Last night, as I was drifting off to sleep, I found myself thinking about children. Specifically, the kids that I hung out with everyday at before and after school care last year. Lord almighty, those kids were enough to drive the Pope to drink every last drop of communion wine. From "sex scandals", to bullying, to bald-faced lies, to snotty pre-teen attitude, there were days when I would come home from work completely and utterly convinced that I would never, ever have kids of my own.
But there were also moments when a five year old suddenly realized that she could sound out the letter c-a-t to make a word. And when a frustrated boy somewhere on the autism-spectrum would sit down and manage to make some beautiful music between the squawking of his cello. Or when a ten year old who'd had a bad day just needed a hug and a good cry into your shoulder. Best of all, when the two boys who'd never got along without name-calling or shoving would play basketball or football together with no discord at all.
I miss those moments. Those constant reminders of so many parts of my childhood I'd completely forgotten about. The joy of sitting on top of the jungle gym to better survey the playground. Being so certain that a new pair of shoes would give my feet wings so that I could win relay races. Even the sullen tweeners reminded me of my former self and I remembered how hard it really was to survive being 12.
Babies have definitely been on the forefront of my mind lately, and sometimes I wonder if I want a baby like I want a third puppy. As in, it sounds like such a fun idea until you think about all of the work that goes into it. And then, if I want a baby, do I actually want a child? Am I ready to deal with the terrible two's and the transition to kindergarten, the awfulness of a household with a teenager residing within. After the angelic little cherub cheeks, do I really want the reality of being a parent?
I still don't have an answer to that, and maybe I never will until I face all of those milestones down the road. But I do know that I miss those kids in a way that gives me a sort of empty feeling in a small quadrant of my being and where ever they go in life, I hope that in some small way they remember those hours we spent before and after school with some sense of fondness.
