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I am raising a stranger’s child. How bizarre is our culture? I spend 50 hours a week with a tiny human who belongs to someone else.  I get her breakfast, brush her teeth, get her dressed, read and sing to her, teach her the ways of glue and pipe cleaners, take her out into the world, potty train her, hug her, kiss her, love her. I answer her never-ending questions, and “kiss it’ when she’s hurt. But she is not my child. Sometimes the whole situation makes me angry. I look at her and think, she is an incredible little girl, why am I the one who is doing all these things for her. 50 hours a week. Is it necessary? She is not an addition to someone’s life. She is not a box to be checked off in life. Done. Sacrifices are hard. They wouldn’t be called them if they weren’t. Children REQUIRE sacrifice. I am not talking about losing sleep, or listening to Rafi instead of the radio. Real, hard, sacrifice. Our culture hands our children off to someone else so that we can continue our own life as undisturbed as possible. I understand parents who have no choice but for both to work long hours so that food can be put on the table, and there can be a house to live in. I’m talking about people who if they ate out a little less, didn’t buy as nice of things, had a smaller house, could afford to not work as much to be with their children. 50 hours is a lot of time. Rant is over.

*edit* This post is in response to multiple times where there was the option to spend more time with their child, and they opted to read in their room, or take a nap. Also to conversations of not knowing how they would deal with the 1.5 hours they will be left alone with their new baby and toddler after I leave their house having spent the entire day alone with them…..

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