We Thought We’d Call Him Sonny

On Friday, we met up with some of my high school friends. One was particularly keen to show off her new baby, born in January. I was aware that another friend would join us, accompanied by her three-year-old, but I didn’t know that a third friend would be there, 20-month-old twins in tow. We walked into Olive Garden and were greeted by a day care center.

All in all, the lunch hour was cute. As I’ve noted in the past, IP is great with kids and had no problem sitting next to one of the twins (the mischievous one, to boot). When pointing out the various items on the Olive Garden menu, he pointed to the fried ravioli and gave his learned opinion as a Sicilian to the little girl: “I don’t think that’d be very good.” He pointed out that her chicken fingers were much more delicious than his boring salad, offered her a sippy cup when needed, and read to her from alphabet books that had been brought along. I think my friend appreciated the help; two kids for the price of one would be extremely overwhelming. Both IP and I found ourselves thanking the fact that twins do not run in our families.

I got to sit next to the three-year-old who, as IP put it, “has a bit of a mean streak to him.” I endured slaps, punches and a near-miss with hair-pulling; the kid also lunged for my tank top, trying to drag down my strap. “No, kiddo—that’s IP’s job,” I said. His mother laughed at my joke as the kid grinned and lunged for the strap again. She tried to control him, but I have a feeling he gets away with a lot at home with the encouragement of his assy Daddy.  Escape came in the form of the baby, whose mother asked if I wanted to hold her. I hadn’t held a baby in so long—it was a bit unfamiliar at this point, but she was a small kid and didn’t cry when he mother handed her over. The baby was teething, so everything went into her mouth; it was extremely funny to see her gnawing on everything from her mother’s fingers to her high chair.

It was odd to see my friends with their kids; just earlier that morning, I had shown IP a picture of myself with the majority of them, graduating from high school 11 years ago. That so many little new lives sprung from them in that time frame seems impossible to me—yet, there the kids were. While seeing the kids might’ve made my womb leap with jealousy two years ago, my main thought throughout the meal was not to forget to take my birth control pill ever. Kids are a possibility in my life; IP and I have been discussing the whole posterity thing seriously, with discussions on finances, religion, discipline and education factoring into every discussion (it’s just not, aw, IP and WordNerd Juniors would be so cute—though they would be).

However, I am definitely not ready to face what my friends are facing right now. I admire their courage in taking up the mantle of parenthood. I personally cannot fathom parenting right now, and yet I’m the same age as they are. I used to feel a little immature next to them, what with their stable jobs, husbands and kids on the way. Now, not so much; my own job stability and mobility (to travel where I want, when I want) are what I need at the moment, and they give me the sense of authority I was lacking when I was jealous of them a few years ago. It seems as if at least the twins’ mother was a bit envious of the child-free lifestyle IP and I currently enjoy, telling us to wait on kids and then asking the baby’s mother if she enjoyed parenting. “I love it,” said the baby’s mom, while the twins’ mom wrinkled her nose a bit. She loves her twins, obviously, but I don’t doubt it’s a big job to have.

Perhaps one day IP and I will join them again for lunch in order to show off our own brood. For now, though, we’re happy to look at pictures and watch cute videos that we’re sent; we’re happy to occasionally hold a kid and be able to give him or her back.