Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Maternal Instinct...

confuses the ever loving crap out of me. Is there really this magical instinct that kicks in whenever someone in possession of a uterus encounters an infant? If so, mine was broken long ago. After the birth of the nerd, I felt no real desire to cuddle and coo over her. All I wanted was a good nap and a drink. The first few times someone called me mommy made the idea of throwing something float through my overly drugged mind. I couldn't figure out who they were talking to and frankly, I wasn't in a good head space to be listening to overly cheerful medical personnel talk to me like that.

I still don't really like other people's children right off the bat. Of course there are exceptions to the rule, but overall? Children are annoying, tweens are obnoxious and teenagers should be locked in a trunk until they are old enough to get a job and move out. Conversely, I am frequently told that children love me. Possibly because I treat them like they have a brain and expect them to function as such. My decision to go into teaching is generally looked at funnily, and I can see why. I think I'll be the kind of teacher that students like and slackers despise and, you know, I'm OK with that. I want to be the kind of teacher that makes kids feel like they *should* do their best rather than just the bare minimum to get by.

After a few years of the joys of parenting, I kind of get the whole "toughest job you'll ever love" pap, but the expectation that there is some kind of magical knowledge of how to be good at interacting with smelly, drooly, poorly coordinated little humans that automatically comes with being a woman as surely as cramps and bloating makes me scoff just a *wee* bit.

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