“Have another one”, they say. “You can’t have an only child; she’ll grow up spoiled, lonely, desperate for attention, unable to commit to a relationship”. Seriously? So that must be what’s wrong with this generation! You’ve figured it out! We’re the millennials of only children! So exactly why are you here telling me this when you could sell your ideas and make millions? Oh, that’s right, because you’re WRONG!
“Have another one”, they say. “You can’t have an only child; she’ll grow up spoiled, lonely, desperate for attention, unable to commit to a relationship”. Seriously? So that must be what’s wrong with this generation! You’ve figured it out! We’re the millennials of only children! So exactly why are you here telling me this when you could sell your ideas and make millions? Oh, that’s right, because you’re WRONG!
When you’re standing in the grocery store aisle choosing pasta sauce with the least amount of sugar and the most servings of vegetables, that’s when they get you. Bam! A well-meaning do-gooder of countless children and 40 years of memories sneaks up on you with their opinions, ideas, and advice to populate like rabbits… Okay, maybe I’m getting carried away here but, it makes you feel cornered and half afraid for your life. You should probably send that text to your spouse saying you will be late tonight because right now, you’re stuck listening to the stories of “when my kids were your age they each already had 3 babies!” Listen, ma’am, that’s great and all but I really just want to get home and put on my pajamas and make garlic bread for my now-starving only young daughter. Instead, I’m being held up while pretending to study boxes of rotini and penne pasta all but begging you to leave me alone. If it’s so rude to walk away while someone (an elder, no less) is talking, then consider me fired from society. I. Have. To. Go.
My daughter will not grow up entitled. I will teach her manners. I will encourage her to be self-sufficient. No, she’ll only live with me until she’s 25. Ok, fine, 26. Yes, she has a bedtime and yes, she eats a balanced meal at least twice a day. She plays well with others and can sweetly say please and thank you. I can’t be doing too bad at this mom gig if occasionally she even instigates brushing her own teeth. I’m killing it over here and a complete stranger is worried about the status of my potentially failing ovaries. Let’s not even get into how Random-Grocery-Store-Lady thought it was appropriate to ask if I felt I could still produce milk because, God forbid, my lactation abilities are to blame as to why I don’t have a second bun in the oven. Go. Away.
Sure, I entertain the idea of a newborn baby. A little man for his big sister to watch over and protect. A male human to balance out the estrogen in our home. Or a baby sister for my little munchkin. Someone she can play with and share the same room. As long as it’s a healthy baby, the sex of said fictional child wouldn’t matter. Thank you for the points of concern, the unsolicited remarks regarding my toddler’s mental ability to process growing up without any siblings, or the disregard for her relationship with her cousins. Fortunately, right now, I’m doing just fine with a single child. I’m devoted, (mostly) calm, patient, and enjoy this life without the stress it would be to have two children flooding my bathroom each night.
For the mamas with multiple children, good on you for making it look simple! I’m positive it’s an orchestrated zoo of snails and feral cats. If you need help, call me; I’ll be glad to be the fun aunt who plays all day then sends them home. Because of you, maybe one day I’ll consider planting another flower in my garden of motherhood. But it’s not today. Certainly not in this grocery store!
