When a woman reaches a certain age and has made the decision not to have children, people often question. She often questions her own thinking. What kind of woman am I? I know I would be a great Mom. I have a great Mom and know plenty of great Mom's. Child rearing is just not where my head or uterus are at this moment in time. I contemplate the decision every now and again, and reconcile in the best manner I know how- in a strange poetic way.
A bouncing baby…
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Today, I put a basketball under my shirt. I wanted to see what it felt like to have a belly that wasn’t the result of overdosing on Oreo Cookies, but I’m still not sure what it would feel like because the child, I lovingly named Voit, didn’t shit itself or cry for a nipple to suckle upon.
How could I make an accurate assessment of what it would feel like to be a Mama if my round, orange off-spring didn't emit needs for feeding, bathing, nurturing, rides to school, go-kart racing, guitar lessons? Voit has simple requests: fill to the proper inflation weight, dribble with a nimble hand, and then lay up or dunk into a net.
What about the quality time? I can barely give Voit the time he deserves now! Rarely, a game of Horse on a Saturday afternoon, and occasionally some free throw shooting on a Thursday night. I couldn’t make it to the Sweet Sixteen or Championship Games. And, it wouldn’t be for my lack of trying. I believe that some people are cut out for this type of full court play. Me? I’m a traveler, and it’s hard to find luggage that matches Voit’s orange, dimpled skin.
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