As a child, I was an unabashed tomboy. I didn’t want to play dolls or dressup. I had no interest in babies and I certainly didn’t want to grow up and be a Mommy, which was one of the three choices I had, the other two being Teacher and Secretary. Then I turned 22 and the alarm went off on my biological clock. All the sudden I wanted babies and I wanted them NOW!
I suspect my Mom never wanted to be a mommy either. I’ll never forget what she said when I called to tell her I was pregnant with her first grandchild. “Just don’t expect me to babysit!” Which was strange as she was living in Kansas and I was in North Carolina. But then she never liked my husband. It was something we could agree upon later.
I picked a man with good genetics who turned out to be nothing but a mooch. I jettisoned him right after my second boy was born and never looked back. But I shouldn’t be too harsh. I did get two very healthy, smart sons out of him. (Maybe someday he’ll show the slightest bit of interest in them.) So, in the end, I felt compelled to reproduce. And it’s a good thing.
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