They go, oh, you hate children (159Cong.Rec.H4476)

A little while ago, I shared happy-hour drinks and snacks with a soon-to-be-on-orders EFM (eligible family member) of a recently inducted Foreign Service specialist. She was hoping I could shed some light on how her life was about to change. I spewed out a lot of advice before I finally had the wherewithal to ask: "Well, what are you most worried about?" Her response: "I'm afraid it'll be difficult to make friends."

I'm afraid that, on the fly, I didn't give her very good feedback. To be fair, making friends in the Foreign Service can be hard, for a variety of reasons -- short timeframes, difficult logistics, workplace pressures. But for me, in particular, one challenge certainly has been lifestyle choices. 

By my age, most people -- State and non-State -- are entrenched in family life. I'm too old -- and if I'm honest, too uncool -- to hang with the young single kids going clubbin' every night. (Is this a stereotype? Yes, one which I am allowed to espouse because I am old.) But the other segment of people at post usually is made up of parents. And unfortunately, because I don't have kids myself, this group stereotypes me, too, assuming that I don't want to hang with them either. 

In many places, I have found myself in this middle-age limbo. And almost every time, it has taken much effort on my part to dispel this misconception. So, let me put this out there to preempt any misunderstandings: I do not hate children. I do not hate being around children. I do not hate being around you because it will mean I have to be around children. Look, as proof, here I am with a child, and I am smiling. (It is duly noted that the child is not smiling.)

No, I don't adore children. I worked too long as a teacher, dealing with high-schoolers who acted like pre-schoolers, to adore them. But I get along with children. I can make faces at them and play games with them -- and I will even let them win. I was a devoted fan of The Babysitter's Club book series when I was younger, and I babysat a lot. So I can take care of children, too. I will wipe their snot and change their diapers.

But I will likely not do any of those things upon my own initiative. Because I've watched many outstanding parents, and I'm afraid I just can't obtain their level of skill and standards. Oh, trust me, I'm not judging you. If I had kids, I would be a pathological mess of insecurity, worrying about how I was ruining them. So I tend to stand back and let you take the lead.

These actions do not mean that I dislike being around you or your children. And it doesn't mean that I don't understand you as a parent. If I come to hang out with you, I know exactly what I am in for. I expect that only a portion of your attention will be focused on me. I expect that perhaps the majority of our interaction will be based on actions involving your children. I expect that we will be interrupted many times. I expect that I will be expected to help in these situations.

So, please, don't exclude me from invitations because you are afraid of my expectations. I think you are an extraordinary person for deciding to raise children, all while you have to manage shipments, obtain visas, get vaccinations, translate the FAM (Foreign Affairs Manual), learn the local language, and -- oh, yeah -- do your everyday job.

In return, I promise to extend invitations to you, even when I know it's highly likely you will have to refuse or bail due to parental reasons. I won't even hold it against you. I will be waiting for that night when the stars align, and you can feel like a young single again. I will even be willing if you need me to babysit, so you can go out clubbin' -- since that's what you kids are into these days.