Other People’s Kids Make me Uncomfortable
Before I had kids, I always felt a little uncomfortable and sometimes irritated around other people’s kids. I never had a little sibling and didn’t have nieces and nephews until I was in my 30s. I thrived in a world where I interacted with adults only, who understood social norms and who I could relate to. Living in a condo downtown, I was unmarried, had no children, and honestly could go days without even seeing a child let alone interacting with one. I think this lack of exposure made me develop a special kind of social anxiety reserved for little people. Put me in front of one, and I didn’t know what to say. What types of things did kids do or like at different ages? I had no idea. I could try being goofy or playful, but honestly that’s just not my personality. I felt (and probably looked) extremely awkward trying to find my kid voice, so I mostly just didn’t try.
When my sister had kids, I got a little more comfortable. I could relish in their cuteness, and when I had my fill, I could return to my calm life – relishing in sensory underload and catching up on my shows, alone. The limited exposure felt pretty good – a toe dip and light training leading up to the time in my life when I considered having children of my own. After we got that positive pregnancy test, I thought a lot about when my baby would stop being a baby and turn into one of those children that had, until that point in my life, given me a bit of an icky feeling. There’s something about that awkward phase when kids are losing their baby teeth and constantly trying to impress you that made me cringe. Would I feel that way about my own child? What if they were particularly annoying? What if my personality didn’t vibe with theirs? What if I wasn’t good at playing with them? I soothed my anxious mind by telling myself my kid vibes would kick in once they were here, and I’d change my outlook on not only my own kid but probably other kids as well. Moms love all kids, right?
I was partly wrong and partly right. I love my own kids, a lot. I think they are the most adorable things to ever grace this planet. But I’m still me. I don’t love endlessly playing Paw Patrol or Barbies. I’m not the “fun and crazy” mom who races around the playground and throws their kids up in the air. Luckily, my four-year-old loves crafts, lounging and self-care in the form of nail salon dates. She’s a relatively relaxed and non-adventurous toddler, and I can speak her language. I’m mildly terrified of raising a little boy now, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
The thing is, I still feel uncomfortable around other people’s kids. Especially random ones, and particularly those we meet on the playground. It seems inevitable that I’ll be playing with my own child, holding her hand as she climbs or watching her come down the slide when a child I’ve never met comes super close to me and tells me something I don’t quite understand or wants me to watch them too. “I can do it better!” they’ll say, “watch me!” I’ll look around, wondering where this child’s parents have gone. How have they managed to duck out of playground duty? Have they not told their children not to talk to strangers?
The other day, we were at an indoor mall playground, and a child much older than mine kept following me around, saying “Come on, Krill!” and staring me in the face like I was supposed to do something. I didn’t know the child and I don’t know who Krill is, so I tried a few evasive maneuvers to lose this tag-along. I felt ridiculous, a 37-year-old mom trying to evade a seven-year-old child who was genuinely making me uncomfortable. Why am I like this?
I’ll chalk up my continued inability to relate to children other than my own as one of the many surprising things about motherhood. Expectations are rarely reality, and at the end of the day, respecting your limits can mean realizing you’re a mom who is scared of children of a certain age. At least I know I didn’t miss my calling as a teacher, and maybe – after those awkward years are over, I’ll find my groove as that cool mom that takes her teenage daughter and her friends shopping and to the North Loop for dinner and gives great dating advice. Perhaps the best is yet to come.
