It always angers me when people act like just because I don’t have a family now that I ‘ll never have one. When you see people and they say, “Won’t you regret not having kids?” or you talk about one day adopting them and they act like, “Oh that’s cute, but dumb little Candi, you will never have a family.” In fact, my brother even told me one day at my Memaw’s, “Oh, you will never get married, you might as well give that up.” Well, and you’ll never be smarter than me so give that up, too.
I always wanted to be somebody before I was somebody’s wife. Or somebody’s mother. I always wanted to write a book, speak fluent Spanish, before I had kids. And I always wanted to adopt them. Who’s to say I still won’t? I hate it when people treat me like my life is over or my dreams are over — because they’re not to me — just because you hadn’t popped out children by 26.
Which seems to be a small town requirement.
So, stop saying stupid stuff to single people just because they chose a different life than you.
My whole point of this wasn’t to rant at stupid questions asked at Dunkin Donuts, but to make a declaration. When you get my age, you’ve seen people name their kids just about every name that you have ever liked. And since people keep having kids in my family, these are my names for my adopted children that you will never ever steal (or I will cut you) — since you’ve taken so many other ones.
Ahhhm, Kennedy, Katherine — which I’m glad about because they’re perfect.
Since nobody else wants these anyway, I think they’re safe, but still… this is my declaration. You cannot have my names!
Chesney, Manning, Roosevelt, Summitt, Mandela, McNair.
Maybe, Clara or Coretta.
They all have a back story of perseverance behind the name of the inspiration. (Except Clara, it’s family.) And they are all mine.
As you now were, married people…
Candi is a lifelong reader, writer, Democrat, and kid keeper. She drinks coffee at midnight and schools men on sports. Follow her @CandiMathis on Twitter.