She So Funny

It’s tough to admit. But it’s who I am. It’s who I have always been. Maybe not everyone likes me for it; maybe not everyone accepts me for it. But I know I have to be true to myself and just know that it’s me and it’s okay. So I just put it out there for all to know and hope for the best. It’s the truth - I just don’t like kids.

Okay, so I realize I was actually a kid once myself. But to tell you the truth, I probably wouldn’t have liked me either. I was cranky, completely obsessed with my bottle, and most likely smelly, as my sister’s nickname for me (Jo-onion) can attest. Clearly not very likeable, I was also not so attractive. I was often poured into my shoes for pictures, due to my lack of ankles and previously mentioned drinking problem.



Some of these factors growing up may have had a hand in my thoughts about children today. It might also be that in being gay, it rarely occurred to me that I would have children, on purpose or even accidentally. Let’s face it, as careless and trampy as I could possibly be, I’d never have to sit down with my partner and explain why that night we spent at the beach may have given us more than what we bargained for, and I’m not just talking about a bra full of sand and a ticket for indecent exposure.

In a way, I was almost trained to not think of kids. I was at a Starbucks one day when I overheard two women talking. One was complaining about her mood swings and how the “hormones” were driving her crazy and she just couldn’t wait for “the big day”. My immediate thoughts were how tough it must be to be transgender but it’s great to hear that she’s finally going to become the woman she’s always felt she was. Then I wondered if she was going to have surgery here or in Europe but I didn’t have a chance to ask before they left, most likely because I was staring at her crotch.

Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate kids. I even like some. My niece and nephew are great. And I have friends with kids I can totally spend time with and not want to leave screaming. But everyday people with everyday kids can make me angry. Every day.

I do think over the years I have actually softened on the idea of them, and have even considered having one of my own with my partner – however we would be able do it. We have even gotten to the point where we started to think about what the kid would call us. I mean, clearly we both can’t be “Mom”. So trying to incorporate who we were as people, we came up for a name for my partner first. Her name is Andrea but most people call her Drea. So since she is Latina and with her name, what would be more perfect than to call her Madre? Get it? Ma-Drea? It’s almost too perfect. Unfortunately, if we kept on this line of thinking, I would end up being called Jo-Mama.

So I guess I don’t completely know where I stand anymore. Sometimes I feel like a nut, sometimes I don’t. But really, it’s not a bad thing either way. It’s just something I am. Or was. Or maybe I’m somewhere in the middle. Who knows, maybe they’re just growing on me.