I Don’t Actually Like Kids

I love my kids, and perhaps more importantly, I really like who they are. They’re smart and funny, they’re generous and athletic. When Alexander tells me about his day I sometimes wonder how we exist on the same planet. His frame of reference is very different than mine. I love that my son gives me a different view of the world.

I genuinely enjoy my children’s friends. I love nothing more than to hold my friend’s babies and then to watch them grow. When we drive carpool I’m excited to hear from Jane and Alexander’s friends about their days. I like the people I like.

I just don’t think stranger babies are cute. I don’t like toddlers and sassy preschoolers are nothing but sticky germy people who need to grow taller and learn to wipe their asses properly.

I used to think I was a bad person for not enjoying little kids. I used to want to look at a newborn baby and think Ooh he’s precious. But I’m learning to accept that unless it’s the newborn of someone I care for, I’ll look at the baby and think that it looks a little like ET.

I can’t possibly be the only mother that doesn’t love all kids. Please tell me that someone else feels this way too.


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