If you're reading this, yay! It means you've made it in one piece to this developmental stage. I didn't drop you on your head, accidentally poison you, or sell you to the boogeyman...at least not yet.
I'm writing this to you as a 23-year old overgrown child who has long been wrestling with the concept of parenting. No offense, but I never really liked or wanted kids. But just in case some powerful otherworldly force possesses me to carry a zygote (or two...or three) to term, I feel compelled to warn you, my (hopefully adorable) future kidlet(s), about a few very important things. This is my mommy disclaimer. My hope is that it will help you meet all the twists and turns of our relationship and other inescapable courses of parent-child fate with the open mind and open heart you'll need if you want to stay sane. Especially if you're anything like me....which to some degree you will be.
Without a doubt, at times...
- I will hurt you. And disappoint you. When I drop the ball on you, you will feel jaded, lonely, or forlorn (or all three).
- I will be terrible at expressing my unconditional love and affection for you -- sometimes when you need it most.
- I will use and abuse the "I'm the adult" card and forget to listen.
- I will make you wonder if you're really living for yourself or if you're just living for me.
- I will underestimate you. I will overestimate you....all the while missing the point to stop estimating you at all and instead smother you with love and awe.
- I will make you cry - in front of me, behind my back, and maybe even in public. Even worse, I will berate you for crying, when I should be hugging you tight.
- I will forget how young you are. I will forget how old you are.
- I will have unreasonable expectations of you, and will thus douse you with a slew of unwarranted social comparisons.
- I will embarrass you.
- I will never be good enough, yet I will sometimes treat you like you're the one who will never be good enough.
- I will contradict myself. Better yet, I may not even make any sense.
- I will give you a hard time for not being independent, but at the same time I will not want to let go.
- I will be retributive with my anger towards your mistakes, instead of purposive.
- I will clamor to shower you with gifts when I feel especially guilty (probably about something on this list).
- I will be so busy making sure your tummy is fed that I will forget to ensure that your soul is being nourished.
- I will, one day, stop being the all-knowing adult figure you needed. You will realize I am no longer leading the way -- we are now walking alongside each other.
- I will never quench your thirst for mothering (maybe even fathering, if you're especially unlucky).
With that said, it only logically follows that:
Anything good I do, anything I get right...will have been orchestrated by the pure grace and mercy of a God.
I refuse to take credit for it. Because I am not a perfect person, nor will I ever be. Though I will undoubtedly be bursting at the seams with love and good intentions for you, it doesn't erase the fact that I am a broken human being. We all are. I will try my very best to give you an amazing life and help you soar. But please don't ever for a second fall into the trap of idealistic modern family constructs and think that I will be the perfect provider. More importantly, don't ever fall into the trap of thinking that you yourself could be perfect. And I say this with the wisdom of experience: God is the only perfect mother and father, so lean on Him. I will help you, because it's what I do also. And just like that, in imperfect harmony, I hope we can go forth creating beautiful, fruitful, and meaningful lives.
So yea. Perchance I make the bold/senseless/irreversible decision to have kids, this is what I'd want you to know.
With love,
Your crazy mom
p.s. I really hope I got to have my way and that your name is Soren. Or Egypt. Or Emery. Or Cyan. Or Krav. If not, please look away as I go strangle your father for taking away my lifelong dream.
p.p.s. Seriously, make your bed.
