A few days ago, much earlier than I enjoy, I got up with the babies to give Megan a break as I sometimes do. I really woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, probably because we stayed at Thorstens late the night before hanging out with our German pal, and am not particularly thrilled to change the poopy diaper and then be dragged into the kitchen. Michaelle brings me book after book so the three of us sit on the kitchen floor and read. You know how hit and miss children’s books are. Some of them I kind of get into and other ones make me groan; sometimes I change the words or entire plots because I can’t believe how stupid they are. It doesn’t really matter, the kids can’t understand 98% of what I’m saying anyway since these books are in English. A lot of times I’ll just point out at cow or a baby on a page and then every time they see it on subsequent pages, they point and yell, “COW! (or CA! according to Gabriel), and, “BEBE!” I’m really proud of the way they’ve taken to reading though and how eager they are to learn… even if I am really annoyed at the fact that I’m sitting on the kitchen floor instead of laying down.
Soon I fear that if I read one more of these books about cows and babies, my eyes are going to pop out. I whip them up a delicious and nutritious breakfast of either corn flakes and powdered milk or oatmeal, I don’t remember which, and we sit down on the floor and eat (we don’t have our dining furniture built yet at this point, or much of any furniture at all really). Then we go have some playtime. I develop a nice headache as the kids pull on my legs, run around, and pull all the toys off of the shelf, making a giagantic mess that someone is going to have to pick up later. As I sit there and watch all of this, I am overcome thinking about parenthood.
I know I’m only 21 years old and I shouldn’t hit the panic button, but oh my gosh, I don’t know if this is really something I ever want to do. To be a parent is a sacrifice of the most epic proportions!! It is to stop what you’re doing at 8 every single night, so that you can start the bedtime routine with two kids that don’t like to go to bed, especially the 2 year old who REALLY hates bedtime. And then parenting is waking up at 7 (and at several points in between on some nights), or whenever Gabrielle makes his poopy diaper, to the smell of a hot mess. Its cleaning up the same mess of little plastic trinkets, colors, flashcards, food, etc. that is made everyday. You can’t just get up and go anywhere you want to. And while I’m in my bad mood, this feels like prison. Just because you’re in a bad mood, or have a headache, or would rather be in bed or – maybe should I attempt this again later in life- want to go out with your husband, or friends, or whatever, you are still a parent and that comes first. Its like there is no you anymore. I know I sound like a selfish whiney baby (and I am still 21 after all), but its true, and I know there are a lot of people out there who go into this whole baby-having thing without knowing that it is this way (see Casey Anthony). So yea, I will not be having children for a LONG time (…if ever).
A little bit later in the morning, everyone is up and having there breakfast. Megan and I are sitting at her desk drinking coffee and planning some thing or another when the phone rings. Her face changes, goes white, and I know something is wrong. I don’t remember everything that happened because it went really fast but there’s been an emergency and she is flying out the door with Gabrielle. I stay at home with Michaelle, not knowing what is going on.
Then I am reminded why parents sign up for the miseries of parenting and go about them dutifully: because they LOVE their children. Our kids (mostly Megan’s kids, but mine too in some small way, definitely in my heart) are so beautiful. Seeing them laugh and play and goof off is so worth picking up the trail of destruction they leave behind. Some of my most treasured moment here in Haiti are the dance parties Megan and I have with the kids in the living room. We put on music and dance all-out and have the best time. I get SO excited when Michaelle learns new English words, gets her numbers right, or learns a new color (we’re really struggling with pink right now). Gabrielle has really come out of his shell lately and has started playing all kinds of pretend games, like when he crawls around making this really gnarly face and growls at everyone until we poke him and he erupts into a fit of giggles. I LOVE these kids.
When Megan and Gabrielle walk through the door later that afternoon, my heart turns a happy flip in my chest. I love her and these kids and I’m happy to do everything I can for them. I know this is only a small taste of what it means to be a parent; I won't be here for much long and real parenting is a life sentence. You actual parents are probably laughing at me and saying, "If you only knew..." But I am so thankful for having them in my life.
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