Who do I love? My nieces.
When I had suicidal thoughts, I remember thinking that I just couldn’t do that too them. Couldn’t die. I knew they wouldn’t understand, but I really wanted to stay alive, so that I could watch them grow into the fine women, that I know they’ll become.
The oldest is seven (my sisters), let’s refer to her as A-M. Then there’s J. She turns four in march (my youngest older brothers) and last, but certainly not the least forgettable, C, who turns three on December 30th (my sisters).
I don’t know how it happened, but since A-M was born, I suddenly became the go-to when a babysitter was needed. I don’t mind really. I love spending time with them. They can however piss me off, and it’s not uncommon for me anymore to hear “Sooo. They said you were angry today.” In wich case I reply: “I wasn’t that angry!” But that was mostly before, you know. I’m babysitting them right now, even though I hate that word. I’m hanging out with them or something.
Honestly, I’ve always been scared to have children. But these aren’t mine so I can practice on them. Don’t tell my sister or brother. I wanna wait a couple of years. I’m not ready to be a mother, yet. But in the meantime I’ll just love the ones my siblings keeps bringing in to the world. My sister is pregnant with her third child, my oldest brothers girlfriend is waiting for their first child, and I’m waiting here to be announced as best aunt.