“What if…?”
It’s a question to play with, a question that children like to ask.
Today, the “What if...?” was about the kids, a sudden thought that struck me as I watched a show about people building their dream homes, either by rehabbing an already established building or from scratch.
What if I didn’t have kids?
Hmm.
Maybe I’d live with Mom.
Maybe not.
Probably I would travel more. I’d have less laundry, fewer dishes, less cleaning. I’d have fewer expenses, maybe fret a good deal less about paying bills. Less work at events and fewer costs associated. I wouldn’t have to plan as far in advance, could pick up and pop off at a moment’s notice. Lower grocery costs. Things would stay where and as I’d put them.
I might write more, create more, have fewer distractions.
I wouldn’t be responsible for or to anyone but myself.
I also wouldn’t have constant snuggles, hugs, laughter, runs of puns, heaps of horrible jokes. There wouldn’t be the endless opportunity to teach and learn, the exhausting, exhilarating privilege of helping shape two extraordinary people into the final framework that will carry their ever-evolving selves through life.
There wouldn’t be the same sense of wonder at the world, the beautiful rediscovery of life, the universe, and everything, the drive to try all of the things, all of the time, the unceasing why.
It would be different. It would be emptier. I’m not one of the mothers who identifies herself only by her children, but they’re certainly a tremendous part of who I am and how I live. They shape every choice that I make.
So I can imagine with great clarity a life without them, but from a distance, like watching a show about homes in far-off places and wondering what it’d be like to have the resources to build that dream while making the most of and being content with what I have.