kidlets

Sometimes when I'm feeling lonely, I really want someone to hug and my arms and chest seem to ache with emptiness. Usually, the indeterminate someone I'm wishing for is close to my age, but this week it's been someone much smaller. Maybe it was playing with the gorgeous and delightful LG and Baby Blue on Monday that got me thinking about wanting kids; plus passing the library just as storytime let out and sitting next to two groups of cute kids yesterday, who were so excited to be riding the bus and watching the "movie" passing by the windows (one little boy was so beautiful, with thick blond curls and dark, chocolatey brown eyes; I was probably being creepy, staring at him for too long).
I wish I were one of those people who are good with children and animals. Whenever I see a dog I long to stop and pat it. I'm too scared of being annoying to talk to the owner, though, so I always just hope dogs will be badly behaved enough to come over to me, because that's the only way I get a chance to pat them. The same goes for babies and little kids, but generally they're well trained not to talk to strangers (which is a good thing). Occasionally, though, a baby will grab my hair or something, and the parent will apologise profusely, even though I'm actually delighted.
Even if I kind of know the kids, I'm still too worried about being scary or annoying to play with them. I worry because I know how I hated it as a kid when I was expected to talk to, or worse, hug, some random adult I supposedly knew. When my lab, including my advisor's family, went on an outing, I was surprised how much it annoyed me to see adults, and even older kids, try to talk to my advisor's kids, and then, when the kids didn't respond, make some comment about them being shy. It seems unfair to label the kids as shy just because they don't want to talk to the random people asking how old they are. Of course, that made me more reluctant to try to talk to them, or even hold their hand going down the stairs. The littlest one was having fun playing with my hair, though, which was nice.
When I was home last, my mum's pseudo-step-granddaughter was visiting a lot and luckily she was young enough to need someone holding/watching her all the time, and placid enough not to mind too much who it was, so I got to hold her a lot (it was also a nice excuse to avoid actually talking to any of the grown-ups). Next time I go home, though, she'll be old enough to be wary of strangers and probably verbal and mobile enough to want more entertainment than I can provide.
I got a few comments about whether I was getting clucky, since I spent so much time with her. I tried to laugh them off, but it made me sad, because I can't see myself having the opportunity to have kids of my own. I've written before about how impossible it seems that I could ever be in a relationship with someone who could be a co-parent, and I wouldn't want to inflict myself as sole parental influence on a child. My brothers are both planning to have kids at some point, so I've tried to comfort myself with the idea of being the fun aunt. The problem with that, of course, is that I'm not really the fun aunt type.
The only way I can relax and not be constantly worrying about whether I'm annoying someone, is if I know it won't really make a difference if I am. This means the only people I can shut off at least some of the abusive inner voice with are my mum and my little brother (and S). The most relaxed and playful I can remember being was when my little brother was small. I was more relaxed with other people then too, but I really loved playing with him. I don't think I could be so uninhibited with someone else's kids.
I think my motivation for wanting children is entirely selfish, though. When I was 9 or so and my little brother was 3, we were at some long concert or something and he was tired and grumpy. I tried to comfort him and get him to put his head on my lap to sleep, but he wanted mum, not me. I felt hurt and rejected, even though I knew it was reasonable that he wanted her. I told myself that one day I'd have my own kids and they'd want me. It seems like a terrible reason to want children, though; just to have someone who loves me best.
I know there are other reasons, but they all seem selfish, too. Especially when what's making me think about them is the craving for a little kid hug.