I used to lump children (except the cuties I'm related to, of course) into the category of things that mildly annoy me on good days and downright terrify my on bad ones. My years working in a restaurant did not do much to change this viewpoint. For some reason, many people think that dining in a restaurant gives them license to allow their children to do WHATEVER they feel like, leaving ginormous messes and behaving in ways that would embarrass even the most ill-mannered of Huns. In truth, the blame lies not with the children but with the parents, so my distaste was misplaced. (That rhymes, ha!) That didn't make me like them any more, though, just because their keepers fell down on the job. And I certainly didn't want to invite one into my home. There was actually a very long time in my life where I did not think I would ever want to have kids of my own. The fact that I am now a parent is a testament to the wonderfulness of my husband.
Now with 10 months of mommyhood under my belt, I find myself smiling at small children, and their parents, in stores, libraries, parks, airports, etc with alarming regularity. Not only that, but voluntarily starting conversations with them. Children, as a rule, are not cuter or better mannered than they were before. Therefore, all I can figure is that the months of sleep deprivation have finally caught up with me and unexpectedly turned me into a completely new person.
The really amazing thing is that this doesn't bother me. I had pretty much resigned myself to being the mean old lady on the block who yelled at kids for walking through my yard, talking too loud or any of the other harmless offenses they might commit. I already had two cats, which is the international first step for crazy old ladyness. And when I finally committed myself to having children, I definitely didn't want to be the hyper-dedicated mom who always goes too far with treats and costumes and parties and other manifestations of the job. Yet, I'm the kook that asked for a sewing machine for Christmas so I could make clothes for my daughter. Who is this person that has taken over my body?
But I love their little faces with their big eyes and chubby cheeks. Their little rosebud lips and button noses. The cute little things they say and do. And! Oh. My. Gawd. When they laugh? I just about turn into a twitching puddle of goo. It's almost too much.
My name is Cara and I am addicted to babies. For the record, I am NOT addicted to having babies. I am perfectly happy with just my own little one, for now, and visiting with other people's.