I generally get weird looks from people when I subject them to stories regarding my dogs.... I tell them what funny thing they did during dinner, how well they behaved on a long car ride or what sweet thing they did to get me out of bed to start the day. Normally I am met with questions like, "You took your dogs to the bike store and they let them in? Your dogs sleep on your bed?" Don't these people realized that I look at them the same way when I have to listen to their ridiculous stories about their children???????
Polly Perfect Parent says, "Skilor and Ohwen (notice the unique spelling...how are they ever going to find a keychain with their name on it at The Happiest Place on Earth?) are both taking Spanish classes from a tutor. They are doing so well that they are able to communicate with Consuela (the housekeeper) to prepare their afternoon snacks" I am sure that Consuela is just loving the fact that these six year old twins are giving her orders....
"Oh, and Kelan our 9 month old has just starting an infant self actualization class" Now, I was under the impression that little boys were quite capable of self actualization without the need to be taught. Has anyone ever given a bath to a little boy that has just discovered his own one-eyed snake???
So on and on these stories go. Society tells me that I should not be annoyed, that these are stories about the future leaders of our country, that it is against nature that as a woman, I am not the least bit interested in hearing about any of this. Although these stories are sweet, funny and at times, annoying....we are forgetting the next step in the evolutionary process....adolescence.
The other stories I hear about children are not told but rather overheard, no more boasting from Polly Perfect Parent anymore..... When I first started my office job, I would hear women all around me conducting small battles in their cubicles with their children over the phone. "No, you cannot go to the mall. Because I said so. I don't even know this Myles. Have I met his parents? We have had this discussion before and if I come home and your friends are hanging out and your homework isn't being done, you are grounded again. Well, you can hate me if you want, but when you live under my roof, you live by my rules. That's right, and when you're eighteen you can move out, support yourself and do whatever you want, but you have two more years to go and you can live them tough or you can live them right. It is totally up to you. I am not going to discuss this anymore. I am at work and I don't have time for this. "
Where were all those sweet stories? They were few and far between. Now I heard how many different counselors they had dragged their children to see. How they had to go to two parent/teacher conferences within the last month, etc etc. Again, I listen, but now I feel an internal smirk. You see, my children, my dogs, have never caused this kind of stress in my life. They love me no matter how I look, what I am wearing, how poor or rich I am, or how much or how little time I spend with them. They never hold it against me when I scold them. They never talk back, call me at inappropriate times or make me cry. Actually, I can cry buckets around them and they will just cuddle a little closer, a little tighter and lick my tears off of my face. I am completely in love with them because they give so much more than they take. Please don't think I am some kind of child hater. I am not. I am however, not buying into the fact that I have to love children and the idea of children just because society says that I should. So, in a world where I must tolerate people's choices to have children, I would really like the same in return. In this perfect, tolerant world, the next time I adopt a dog, I will have friends and family throw me a puppy shower. It seems perfectly fair to me.