I have never been one of those people who have said that “all children are beautiful/cute,” or that I love kids. The truth is that I actually do not love kids at all, and that’s probably a huge reason that even when I was a kid myself, I never even for a minute considered being a school teacher (even though it’s fed to you as a [female] child that being a teacher is cool!). I know myself, and I know that I just don’t have the patience it takes to deal with kids and their tantrums, their constant irritating questions, their outbursts, and even things like peeing or pooping in their pants, even if it’s by accident. It’s obviously different when it’s your own child/children, but with other people’s kids… I could never even imagine proactively babysitting another friend’s child unless they were a baby who couldn’t speak.

Despite this fact, I always knew I wanted to have kids. I always wanted to raise my own child and know what that entire experience was like. I wanted to have a family of my own to nurture — I do think that I’m a nurturing, loving person by nature; I love taking care of others. So, now that I have one child of my own, I love her more than I ever thought possible. But that doesn’t necessarily change my original state of being, which is that while I may love my own child (you’d hope so!), I don’t necessarily love other people’s kids, even if they are the kids of my own extended family and friends. Some of my friends’ kids are extremely bratty and entitled. Others, even for their respective ages, are extremely immature and socially awkward and have made it pretty clear that no matter how sweet I am to them, they just will not give me any love at all, even if it’s a simple-high five. One of them has refused, for her entire existence, to ever give me a hug or kiss; in fact, she refuses even to wave hi or bye to me to acknowledge me! And then today, while out with a neighbor friend and her son, who is just a few months younger than Kaia, I was really at my wit’s end at times trying to control this kid and his tendencies.

First, this little friend kept trying to run into the street (and he actually did when there were cars coming and the light was red). This drove his mom crazy, as she’d obviously worry for his safety. I had to grab him a few times before he actually got into the middle of the street. Then, when I took out our Bluey bubble machine, he randomly started sticking it in strangers’ faces to blow bubbles just a foot or two away from their noses — this was not good at all. Then, he kept insisting on running into people on purpose while walking simply because he thought it was funny. And there was a good stretch of time when any time I tried to open my mouth to say anything, he’d talk over me and say that ‘Kaia’s mom isn’t listening to me.” I kept pretty calm overall, but I did have to shut down the bubbles in people’s faces, plus the “running into the street when cars were coming” situation a number of times.

Everything finally came to a head when we were just a block away from our building, and the little friend decides to try to run into the street yet again during a red light. This time, his mom finally lost all her patience and screamed at him while simultaneously pulling him back onto the sidewalk. Predictably, he started sobbing, and she had to carry him across the street and sit him down for a good talk. I mean… he kind of deserved it after being warned literally all day long?

In these moments, I always think about early childhood educators, and it’s really hard for me to comprehend having to deal with other people’s young children all day long. Their job is so, so tough. And it’s a very unappreciated job. These little kids are growing into their own selves, they are discovering their emotions and what their bodies and minds are capable of, and they are… simply growing. And that’s a lot to deal with, especially when there’s an entire classroom full of these bursting little personalities. I have moments with Kaia when she’s screaming and sobbing into my ear so loudly that I can barely hear my own thoughts, all over something innocuous when I wonder how anyone could ever willingly decide to deal with this more than once.

Amen to early childhood educators. I just don’t have the patience to deal with most other people’s children.