086. I am afraid of children.


This is a fact. I can handle them for a limited period of time, before all my anti-social tendencies engulf any and all temptation to chill with chitlins. I hear my four-year-old cousin cry, and I retreat. I will freely admit! I am a wimp. I can handle pouting. I can handle sulking. I can handle giddiness and some screaming. I can not handle being in sole responsibility of a child for a long period of time, nor can I candle a crying child when they’re being comforted by family.

My parents frequently leave. It’s a fact. I live with my dad, which typically means it’s two people in a big, empty house, a house that used to hold two rowdy daughters, a dog, a cat, and two parents. It was never quiet- there were neighbors and friends and parent’s friends sipping at beer and cheese, or shooting pool in the basement. I have gotten used to the silence.

I have gone long periods of time where it’s just me and the dog. Dad’s in Mexico, mom’s off at a spinning conference or sommat. I am alone. You know what I love? That silence. It can be lonely, but sometimes the loneliest I ever feel is when I’m with people. I have been left alone, with only occasional phonecalls, for two weeks.

It’s possibly why I am sulking.

I love my family, don’t get me wrong. I love the vast clan of my dad being one of twelve, my mother one of nine. It’s always fun. But just for freakin’ visits. When the parents can entertain and I can shuffle off to my room if I am unable to cope with all the noise. I am good company for a limited time only. I respond badly to being treated… unfairly? Being treated childishly. If you are willing to give me so much power over things, don’t take it away in a blink! I do NOT need a babysitter, as I have proved distinctly MULTIPLE times!

My extended family has this beatific view of me because they don’t see me that often. They see me as the daughter o the prosperous son, cheerful and witty, able to play with the little cousins in the dirt and have intense music discussions with the uncles. I can be these things, sometimes. I also am the recluse who lives in her room, if anyone else is in the house. (When no one else is here, I lurk downstairs and chill with my dog on the sofa)

So. Here I am, in my room. Avoiding my aunt because I am sick of being the entertainer. I want to be in a group of friends, not a guest situation mingled with a childlike blech. I love her. I love my four year old cousin. Couldn’t someone else deal with them? I feel awkward. I am not a host! Yet I feel that pressing need to entertain them. I do it for as long as I can take, but as much fun as treasure maps and caterpillars are, I want to nap, clean my room, go online.

It’s so far away and I know you’ll have a blast, but I miss you already. Because we don’t spend much time together, and every moment lingers while it flies by, and nothing is certain and I want you happy. I want to send you letters and call, but mostly I want you right here. But that’s not what will happen, and I want you to escape and see the world. But a thirty hour drive, two thousand miles, this scares me. I’m sorry to be such a freaking wart.

Twenty-four days. It will be at once too short, too long. Too short- I can’t see you. Too long- my freedom from the sinking mentality, into the soaring.

Being held hostage by a four-year-old is both frustrating and funny. Not to mention, destructive to my grammatical structure.

Edit: In other news, Sergei Rachmaninoff makes absolutely everything better. I don’t understand why I haven’t really paid any attention to him before. This is being rectified.


3 Responses to “086. I am afraid of children.”

  1. 1 Leah

    Sergei Rachmaninoff is a hero.

    I love you.

  2. 2 katling

    The problem is that being the entertainer can take a heck of a lot out of you, and it’s hard to keep the mask up over time, especially if you see the people regularly; plus, loving someone doesn’t mean you have to like ’em all the time. It’s not avoidance, it’s recharging. :)

    Still, there’s always that feeling that you’re doing something wrong by going and taking a nap some days. *ponders*

  3. 3 vividaudio

    I can’t get over how much I love you.

    I could never do what you do…I freak out if my mother is gone for half a day. I wish I had the capacity to be alone without being scared. It will be one of the hardest things I have to deal with in years to come, and I wish that I had it nailed down like you.

    Gosh. Maybe if my parents traveled a lot when I was younger I would have been less anxious….

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: