I can’t seem to escape children lately. It’s not that I’m trying to avoid them, but I seem to see them everywhere I go — happy children and proud parents full of love for those kids.
I don’t have any children yet, but I really want them. Given the circumstances of my life, I might never have any. I’m told that having the right woman agree to be the mother of your children is one of the prerequisites — and that part is beyond my control.
The closest things I’ve had to kids have been my nieces, Katherine and Anna, and my animals, too numerous to mention by name. (The picture above is about four years old. Anna’s the one on the left with the huge grin. The picture below is Anna with me at the Birmingham Zoo.) They live three hours from me, so I don’t see them as often as I’d like, but I love them very much and I’m proud of them. They’re wonderful girls.
Still, I’d like to have my own family. I bring this up partly because the subject of children and family keeps coming up in my life lately, but also because I was thinking about something related to it over the weekend.
What if ‘the Good Old Days’ were never as good as you remember?
Conflicting expectations can kill even the deepest love and hope
Sharing ridiculous things we enjoy is a special part of love
Obama’s bad advice shows why politicians don’t ‘get’ bureaucracy
Do you believe you’re free? Slavery by any other name is still slavery
What if narcissistic vampire bit me but he never finished the job?
Nothing new here: Russell Brand pushing same old socialist idiocy
We frequently go back to the past hoping to find a different future