Must admit: I've got no idea...

I have been restless and conflicted for just a few months now with a question that may not seem entirely appropriate for some one my age, busy with a job and school full time. To preface, I have not questioned this for me now, but what I will do in a few years or so. I have been questioning whether I want children. This may be pretty a normal thought, and decision that is fine either way, and just a preference, but I’ve always assumed I wanted kids. Sort of defined myself in a large way by this. This was never a passive declaration, either. My mother would always remind me of how hard it can be to raise kids, no matter what your circumstances, and I always acknowledged that and thought it’d still totally be worth it. I was always entranced by parents’ complete devotion and unbelievable love they have for their children. Even after really disgusting actions, or frustrating days, they could kiss their child goodnight at 3 am after a long day and smile.
When I started talking to my mother nonstop about how I wanted kids, she got me babysitting, I think in hopes that I would be convinced I could raise a kid for another 30 years…well, that didn’t much work. I love babysitting, and I’m great with just about any age kid, and for a while my baby-fever got even stronger. Then, suddenly, I felt no urge whatsoever to have a kid, or coo over cute kids. I have no idea what brought this indifference on, or whether this will be a lasting feeling. I babysat for a quite adorable almost 2 year old the other day, for whom I’ve been babysitting since she was only a few months old, and I still adored her, and thought I’d be a great mom, but I didn’t really feel the need to take her home with me.
Suddenly, the idea of living the rest of my life for me has way more clout than I gave it before. The idea of all the money I make going to me, not school and diapers, is almost a strange thought to me. I see the house I live in with my brothers, and while it is priceless how we know each other and get along in such an odd rhythm, I consider the idea of what it would be like to have a house where the cabinets aren’t proofed, and socks aren’t found under the dining room table…

Who knows. I know I don’t have to decide this now, but it does tend to be a pretty defining trait sometimes, and I’d just like to figure out where I stand on the issue. I did always want a little girl, but living as an adult who can focus on what I want and not have to sit with the stollermoms has its appeal too…