here i sit, using my day as i please, in coffee d'vine. i am here so i am not elsewhere; i am here because i cannot tolerate my mother's antics. some things are better left out of print.

there are two small boys playing on the carpet a few yards from me. one looks to be about three or four, and the other appears to be less than two, maybe 16 or 18 months. they are playfully spreading dominoes about the carpet, occasionally squealing or babbling to one another or to their mother. it doesn't seem to matter that the dominoes aren't being used as they were meant to be; simply throwing them around and hearing the clatter of plastic on plastic is enough to entertain and please these boys. after ten or twnety minutes of play, their mother starts to help them clean up. the boys do not protest; instead they help replace the dominoes. the younger one begins to cry as his brother puts the box back on the shelf, but he quickly settles as his mother picks him up and consoles him. they make a smooth, silent exit.

i'm not facing the door, as i usually do when i'm here. instead, i face the mirror; i have no need to watch the high-schoolers cavort and compare loud, obnoxious ringtones. i would prefer to hear the conversations of the patrons; to see a little into their lives and to learn a little more about humanity. i can see everyone who enters via the mirror's reflection; i am content ust as i am.

brian and i were at pizza hut last night. a party of eight sat down next to us; half were children, all under the age of ten. there was a small baby there, and she couldn't have been more than two months old. so tiny, so dependent. she made me remember when riley and andrew were so small, and how dependent they were on us. to bring a child so small, so helpless, so untouched by the world into relative chaos from the safety and security of the womb seems almost cruel. how must the infant feel? it's not their choice to come into our chaotic mess of a world; it is our choice to bring them here. is that fair to an untouched soul? is it right to want children simply for the sake of wanting them? for the sake of wanting to be a parent? for the sake of wanting to nurture them? is it right to want children for your own personal reasons? it seems almost selfish to have children simly for your own personal emotional, economic, or psychological gains, no matter how focused you seem on the child's welfare. to put it bluntly, it's a shitty world; why bring an innocent into it?
another thing has crossed my mind. i tried talking to brian about human nature/apparent lack thereof the other day, and he stated that people are often products of their role models. i.e., "no matter how much i don't want to, i find myself acting like my dad." obviously, this also applies to me; i find myself imitating my mother without fully realizing it. this has me worried. as much as i love my mother, her parenting style leaves much to be desired, and i dislike how hot-tempered she can be at times. i don't want t end up like my mother; i don't want to raise a child to be similar to myself. i'm pretty messed up myself, and i don't want to foster an environment similar to the one i grew up in. i don't want to be abusive; i don't want to lash out at my kids; i don't want to be a shitty mom. i don't want to be a disappointment to myself, my spousse, or my children. yet another reason to reconsider my plans as a prospective mother.
when people ask me if i want kids, they usually recieve a big grin and a "hell yeah." when i tell them how many i want, i usually get a "you're catholic, huh?" despite this situation, i know i'll be a shitty mom. i know i'll be a disappointment to someone sometime. i just hope it's not my kids.

final question: given the above, should i have children? should anyone?

signed, praying for wisdom