Musings - By Z

I’m not sure I ever wanted kids, I just knew that it was something you did somewhere in between getting your diapers cleaned for you as a child and then again in a nursing home. Maybe it’s a human condition in which we always need to be cleaning a diaper – our own or otherwise, but I digress. I just figured that I’d be having kids. And as I went through life, I realized that there are a LOT of fun things to do that don’t involve children. Things like, EVERYTHING! You can sleep, eat, bathe, drink and generally behave like an infant, as long as you don’t have one that relies on you. Of course there are many people who still do act that way even with children, but I contend that they should be shot and put somewhere underground to think about their actions for a while. Call it a permanent time out.

So when I heard that J was having a baby, I thought ‘Of course he is’. Because it is what we do. And J had grown up quite a bit, from what I could remember from my drinking and dialing episodes. I was very excited to see what happens when someone who was dead set against children makes a 180 degree turn in 5 years…for I could see that it might happen to me.

The first thing that I noticed was that there was a decided lack of patience and time on his behalf. Very rude, thought I, for him to abandon his friend for pursuits such as money for his family and food for his child. There was a blessing in disguise, however, for him being so far away. That is, that unlike other parents, he was on my schedule. I’m not sure what gene is supressed, or what synaptic gap becomes inactive in a new parent, but they suddenly think that anytime that the baby is up is a great time to call their childless friends. That means 8am on a weekend. Perhaps they are suffering from ‘Parent Brain’, (a condition which I will explore further), I am sure, but they figure that as long as they are up, they may as well share the joy or misery with all they can. So with J being three hours behind, I was never subjected to these 8am calls. He, however, was subject to my post-pub calls that were at 1am for me – a perfect time to call him, I thought. Kid is asleep; he’s probably having some beers with Mrs. J, getting ready for a night of passionate lovemaking, as I imagined parenthood would be. I could never fully understand why he wasn’t interested in reliving old days, or able to laugh at the plight of our favourite hockey team. He seemed to be missing something, other than the alcohol buzz I was experiencing. It was almost as if something else had taken over his life. The ‘Parent Brain’ factor had begun.

The Parent Brain is something I have noticed particularly in mothers, but is also very prevalent in fathers who only have girls. I’ve stared a man in the eyes that has three teenage daughters. A man that I once played hockey with, shared bar stories with, and was a wingmen for while we traipsed through the bars searching for Ms. Right Now. And here is, staring blankly at me as I describe sports to him, ask him if he’s tried new beers, or seen a movie with the latest hot thing de jour. But no, he stares blankly. So as a test, I ask about The Pussycat Dolls, or Hannah Montana, and he lurches to life, talking about all the accessories and clothes and songs. I walk away sadly as he continues to rant. The Parent Brain has consumed him completely. He is a shell of a man. Mothers are no different. An intelligent woman, with whom I could have discussed the woes of the world, now can only speak in monosyllabic words, and has to struggle to not talk to me like an infant. She constantly asks for bah-bahs, and doo-doos, and is forever lifing her child to her nose to smell for a dirty diaper. It is a sad, sad state of affairs for the childless to see this happening to tho ones they love.

Of course, I don’t feel superior – I simply watch in amazement as one by one, all fall in the same way. I feel sure that I won’t be able to avoid the inevitable if it happens to me, but for the time being, I can only watch in amazement, and track my thoughts here.