Kids Scare Me

So today was my adorable niece's birthday party. And what a party it was. I think that maybe I just don't get the whole parenthood thing.

So we arrive at 11AM at the Gymboree party zone. First of all, I have to take off my boots, and my feet are instantly cold. This disturbs me. I have to leave my jacket hanging on a rack with hooks at children's height. This makes me suspicious. We're quickly escorted to a room of small slides and barrels and tubes and bubbles. I'm looking around suspiciously, and next thing I know, this crazed lady start singing all her thoughts. "1-2-3, play a game with me! Let's all play, it's your birthday today!" My ovaries aren't twitching a single iota (as women with maternal urges often joke). My stomach is clenched in the most hideous zone of discomfort.

There are yuppie type parents and kids in clothes that probably cost more than mine. But the truly weird part? Everyone is just so... happy? It feels fake and creepy and cult-ish. "Row, row, row your boat!" The parents grin at each other as they swoosh some bizarro parachute up and down with the kids under it. "Skinamarinky-dinky-dink!" The children totter about as they're pushed to beat on the rubber tube while music plays -- though not to the beat. "I went to the store to buy a bike!" Everyone oohs and aahs as children smoosh cheesies into their soft skin. "The wheels on the bus go round-and-round!" We are the only two people there without children of our own -- other than the children. "Let's all sing along-along! Let's all sing alonnnnng!"

I am not singing.

I am sitting on a tiny bench with my arms crossed. I am feeling anxious and uncomfortable and just want to get away from the creepiness and singing and weird activities. I am hiding in the corner during lunch. I am avoiding the parents with their incessant cooing and their endless talk about their kids. I am wondering why they all ask me the same question -- "So how was your holiday?" -- and then sort of mentally exit the conversation halfway through my response.
I am wanting to leave and get the hell back to my real life.

And I am wondering how the hell I will ever, ever be a parent.

I don't know about kids. I totally love hanging out with them one-on-one for specific time periods, but I am not drawn at all to this cult of mommyhood. I don't like the idea of hanging out exclusively with other parents and finding children to be my most interesting conversational topic and listening to the Wiggles and all that crazy stuff. I know that not everyone does this -- and, to be fair, my in-laws and few friends with children are great examples of normalcy when they're not around other parents; they're relaxed and laid back. However, this doesn't make the possibility any less likely, nor any less frightening. And my brother-in-law made a joke this weekend about how we say right now that we plan to live in a condo for five years, but just wait 'til I pop out a kid. I responded with a dry "Um, that sure won't be happening in the next five years." His reaction? "You don't think you'll have a kid in the next five years? How old are you, anyway?" I laughed it off. Besides, I get this kind of thing a lot from people with kids. (They generally think I'm missing out on life.) And, yes, I am pushing 30.

I just wouldn't be that parent. I wouldn't be able to handle bad music and fakery and competition and mommies, and I wouldn't be able to abandon my old life. I would want to make a newborn listen to real music. I would probably be snobby about hanging out with mommy cults. I would want to avoid group stuff at all costs and make the kid a cool part of my life instead of its star. Is that unfair to be that wrong kind of parent to a kid? Cripes.

The idea of never having a kid (and a is the key word -- there would never be more than that) seems a little sad to me, but the idea of actually doing it? I fear it's not for the best. What if that maternal thing that everybody else seems to have just never kicks in? How am I supposed to know what to do, or when to do it, or whether I should just trust my gut and stick with life as regularly scheduled?