Resisting

Resisting

For my whole life people would always say to me how good I was with kids. They were convinced I’d marry and have children young.  That is, of course, what girls in the South are supposed to do. I had created this vision of my future: Meet my husband junior year of college, get engaged senior year, get married right after graduation, be married for a 1 year, then have baby #1, two years later baby #2… etc. So by the time I was 30 I would have 4 kids. Just in time to adopt #5 in my early 30s. Oh and my husband would be wealthy enough for me to be a stay-at-home mom. College would be a time-filler for me until my real life as a stay-at-home mom began. Said plan of course, did not exactly play out like that…

For as long as I can remember, I volunteered in the nursery at church. Then, when I was 11 years old, my mom found out she was pregnant with my sweet baby brother! I became the “built in babysitter”, which I loved. As my friends played with baby dolls, I played with a real live baby! I loved babies, and was strangely good with them, and really all kids.

I also loved to make my own money. Independence was something I prided myself off of. Partially because I am gifted in the area of responsibility, partly because I was self-protecting because of abuse I had encountered for years (rest of that story for another time). My means of making money was babysitting. I watched basically anyone and everyone’s kids. Little did I know, I was gaining invaluable knowledge about how kids work.

I went through high school doing two main things: hanging out with my friends and watching other people’s kids. However, if someone ever told me I should be a teacher, I quickly rejected that suggestion. Why? Because teachers don’t make any money! Plus, what a cliché occupation for a white girl who was never really good at anything else- no sports, no arts, nothing… just kids. I attempted to pursue becoming a doctor- I wanted to be an OBGYN. I watched the Discovery Health Channel and was enthralled by childbirth. However, I had two big problems: 1. I was terrible at math and science. 2. I hated the idea of being in school until I was 30, because like I mentioned earlier, that didn’t quite fit into my timeline- so having my own kids would have to suffice.

What was I supposed to do? As college neared, I had no idea what I was going to study. It’s funny and sad how great the pressure is for a 16 or 17 year old to choose what they want to do for the REST OF THEIR LIFE. I applied to a state university because I had friends going there. I got accepted. But I had one problem, one thing holding me back- a boy. And yes, he should be called a boy, not man, for we were only 17 and far too young to try to align our lives with each others. But I was convinced he would be my husband. At the time I would have never admitted that the reason I stayed in Nashville was for him. It’s funny that sometimes you look back and realize the humor in it all. God had to use something I would pay attention to to get me to follow his leading, because Lord knows, I wouldn’t have stayed for any other reason.

So, Community College it would be. I had friends going there, so that part was okay with me. And, said boy was also attending the school. It was definitely fun. The classes weren’t very hard. I was able to nanny for a family, go to school and keep up an avid social life.

But that couldn’t, and wouldn’t, last forever, and deep down I knew it! I wouldn't be able to resist the call for much longer.