I wouldn't say that I was 'destined' to be a mom, infact, when I decided that I wanted a baby (some 10 years ago now) I was in Asda doing my grocery shopping cooing over a pretty ugly baby in a pushchair. I figured hey, one more mini me in this world wouldn't be so bad, would it?
Strange decision to make, this having a baby shit, particularly since I hate kids. But nonetheless, I got up the duff, bun in the oven and had a shotgun wedding because we wanted to do it all properly. Man oh man, did I think I knew EVERYTHING back then. Ante-Natal classes? Fuck no, I don't need to learn how to fuckin breathe, I do that shit everyday, just tell me what God damn drugs I can get...
When I actually, seriously, thought about having kids, I'd daydream about their achievements, their ambitions and the families they would make of their own. Would one be a Doctor? or a Scientist, hell, even run for Parliament? How wrong, can we get it sometimes??
All in all, my first child (whom we call Moodle) was, and still is, a good kid. She's super intelligent, extremely beautiful and has the attitude of one bad ass mutha fucka. Her manipulation skills are akin to my own, but I've had 32 years of honing that skill, she's had 10 and she knows her shit. She's not your average 'pretty floral dress' kid either. She took after her momma and is pretty goth in her choice of clothing and I know she get's stick about it at school but she just doesn't give a fuck and I adore her for that.
Because of Moodle's intelligence, which started to show itself at around the age of 3, since that's when we discovered her doing quite big jigsaw puzzles downside up plus she could pretty much tell the time at that age too although obviously it bore no significance to her, I always firmly believed this kid would go places. She could have the biggest dream and actually achieve it. And so, the other day whilst we were eating out I asked her what her plans were for her future, what did she want to do really bad? Her answer totally, and utterly gobsmacked me. I choked on my coffee.
''Well Mom, you see, the thing is I've been doing some thinking, and I'm pretty sure... no wait.... I'm defo sure that I'm probably gonna do nothing really coz I figure that by the time I'm supposed to go and do some job for some money or something, Dad's gonna be loaded so you think It's cool if I just stay at home til like I'm old and 42''
Wtf? Firstly, since when is 42 old? I got 10 years to go man and I'll officially be an old washed up bitch? Secondly.... when Daddy IS rich, there is only room for ONE deadbeat chick to spend that money!
I think about her answer for the rest of the day and by the end of that day I felt better since I do have another little girl who could maybe one day change the world right?
Let me tell you about Rubychan. She's 3. She's disasterously gorgeous with little blonde ringlet hair, striking grey eyes and vampiric teeth. She is in a love triangle at school with Raul and Domingo. She looks naughty and she IS naughty. I swear that sometimes if she weren't as cute as she is, she'd never live to see her next birthday. She looks like butter wouldn't melt but trust me when I tell you that she is a pure handful. Her alter nickname is indeed Hurricane Ike.
Rubychan doesn't like dollies. Rubychan doesn't like dressing up in princess dresses, and she most certainly does not like having teddy bear picnics. No. Rubychan has two loves. 1. Motorbikes 2. Fashioning weapons from anything around the house and dual wielding them with sound for mass effect. That's right. She's lethal. She put's the A-Team's skills to fuckin shame. She can make the most effective weapons from the most retarded of shit. And biking? She loves nothing more than to watch the MotoGP races with us and, annoyingly, to me, cheers for Valentino Rossi as if her life depends on it. Pure adrenaline junkie with zero fear. Stands to reason that she has split her head open twice in one year, one of which she had to have 'grown-up' stitches which the Doctors did at my home, with no anaesthetic and the girl didn't even blink. No tears just a 'Get the fuck on with it man, I got shit to make' face.
This morning Rubychan asks me if she can go play in her bedroom. Sure I tell her, and I asked if she'd like it if I came too so we can play some Buckaroo. She always loves playing this game, but today she blows me out. Confused I ask her why she doesn't want momma to come play.
""I'm playing with my new friend''
Let me tell you, when your kid utters a sentence at you like that, and you don't see no 'friend' it puts chills down your spine. Is she referring to an imaginary friend? which I've heard is pretty normal for kids to do, or is she referring to some weird ghost spirit? I press her for the details...
""Momma, my new friend is my spider, which I catched like this (As she thunderously claps her hands together with her eyes gleaming, I pondered the spider's current vitals) and then it was try'na run off Mom but I getted it so fast and I put it in Mickey's clubhouse"
I gently told her we don't catch spiders and that we leave them alone or throw one of the cats at them. I hate spiders. She just looks at me like I'm a wanker.
I take her up to her room to play and decide to look in Mickey's clubhouse. True to her word, there was the spider on Mickey's bed. At first glance I thought the hideous thing was dead and wondered whether it would be weird if I left it there. Is it freaky for a kid to play with a dead spider? but as I close the door to Mickey's gaff, I notice a leg move... It's alive, ALIVE! I look closer and something just doesn't seem right, what's wrong with this picture? Stood behind me, Rubychan is proudly grinning at the sight of her new friend, hopping on one leg. I figured it out, what was so so wrong. The spider was missing not one, but two legs. I counted, three times.
Raising my eyebrow, I ask her where the spider's legs are and she denies all knowledge, at first. I persist and eventually she cracks.
"Oh momma, it kept runnin' away and it wouldn't ride Mickey's car so, I just took 'em off and now he can play coz he can't run away"
At that moment, Stephen King's Misery played itself out in my head. That gripping dark scene where Kathy Bates loses her mind and hobbles Paul Sheldon's feet.
I didn't know whether to be appalled or piss myself laughing. I have to give her problem solving skills some credit though.
This leaves me thinking now, looking at both of my children's.... I wanna say attributes, but we'll go with issues, what futures are these weird kids gonna have? Just what type of life defining moments will they have?
All I know is that I think we're in for one helluva ride bringing these girls up and I fear that I'm not so well equipped to handle them, responsibly.
Needless to say, I will never have another child because at this rate with the two I have, I'll either be flat broke by the time one is 42 and filing Bankruptcy OR I'll be found lying face down and bleeding after some freak home accident wherein I'm speared to the floor from some amazing lego/dinosaur/spatula fashioned weapon.
Have freakin awesome weekend all.
Raven xoxo
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