Thoughts on love and children

I once thought after college I would find a job, fall in love, get married, have 2.5 kids, own a house with a garage, and retire at age 65 - just like a Norman Rockwell brochure would have you believe if there were such things. In reality, I'm nearing 40, twice divorced, grizzled and cranky, renting, fucking broke, half-impotent, disenfranchised, and generally kind of a bummer to be around. Hooray for the 'merican dream!

I am a realist. I know that my chance at fatherhood is fading - at least a chance for a typical fatherhood exercise. Why do I want to be a father? Because I think I would be a great one. But does that mean I really want to be one? Hmm, now that's an interesting question. Let's table that for a moment.

In order to be a father I have to find a woman to love (well, at least that's how one is supposed to go about doing it... or so I've heard) and make babies with. I've fallen in and out of love all my life. And I still have no idea how it all works out. My favorite kinds of love are the ones I can't have and/or keep - brand new love, forbidden love, and trysts. I guess the long-lasting type of love never took with me. I dunno. I'm not going to go to the effort of trying to explain it. Far too many therapists have proven far too inconclusive to lead me to believe that there is any particularly correct answer.

So do I want to be a father and can I fall in love? These questions have been at the forefront of my thoughts these days. I am heartbroken, and when the afflicted of said emotional ailment suffer we really like to pour it on by embracing even further negative thoughts. It's such a delicious spiral of self-perpetuating misery. My point is, I'm beating myself up over it. Like I'm some kind of loser because I can't find a woman to love and make babies with.

While reading an unrelated article today, I came across someone using her words to say things that made me think... and almost think that I may want to agree with her. It's kinda scary because it goes against societal thinking and what I've been taught to believe. But maybe she makes a little bit of sense...

On children:

I sometimes wonder if my parents lost more than they gained by having children. That, in the process of planning for our futures, they forgot about their own lives. There’s so much they could have done — should have done — when they were younger. Now, it’s too late. It’s like they went to bed at 30 only to wake up at 60 determined to make up for lost time. Except now the hourglass is nearly empty and the world has lost most of its luster. Selfish as it may sound, I could never travel that same road. I could never give my life to my kids; and please, save your “but you can have it both ways” spiel for someone less cynical. You don’t win the Mommy of the Year award sitting in a boardroom, and you don’t get a promotion for catching every Christmas concert. In one scenario, you resent your kids. In the other, you resent yourself. I haven’t yet decided which is worse, and to be quite frank, I don’t think I ever want to.

On love:

If I learned anything in 2013, it’s that love — the overwhelming, this-is-the-one kind, the love that makes you weak in the knees, if not slightly duller in the head — isn’t real. It exists outside of reality... The fall is fun, for a while. But big love is just that… oversized and oversold. Overstated and filled with impossible expectations. I don’t want to fall into that kind of love again. It lacks substance. I prefer the little loves. My best friend’s daughter running around the kitchen chanting, “It’s all rainbows,” over and over again. The wag of a dog’s tail when you scratch the sweet spot behind her ear. Neglected nuances, subtle sincerity — that’s where love lives. Lost in a pile of unmatched socks, it sits and waits for you, overlooked and underappreciated. Flawed but sturdy; frustrating but frank. A beautiful mess of sadness and hope. Fuck engagement rings and moonlit walks on the beach. Love hurts because that’s the only way to tell that it’s real.

The article was 14 Fucks I Refuse to Give in 2014 - Forget about New Year’s Resolutions. This year, I’m making a Fuck It list. It was rather amusing but an article on neither children nor love. I just really connected with some things she said and she got my attention with those two.

I can't control what the Universe will do. I can only take the opportunities she offers. I just hope to choose well... and that on my last day as I gasp my last breath I know that I have made a positive impact in people's lives.