I sure do. I love seeing your kids online. And before you call any government agency on me, I want to make this clear. I consider myself your kids’ honorary fairy godmother. (Some of you have been so nice that you’ve actually told me that I am.)
If we’re friends at a place like Instagram or Facebook, you can’t post too many pictures of your kids doing cute things.
I don’t have kids. There was a moment ten years ago when, for about two months, I thought that I might like to have a child with my wife. We even got a sperm donor on board, a dear friend whom I love. But then I did the research, and it would have cost at least $15,000 to do it all the right way, legally, which I would’ve needed for my own peace of mind.
Back then, we were deeply in debt. I refused to put a child on yet another credit card.
Surprisingly, my biological clock just stopped ticking. I’ve had no grief about not being able to have a child. When I woke up from my hysterectomy surgery at 39, I was prepared to be submerged in waves of emotion, and all I really felt was Hallelujah, the period is gone.
And I have two nephews! One is nine, and one is fourteen. I don’t get to spend enough time with either of them, but when I do, I’m astounded by how freaking cool they are. I have an unofficial adopted daughter, a girl I love with all my heart. (She makes me feel like a mom and a friend, a wonderful combination.)
I can’t stop thinking, though:
In all of history, up until recently, I would’ve been surrounded by children, either my own, are those of my family.
When you think about it, this is the first time in human history that society has been (kind of) cool with people not having children. It’s also the only time we’ve been surrounded by photos of our extended, chosen families on a daily basis.
When I click the LOVE button on Instagram, it’s the equivalent of me giving your kid an aunt-like hug or a high-five.
I’m watching your kids grow. I’m fascinated by how these cute little bugs, tiny little beings with edible cheeks, have grown into four-year-olds and fourteen-year-olds. Some of them ARE IN COLLEGE NOW. I’ve watched them in every phase of their development, and when they lose a tooth, I’m invested. When they go to prom and get all tiny-adult dressed up, I kvell.
I’ve heard that mothers sometimes worry that people will get bored if they post too many pictures of their children.
No, dude.
People like me, childfree women by choice, LOVE seeing the cartwheel he’s mastered, or the dump truck she loves. Plus, honestly, it’s the best of all worlds. I get to peek into your world and see the magical moments, when he’s wrapped his hand around your finger as he sleeps, or the moment she takes her first steps. I miss all the tantrums and the endless arguments about cereal.
Please keep it up. I can’t afford to send all your kids fairy-godmother birthday presents, but if it helps, they have all my love showered on them from afar. It’s a gift, to be able to witness their happiness. Keep ’em coming.
Rachael, I love the blogging. It allows for so much more than brief Instagram posts tucked in the middle of a crowded feed.
Sometimes I want something to really read. Thanks!
I love the blog as well! You have always been so generous and open with your life and experiences via all the social media. I always think you you as my ‘cool writer friend who lives in California’ even though we’ve never met. (Is that creepy? I hope not. I mean it in the best way. ) Anyway, I just wanted to say that your words have meaning and depth and touch the lives of people around the world daily. Also, my kids ARE amazing and thank you for wanting to see that.
Not creepy, LOVELY! <3
I love that you love my kid. You’ve always been so supportive and sweet with her, and it makes me feel like she’s got the most awesome auntie out in Cali. I’ll always have Beast pics for you.
As a parent of a gargantuan almost teenager who briefly held the title *cutest baby in the world* before your nephew was born….. I love this.
:)<3 <3