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Adults are sane until they decide to have children.
Random quote proclaimed awhile ago, while, in the midst of a hectic deadline, what with grace doing her routine flakey number, miguel and ricxel decide to have a philosophical debate on age. And how it seems to them, it is all a matter of perspective. It's such an easy conclusion to make coming from an eleven and nine-year-old POV. but sometimes, i do seriously question my need to have offspring. if that weren't merely vanity or a security measure, or if it wasn't just a false understanding of motherhood. but if you have a job that lets you deal with kids exclusively on a daily basis---regular one-hour doses may be enough to drive you insane. they have this ingratiating way of squeezing themselves into a conversation, albeit innocently. or asking the most difficult questions to answer. or being brutally honest to the point of embarassment. things that they will eventually unlearn, but are for the meantime precisely the things you can't stand. or the way they have so much extra energy, just watching them bounce of the walls, you wonder if all that force couldn't somehow be harnessed and channeled and be enough to power a small 15-family provincial town.
case in point.
patricki couldn't find a better example of what i don't want my kids to be. this little kid runs around the halls like his hair is on fire and the only way to put it out is to tell everyone about it, including the cat. he suddenly pops out of nowhere, steals my food, jumps on benches and squeezes into the smallest spaces and just plain annoys me. shit. the kid is a regular devil in disguise, but who can argue with him when he bats his eyes at you and gives you a gap-toothed grin? (ever seen Shrek 2? know a cat named Puss? yeah, you know what i mean...)
they're so much better when they're a year or two only. when all the harm they can do is leave a trail of dribble down your best shirt or shit in their pants, in which case, disposable pants present a handy solution. i have no problems waking up in the middle of the night (seeing as i don't get much sleep in the first place) or making baby food (big fan, i eat some whenever i can). when their whole world revolves around you. and they grip your fingers so tight it'll make you cry knowing that someone needs you more than you need to commit suicide.
two to five ain't bad either. so's six to nine. but inevitably you lose them somewhere along the way, and by eleven or twelve, you wonder what kind of monsters you've been raising the whole time.
i never realized kids could be so mean. and it breaks my heart to think that you'll only have 5 or 6 purely good years max, and the rest would be an uphill struggle for power and territory. i tell you, it's all psychological warfare. and i hate losing good kids to mtv, or grand theft auto, or coolness or gangsta rap. i hate losing them to an ill-conceived notion of goodness or reality or need.
awhile ago i got mad at jandro. all the blood rushed to my face and i felt my cheeks heat up. i had to lower my voice to avoid saying really mean things too. and i had my hands balled into fists. i got so mad. i got mad at him because he doesn't care. and how do you make them care? how can i care if he doesn't? it's so frustrating, but there's always one in every batch, or every class if you want the proportions to be correct.
he is my current heartache.
Random quote proclaimed awhile ago, while, in the midst of a hectic deadline, what with grace doing her routine flakey number, miguel and ricxel decide to have a philosophical debate on age. And how it seems to them, it is all a matter of perspective. It's such an easy conclusion to make coming from an eleven and nine-year-old POV. but sometimes, i do seriously question my need to have offspring. if that weren't merely vanity or a security measure, or if it wasn't just a false understanding of motherhood. but if you have a job that lets you deal with kids exclusively on a daily basis---regular one-hour doses may be enough to drive you insane. they have this ingratiating way of squeezing themselves into a conversation, albeit innocently. or asking the most difficult questions to answer. or being brutally honest to the point of embarassment. things that they will eventually unlearn, but are for the meantime precisely the things you can't stand. or the way they have so much extra energy, just watching them bounce of the walls, you wonder if all that force couldn't somehow be harnessed and channeled and be enough to power a small 15-family provincial town.
case in point.
patricki couldn't find a better example of what i don't want my kids to be. this little kid runs around the halls like his hair is on fire and the only way to put it out is to tell everyone about it, including the cat. he suddenly pops out of nowhere, steals my food, jumps on benches and squeezes into the smallest spaces and just plain annoys me. shit. the kid is a regular devil in disguise, but who can argue with him when he bats his eyes at you and gives you a gap-toothed grin? (ever seen Shrek 2? know a cat named Puss? yeah, you know what i mean...)
they're so much better when they're a year or two only. when all the harm they can do is leave a trail of dribble down your best shirt or shit in their pants, in which case, disposable pants present a handy solution. i have no problems waking up in the middle of the night (seeing as i don't get much sleep in the first place) or making baby food (big fan, i eat some whenever i can). when their whole world revolves around you. and they grip your fingers so tight it'll make you cry knowing that someone needs you more than you need to commit suicide.
two to five ain't bad either. so's six to nine. but inevitably you lose them somewhere along the way, and by eleven or twelve, you wonder what kind of monsters you've been raising the whole time.
i never realized kids could be so mean. and it breaks my heart to think that you'll only have 5 or 6 purely good years max, and the rest would be an uphill struggle for power and territory. i tell you, it's all psychological warfare. and i hate losing good kids to mtv, or grand theft auto, or coolness or gangsta rap. i hate losing them to an ill-conceived notion of goodness or reality or need.
awhile ago i got mad at jandro. all the blood rushed to my face and i felt my cheeks heat up. i had to lower my voice to avoid saying really mean things too. and i had my hands balled into fists. i got so mad. i got mad at him because he doesn't care. and how do you make them care? how can i care if he doesn't? it's so frustrating, but there's always one in every batch, or every class if you want the proportions to be correct.
he is my current heartache.
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