Becoming the best parent noone ever had.

It's Sunday. I find myself giving the bedroom a good once-over with the Electrolux Diamond Jubilee vacuum saved from a pawn shop about 200 years ago when the phone rings. Being the optimist I am, I figure Ed McMahon is calling to let me know I am the next big winner... Well, not really. I was pretty clueless as to who wanted what at this point, but I figured it couldn't be any worse than having to choose between HBO or Showtime kid features, which seem to be the only things they will show on a Sunday morning.

Fifteen minutes later, I find myself heading into Pleasant Grove to pick up my cousin, Angela. She has had her share of outs in life, and she keeps coming up to bat, which is fairly admirable, but I truly wish she would practice her swing before standing at the plate. Regardless, if she is going to get custody of her oldest child, she has to attend a parenting class... and since there is no other way for her to get back home, I find that I have to attend this class as well.

Not that I have anything against kids. Heaven knows I love them as much if not more than they love me, but I am not a parent, nor do I think it will happen in my lifetime.

This comes from two elements in my life. First, the fact that I am not anyone's idea of physical perfection, and since cloning is not a viable option, I have no outlet for production of children.

Secondly, I might be able to adopt, but I am not in the best position to guarantee that my lease on life will not expire soon. I would hate to be responsible for a child and wind up leaving this planet without someone to take care of them. I couldn't put a child through that kind of emotional torture.

Still, I sat there listening to the latest theories on child psychology and how children should be handled and I couldn't help but wonder how my life would have been different if I had been handled the same way as a child. Somehow, I can't shake the feeling that I would have missed out on a lot of the creativity with which I was blessed. Still, the pseudo-nirvana existence does have it's upside. Depression, loneliness, and co-dependency would pretty much be a thing of the past.

One thing that I did notice, though, was that without the benefit of this class, I was approaching children in much the same way that the class recommends. I can't help but think that the abuse I sufferred as a child probably helped me reject those ways of parenting and cling to the methods my mother used, which were apparently ahead of their time. Of course, that also means I have an inner maternal instinct, which, as a guy, is kind of a funny feeling to have to deal with.

As it stands, I have attended a parenting class, and left feeling fairly good about life. Let's ride this wave out and see what happens.

Return to the round table.
Back to the shell.

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page