The thing that makes it really awkward for me is that I volunteer heavily with the Girl Scouts. Mostly on the business end, but I am involved in (and passionate about) the program for teenage girls. I mentor a 16 year old.
It comes up in two very awkward ways:
I get asked to volunteer with the young kids. I have had to say, “No, I’m sorry, I dislike small children, especially in large groups.” Not a good reaction.
Then people ask me, “Oh, so do you plan to adopt an older child?” Or they joke, “Ha ha, your kid will just have to stay in the womb until age 7!” As if it’s just assumed I’ll have kids. So I say, “No, I’m not really interested in having my own kids.” And then I’m Cruella DeVille, making coats out of baby skin, or something.
Babies are okay, but they’re boring as hell. Just met my best friend’s four month old. Honestly, one of the cutest babies I’ve ever seen. But she’s fun for maybe 15 minutes. Every two hours is the cycle of “feed, change diaper, babble at baby.” I’d shoot myself in the head. It’s not remotely interesting. The worst part is knowing that you have to talk to the baby and interact with it for mental development, but the interaction is so friggin’ puerile.
Fortunately, most of my baby-having friends are cool. Best friend, her husband, and I make really dark remarks about babies. Like this:
“Ugh, child proofing. When she gets to crawling age, I think I’ll just hobble her instead.”
“The sounds she makes sound like a dolphin. We should take her on one of those dolphin-watching cruises and toss her overboard, to see if the dolphins accept her as one of their own.”
“This baby is really a bipolar, ADHD little asshole, isn’t she? Let’s put lithium in her bottle.”
Still, it’s not like making jokes really alleviates the drudgery. Or the sleep deprivation.