For Easter Sunday, J and I were up in San Leandro hanging out with our buds J&J, who are new parents. We played with the baby, caught up on work/life balance struggles, ate, drank, and played mahjong. At some point in the conversation, we talked about preparing wills and medical directives and such. And I came to realize that months ago, when my bud J asked me about being their child’s godparent, I DID read his request correctly. At the time, I interpreted the request as serving as the child’s guardian should anything happen to him and his wife. I tried to acknowledge the honor of being asked, and I tried to stress how much we valued their friendship. But the thought of being a parent really freaks me out. If I really consider my history, an upbringing full of stability and security and yet so laden with stress to achieve and perform and meet expectations… Couple that with multiple examples in my family and extended family of parenting gone horribly wrong, plus the realization that I was essentially already a parent to my brother while we were both at Duke, I have an indescribable fear and loathing for trying to care for or guide someone who ultimately has his/her own mind. I don’t think my brother ever acted with malice, but he most certainly remains selfish, and he understands the power of influence/manipulation. He also is entitled and is particularly prone to  the lure of “get rich” style schemes or claims where people insist a product or person or religion worked magic on their lives.

I myself have a gullibility and fascination with finding products or strategies to improve my life, but I also have a very analytical side that really wants to understand how things work. That often saves me from being duped (fingers crossed) by schemes that somehow attract my brother. Anyway, the point is, I am a control freak, and the uncertainty of parenting forbids me from wanting to be a parent. Needless to say, I wigged out when my friend asked, and I declined.

Related: Sometimes people ask me, “What if you were to get pregnant today? What would you do?” Without hesitation, abort. There isn’t a single ounce of me that wants to take that shit on. I’m “unnatural” that way, as my mother has said.

So after our day with our friends, on the drive home, John brought up the guardian thing again. First, he was surprised that I had declined when I was asked weeks ago. They had actually first asked when they were preggers. I said no. I didn’t even consult or discuss with Bubs, bc you know I’d be doing the bulk of the work (just saying). I explained to Bubs that my reply (of no) was consistent with before. John argued that in one case, the question was technically hypothetical, bc the baby wasn’t yet born. Now, the baby is here. He also made some comment like life isn’t always about what YOU want; sometimes you do things you don’t want, bc that’s the right thing to do. Well, shit. I’m not about to be accused of NOT doing the “right” thing!! Then, he proceeds to say, if we really believe our close friends are the “family we choose for ourselves,” family would take in the orphaned child. Yeah, then I started driving crazy on 880, bc now I was totally preoccupied with this conversation. I like cut someone off, and J made some comment about my driving. Look dude. You know I can’t be having this heavy-ass conversation WHILE I am driving. WTF?????

The thing is though, J brings up some solid points. I guess I just have some expectation like they should ask family, or if not family, they should ask their friends who are already parents, bc those people are experienced and shit. The bottom line is, parenting scares me. As much as I have struggled with how my parents parented, there are times in my life, where I unknowingly carried forth their framework. I’ve blogged about it before: how I had so many expectations for John; how I loved him with conditions; how things he did were never good enough; how there was always so much room for improvement… these concepts drive me to be better, and yet they have also broken me so many damn times, bc I have fallen short of what I or he was supposed to be. Absolutely, I would be a Tiger Mom. I wouldn’t know how to relax and let the child just be a child. I would be the source of so much anxiety and paranoia. Those fucking genetics/cultural influences are just too freaking strong. And then J and I would clash with our parenting styles and philosophies… Sure, I’m responsible, dependable, and resourceful, but that’s just not enough. And on top of that, I don’t want to be a parent. So I suppose J and I continue to waffle on this. J points out that it is a way to honor our friends. They want peace of mind that their treasure will be cared for. J says circumstances are unlikely to necessitate this role for us. To me though, the probability doesn’t diminish what a huge deal this is. Now obviously, we’re not going to just stand by and watch kid go on to be orphan Annie or anything… But should we be the first choice? I just still have my reservations and phobias.