Responsibilities

I do not have kids. I do not want to have kids. I adore my nieces and nephews. I love my friends’ kids. I love my invisible friends’ kids. (That’s you guys, except Cougar’s kids. Those are my  nieces and nephews and grand nieces and nephews.)

My spouse didn’t want kids. I wanted my spouse. I had never really wanted kids. So we settled down. His phrase was, “If we want kids we can adopt a 15-year-old.”

I work with college kids. I am a mentor to college kids. They stick around. Spouse is pleased that I have brought him young ‘uns that he can torment and that can torment him. It’s a nice dynamic.

And so today I woke up from my residency haze and realized that some of my college buddies have graduated. And I needed to acknowledge them and celebrate them because they are my friends but also my mentees. I am their sassy irritating aunt. I Jewish mom them. We cuss together.

The residency is intensely selfish. You do everything for your art. That sounds pretentious, but it isn’t. You are given two weeks where all you do is write. Your job is to be a good citizen, but to write your ass off.

But sometimes you have to look up and get in touch with your faux kids. Most of you are parents for real. Who has faux kids? I know it isn’t the same, but I love it.

What’s it like for you?

 

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4 responses to “Responsibilities

  1. You are my fausse-kid (note the proper “accord”).

    You don’t remember, but when I was 17 and you were less than one, I would drag you around and have everyone congratulate me on my kid. One of my then-boyfriends probably still believes that you were mine, and that Mom was pretending you were hers.

    And, what Paul said. Grandkids. Whoa! how amazing is it to have grandkids?!

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