Allergic to Kids


To add to the list of fears I already have, I discovered I may have a new one.  Well, it’s not a full fledged fear, it may turn out to be a strong aversion.   I will ferret it out soon enough with Elle.  

I have a fear of children, especially small children.   

Not my own kids of course.  I have a small child entering kindergarten and a teen at home.   My kindergartener is so feisty and energetic she’s is like 5 kids in one.  My teenage son is on the Autism Spectrum.  At times he can be a handful.  Between them, some days I feel like Michelle Duggar.  I love my kids dearly.  I’m pretty sure that they are used to me and all my quirks. 

Very small children are quite impulsive and because they lack social grace, they can potentially maim a person with their unapologetic truths and get away with it.  “Why is your hair turning gray now?”  “How come you have a stain on your shirt?” “Your car smells like tacos.”  Their very makeup, coupled with my severe anxiety and fragile self-esteem is not a good wedding.   Being around them feels like I am teetering on a tight rope a thousand feet up, waiting to fall off.  A constant pit in my stomach.  

I avoid young children every chance I get.  At playgrounds, parks, and of course at the school.  You never know what might pop outta their mouths.  I beg my fiancé to do to the pick-up and drop-off at our kids school for this very reason.

Like cats who seem to know the very people who don’t want them near but will make a beeline straight to them; small children seem to gravitate towards me.  They make me feel super anxious with how they stare at me, then badger me, wanting me to play imaginative games like dress-up and the dreaded “Paw Patrol.“  If I have to pretend to be one of those dogs again any time soon, I’m going to buy a one way ticket to Alaska to permanently hibernate.

I can’t stand it when they use my ass as ghouls for their game of tag or go running around me in circles as if I’m their Maypole.  Still worse,  getting asked by the teacher to sit at circle time at school… oh horror of horrors.  No one in good conscience can be their authentic cynical selves when a “Raffi” song is played and get away with saying out loud , “please wake me when this is over.”

When I really think on it, another factor in my avoidance of them is my depression.  One has to expend a ton of positive energy to be around small kids because that’s what they require.  They need happy positive role models.  I am the antithesis of that.   It would take me untold amounts energy to put on a facade to pretend to be something I’m not right now.  Hell, it takes a Herculean feat just to drag myself out of bed in the morning, brush my teeth, and pour cereal for my kiddos.

I’ve recently taken to buying paper plates, bowls,  and plasticware to streamline dinner and clean up.   See that’s what Big Pharma won’t tell you in their pretty little commercials about depression.  It really does impair functioning, I should know I’m the poster girl for it, but I digress.  

Back to the children.  I’m too anxious and depressed to be around most kids.    Well, most.   Maybe I could be fine around other kids of parents that are also struggling with anxiety and depression? Yeah I’d probably fit right in with them.  Those kids are probably okay with having another adult around who doesn’t have a constant ear to ear smile.  

Who knows if I am actually afraid of small children or just severely anxious and clinically depressed. It’s all a swirly mix of misfiring neurotransmitters.  One thing is for sure, If I don’t take the damn medication that my psychiatrist Dr. R prescribed, Hard Pill to Swallow  my world will be getting smaller and I am headed for Howard Hughes’s guest room .     

As an added bonus I’ve included a deep cut from Raffi and his Rise and Shine Band for all you die hard fans:


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