Kids

I cannot fathom how any human on this earth manages life with kids. 

For the last week or so, I have been staying with my family in Boston. My uncle, whom I absolutely love, is now a parent to two little girls who are universally believed to be "the cutest". Except by me of course. 

Now, don't get me wrong, I love them. When they want to be, they can be super sweet, and the younger one - now four years old - has the potential to be absolutely adorable when she wants to get her way. I can absolutely deal when I only have to do a few things for them, like make them some food or read them a book. But, see, the problem is at a time like right now, when their parents have abandoned us and left me in charge. 

For the first hour or so, it was great. They were watching the Lego Movie and were so wonderfully absorbed in it (despite the fact that it was at least their third viewing this week) that I was able to silently slip off and make myself breakfast and a cup of tea, even enjoy the movie myself. Great, right? It was. Fabulous. Until about the last half hour when their concentration waned a little bit, and I found myself telling them to stop doing this and stop doing that and I started to get irritated.

Then the movie ended. A game was created. Put the sofa seats in reclining position and slide down on cushions. Uh, no! No. Firstly, that causes terrible structural imbalance. I know from experience. It could topple the whole sofa onto them, and I do not want to be responsible for that shit. Secondly, yellow cushions on a dirty ground is unacceptable. So I made them stop. It took a bit of effort but they stopped sliding. The cushions were still on the floor, though. So I picked them up.

Afterwards, one of them went to get some animal cookies. I decided that a few would be okay. Then she dropped one on the floor. Instead of being normal and picking it up to put it in the bin, or eat it, or whatever, she stepped on it. Obviously, I berated her and told her to put her cookies down and pick up what she had dropped. She told me we needed a broom and I agreed so she went to get one. But, being an inept four year old, her idea of cleaning up was spreading it further. I ended up sweeping it all without a dustpan and had to pick up the pieces by hand. Meanwhile, the older sister had went to get her own cookies. Then came the moaning about how the younger sister had had her cookies stolen and other such things. The rest of the cookies got put on top of the fridge. To be honest, this is my universal solution. All I wanted was for them both to stop and shut up, so I gave them books and told them to sit down. Unfortunately, this solution was only useful for about five minutes. Ugh. 

Next, we had the saga of the lost Play Doh cup. One of them had stolen the Play Doh cup for her tea party game - which is irritatingly taking place on my bed - and convinced the other, who was looking for it so that she could put the Play Doh away, that it was a different cup So we spent forever searching for the initial cup, with various problems and arguments relating to dumb stuff like some Minnie Mouse glasses - which were consequently confiscated and put on top of the microwave - and a ballerina Barbie. They aren't even good toys! Fight over the Lego for God's sake!!! I eventually gave up and made them both put everything down and look for it. We never found another one because, obviously, there was never another one.

Currently, one of them is going through my bag and asking me what things are for. *passes me my lip balm* "Read it!" "Intense Therapy Lip Balm SPF25" "Is it for adults?" "Yep." "Put it on! What colour is it? What does it feel like!? Let me put it back." *passes me my tissues* "What's this for?" Like, are you serious? Are we doing this? The other one has made a strange Lego shape, clearly inspired by the movie and is shouting about it. Really, children? Really?

I don't know. I had thought about having kids but after this debacle of a morning, I'm second guessing my second guess. In case you hadn't realised, I really do not want kids.

I'm certain it's worse right now for me because they know I'm not the absolute authority. I'm not their Mom, and I'm not their Dad so what can I really do about their arguments and misbehaviour? I can threaten "Time Out"s but really am I going to go to through with them? I can shout at them, but I can't really do anything serious. As much as I say, "I am in charge", the level to which I am is really rather debatable.

If I have taken away anything from this traumatic experience, though, it's never to have more than one kid. Or, if I do, to make sure they are different genders because having two kids who want the same thing constantly is exhausting. But until then I will stick to my perfect life mantra, "I hate kids".