our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up

Hey, hi, hello. I have recently surpassed 1,000 total page views. Here. Which, is pretty cool and pretty creepy. But mostly pretty cool.
Anyway... I am a graduate of the standard North Carolina classroom driver's education program. yayyyy. I don't really. Know. Things that happened in driver's ed include police officers thinking that I am already drunk before putting on the drunk goggles because I am, apparently, terrible at walking. They didn't really think I was drunk, probably mostly because I was wearing a cloud print sweater. And carrying a novel (We Need to Talk About Kevin, in case you were wondering. One of John Water's favorite novels. So really, how can I not?). It's somehow reassuring to know that even though I never have to take PE again, I can still be judged by my physical adept-ness. Or lack thereof.
Let's see... other things. My best friend and I made truffles out of cream cheese and oreos, which I'll beg you not to knock until you've tried. We also took some to our good friend/ carpool buddy/ guy pal who lives down the block. Obviously. A few things I was struck by- his room is so terribly sparse! He has, a bed, with porn star sheets, I noted (purple satin). He has a desk. And a dresser. And then a veritable plethora of electronics. Including a large subwoofer, which he was ridiculously proud of. And then we listened to his terrible dubstep for a while. And then we knocked over a fence. And shot nerf guns. Which are surprisingly loud. We had a terrifically nerdy and awkward time. The boy in question is both terrific, nerdy, and awkward, so the situation was appropriate. We reminisced about elementary school, during which the three of us would trespass on a neighbor's land and have picnics down by their stream on the boulders that litter our neighborhood.
And today I babysat a two-year-old for my volunteer hours for school. It's for a mental health nonprofit in the area. Anyway, it was surprisingly tolerable. He was actually a lovely little boy. We played with his cars (Mater, Lightning, and Diana) and read his book (about bunny rabbits). And then he was sad, because he didn't know where mommy was. I hope I handled that situation because I think I ended up telling him that mommy was asleep. Which was okay, because then he understand and then we explored the Seymour Senior Center. (No, seriously.) We saw a gaggle of old Chinese people playing pingpong, who generally fawned over this adorable child. And then we talked to the people getting help with their taxes, who mostly had down syndrome. And then we went into the gym and watched the old people playing badminton. And then we waved out the window, a guy who's dumptruck had broken down- Henry called him Dumptruck Dan. I was also impressed at his advanced linguistic and cognitive skills- he was very communicative and even told me that bees make honey in their hives.
But anyway, the point of this is that I kind of like children some of the time. When they are adorable. I just don't feel... that the decision to have a child should be that is taken lightly, nor assumed as a given, especially for women. Because suddenly you have this tiny person you have to help because it can't do anything, and hopefully you won't kill it. Once you get past not killing it, there is still no guarantee that it will turn out okay, because you have to be with it all the time and if you fuck it up, it's not just yourself who you've screwed over. Even if you do everything right, your kid could be stupid or an asshole or a sociopath.  So, I don't know. Or something. I guess the conclusion is don't think I hate children. Because I don't.