I never wanted to be a parent. I was afraid. I didn’t want to be responsible for the outcome of another person. Albeit someone obviously did it for me but parenting is a choice and I had long chosen not to do it. What if I did it wrong? What if I raised a maniac? Serial killer? Momma’s Boy? Harlot? What if I ruined a perfectly good human being? NOTE THE USE OF “I”. I had apparently assumed that parenting was a one person job. Nevermind the fact that it takes the addition of another—and in my case a male human, to achieve such a feat. This was the imminent flaw in my thought process. I had already resolved to being a single parent. Im my youthful infiniate wisdom—I was a teenager when I coined my NO PARENTING destiny, I completely overlooked the fact that I may have partnered with the likes of a very well arranged man that would make a great father and in turn could teach me how to lose the No No Attitude.
Along with this flaw, I never considered the parenting I had received to be a tool in helping me with my own parenting. I didn’t phanthom my own parents being of assistance. I didn’t include my friends or relatives either. I was convinced…and lets be honest. Ive never seen a newborn fall out of the uterus with a scroll of instructions attached. As far as Im concerned…my decision was valid…even if flawed.
Fast forward…no really! Fast Forward Neck Break speed. Two nephews and a slew of offspring of dates, family, friends, and acquaintances. I now have acquired an 8 year old daughter. Yup! Me. The Circa first paragraph anti-parent. A mom. The mom of a fatherless yet surprisingly happy 8 year old. Minus the gruesome details I am now the mother of my maternal niece. My sister gave motherhood her best shot. At least I hope it was her best shot—I’d be pissed to know she never tried at all.
Still. Here I am. Here we are. One of my biggest fears faces me every morning. My biggest fear is beautiful, bright eyed, almost always happy, and extremely optimistic. Healthy…for the most part. Especially having been born from a drug addict.
My biggest fear is less than half my size, owns no weapons, doesn’t drive, has no fangs, and isn’t dark and creepy. My biggest fear is indirectly demanding…my biggest fear is dyslexic. My biggest fear eats just as much as me, requires more than I can possibly give yet I haven’t the guts to walk away from it all….rewind circa paragraph one …bluntly…this isn’t my kid. I DONT HAVE TO DO THIS. It really is a choice. I can let “the system”handle this mess. I could go on with my life according to plan. No kids. Unwed. -Though not alone. A lady always keeps a stallion in the stable.- but with much less complication than the current.
Unfortunately I was raise by a mother with 14 brothers and sisters. All of which depended on one another. THERE WERE FIFTEEN OF THEM. SAME MOM AND DAD. 15. Therefore I was inbred to care. Manufactures flaw. Lol
On the anchor leg of life’s relay I’m raising an 8 year old girl. That will soon be my daughter–legally when the state makes its unnecessary assessment. I will be her legal mother. She knows the difference. I’ve never wanted to exclude the truth from her. I love her dearly. She makes me a better person. She challenges my self governing and forces my patience. She magnetically draws on my maturity yet she forces me to be youthful. Things that I would likely steer clear of…I confront with her.