Parallel Dimension

My sleeping schedule is all messed up. Yesterday, I didn't get out of my PJs till 7pm and finally went out at 10 to pick up my friend from the airport and get some dessert. With the whole cable service merger, I temporarily have oodles of movie channels and on demand, which means I watched countless movies, such as The Man In The Moon, a movie that I've wanted to see since it came out in 1991. It's the sweet film debut for Reese Witherspoon and let's just say, it makes me glad not to have a sister.

I stayed up late again but unfortunately had to wake up early to drive across town for my goddaughter's birthday party. They have these warehouses filled with jump houses, slides, various other activities, and a food room for kids parties, booked by the hour. The one we went to, Hullabaloo's Playhouse was far away, filled with 25 of my goddaughter's closest kiddie friends, all under 6, most of them around 3.

Other than my godson's elderly nanny, I was the only childless/unmarried person there. It felt like a parallel dimension where I didn't belong. Other than the 2 other friends I knew there, none of the parents talked to me. To be fair, I was still groggy and delirious for most of the party, stupefied that I was even there.

For most of my life, up to my mid-twenties, I was so good with kids. I'd be the one on the floor playing with all the children and pets while the rest of the adults talked. They trusted me, followed me around, and saw that I was still a child like them. It's what inspired me to go into children's book writing.

Somehow, a few years back, I started losing that ability to relate. Of course, the inspiration to write children's stories evaporated soon after. Now, I look at kids and I see exhaustion. I see more than 6 kids and I think how did I ever manage to teach a class of them for a summer? I love my godchildren but worry I won't be able to relate or do enough for them. Every time I spend more than 2 hours with them, I want to nap.

The ironic thing is my friends chose me to be the godmother of their kids years ago because I was the youngest one amongst our friends, the most childish one, the one who loved my goddaughter the most, and the one likeliest to not have my own kids. Someone who could continue to love their kids the most.