The paper is very done. I’m still recovering from the last two weeks, but am in a very different place, which is refreshing. Very.
Bij is one of the few who understand how I feel about people with kids. It has little to do with them, and everything to do with me. I won’t go into this, because I’m too tired to think clearly, but suffice it to say that I’m sensitive to watching the dynamics of people carving themselves into their children, antigone style, while tooting the horn of parenthood is next to godlihood. I find it painful. This says more about me than them. & let this not get me in trouble with my many friends with kids. Mostly we’ve had this discussion anyway, so don’t sit quietly and fume. call me up on it. I could write an addendum to Ulug’s because you don’t have kids (“cause I don’t want kids”), but that time will not likely permit.
I’m tired. I hope this doesn’t sound cranky. I do have a beautiful story about parenting that I must share, since I’m in judgment mode. Soon. That is, after all, why I’m here.
“Always a Godmother, never a God.” —fran liebowitz