The octopus and the turtoise

There’s a lot of chaos around me, like a lot a lot. Children are running around, screaming, playing with all different sorts of toys. Loads of people, all talking, having different feelings and needs. It is quite tiring, your head sort of gets crazy with all the input. At these moments I am not sure if I ever really want children. I actually never wanted children, until the first time I fell in love. All of a sudden I wanted things I never used to want; a marriage and children, I almost felt like a stranger to myself. These unknown needs I suddenly had, stayed with me for a long time, though lately they have been changing again. It dawned on me that since I already cared and worried so much about my younger siblings, that amount of worrying probably would only increase if I had children. The worrying itself does not really matter that much, but what does matter in my opinion is how it reflects on the child. The worrying could easily resort in the child growing up either very scared and anxious themselves or very bored since he/she cannot do a thing because their overprotective, controlling and scared parent will not let them. I imagine the mother in me like a very loving, but anxious octopus who hugs you with all her tentacles to never let go again. Meanwhile my child has to keep assuring me that really a trip on his/her own to the supermarket will not be dangerous. That is not a life I would wish for any child, let alone my child. The only way it would work out is if I had a very relaxed and strong partner who could counterbalance my amount of worrying with a lot of confidence and general chillness. Sort of like the stoned turtoise in ‘Finding Nemo’, who just goes with the flow and allows his little turtoises to have fun and experience life.

I am not even sure why I am thinking about this so much, since at this moment neither a marriage nor children are in the picture. These thoughts just sort of come up when I see other peoples lifes and start thinking about my own life and my future. The funny thing is that even though I am not sure I would be a good parent, I do like children. In my line of work there are a lot of children too, and I like playing games with them and seeing the world through their eyes. Just the thought of having children of my own scares me a bit, because I do not know if I can handle it.

As I am writing, the children in the house I am staying at have gone to bed, to their first daytime nap, and the peace has returned. Now I can finally think again and concentrate on my own thoughts. I think the one thing I can conclude from all of this is that I am not fit to be a stay-home mum. I have a lot of respect for them, but I do not think a stay-home octopus can ensure an evironment where children can experiment with the art life. At least, not unless there is also a turtoise standing by to keep an eye on the octopus and make sure her hugs do not become a trap.

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