is simple incomprehensible to me.
Sorry this is so long, I could type for hours about this.