I do not have kids. Nor do I know for sure that I want to have kids.

I have friends who have kids though. Seeing them with their babies makes me want to have my own. Witnessing that kind of love and deep committment almost brings me to tears.

But seeing a child in the mall screaming his head off while his Mother drags him half on the floor with sticky hands, stained clothes, and cotton candy all over his face makes me think twice.

This is an important decision. I am not in a place in my life now where kids are an option (considering I’m not even in a relationship), but I’d like to at least keep my mind open to the possibility.

My Mother often tells me, as we see these loud-mouthed spectacles all over malls, grocery stores, parks and the neighborhood, that I will feel differently once it’s my own child. That my whole perspective will change. That I will love like I have never loved before. That it’s something I won’t understand until I hold that precious being in my arms for the first time.

And I believe her.

I hate to say though, that I might just be too selfish to produce a child. I value too much my sleeping in on the weekends, my time alone reading, my playing on the computer whenever I want, my trips to the gym or the movies… All that fades away when you have a little one in your life. (At least for the first few years anyhow.)

So I can’t understand the back and forth that I feel about this. When I visit my best friend and her 18 month old, I can’t wait to have one of my own. I think about how I desperately want to have a little girl who looks just like me. Who will gaze at me and latch on to me like I’m her whole world. Who will follow me around and want me to pick her and hold her all the time. Who will always smile when she sees me walk into a room.

But when I see toddlers raising hell all over the place in the neighborhood I change my mind.

Why the paradox? Am I just afraid? Or am I really too selfish?

Perhaps it’s both.

Until I figure it out I am just going to have cats and dogs.

- Jaime