René Roberts

Disney is a really good theme for a nursery, right? That’s what my friend decided to go with. She has good taste. I mean she’s friends with me, isn’t she? Her boyfriend also happens to be the cutest thing on two legs. But I digress.

So, my friend has been doing some crazy online shopping, getting things ready for her unborn daughter. The theme is decided, provisional date confirmed, and the world in preparation. Now, my girlfriend and I were not destined for the gift of motherhood this time around. I say this time around, because I plan to stalk her every time I incarnate. She makes me so very happy and I don’t see why she can’t just stick around every time? I also plan on making her have babies for me in the next life. She knows this and it scares her. I think. Wow, I’m a little like Dory today.

Like I said, we don’t have kids, so we’ve decided to share my friends’ with them. They had no option. We’re on this journey with them whether they like it or not. At first I thought I’d be going it alone, but my girlfriends seems to have taken it up a notch. She is now the one touching every little girly outfit in every shop. I’m proud.

Being on this journey seeps into ones thoughts and before you know it, you’re thinking about raising kids in the world we live in. Yes, we get their rooms ready. We get our crazy talented sister to do a painting for the wall. We shop like a maniac and find ways to clear our crap out of the nursery to make space for more crap we bought for the baby. We stop drinking wine and start to whine. We work hard and we crash on the couch the minute we finally get home because our bodies are sharing nutrients.

We might lie awake at night wondering what school would be best or we might lie awake simply because it’s too hot and we’re too uncomfortable. We think about buying a bigger house because we’re already anticipating the precious moment she starts walking and running and jumping and climbing. She needs a puppy and we need a yard.

In short, everything we do becomes about preparing the world for baby Addison Annandale. Yes, good luck learning to write your name cutie. That’s going to suck.

Can we do that? Can we prepare the world for Addison?

Can we magically make it all stop? Can we find a way to make extremist groups see the error of their ways? Can we get people to stop being intolerant and ignorant? Can we force people to accept that we’re all so different while needing exactly the same things in life? Can we make governments accept responsibility for the wellbeing of their people? Can we find Addison a spot in this country where she can simply focus on being happy? Or will we have to teach her about being safe first?

Can we prepare the world for Addison? I think not. What we can do, is to prepare Addison for the world.

We can teach her that she was delivered to this world, fitted with all the ammunition to survive it. Nothing that comes her way will be too tough to handle. We can teach her that it’s pointless to look around us in fear when we can look inside us with hope. We can teach her about Ubuntu : people are people because of other people. We can teach her about finding beauty in strange places and we can teach her about being grateful above all else.

Her daddy is the kind of man that will teach her respect. The kind that’s not forced onto you, but harboured simply by watching him live. He will teach her that you don’t ever have to shout to be heard, but you need to be truly quiet to listen. Her mommy is the kind of person that will show her strength has nothing to do with muscle, but everything to do with making the tough decisions because you know they’re right. She’s the kind of person that will teach her daughter about perseverance and making it to the top without taking anyone down.

Me and my girlfriend?

We’ll teach her to order a cola tonic and lemonade instead of strawberry milkshake. We’ll teach her that everything in life is better with peanut butter. I, personally will teach her to always go with chocolate if it’s an option. We’ll teach her to read poetry and write a little bit. We’ll teach her to watch the series channel instead of Barney (purple dinosaurs are for crack heads). We’ll teach her that admiring art is just as important as creating it. I’ll teach her to sneak peas into her mother’s food simply because she hates it so much.

The world awaits, little one. Perfect in its imperfection.