Baby Love...Or Not.

All right, kids. This one is starting with a big, fat disclaimer. This is my blog, and I get to say what I want, when I want. However, this is one of those topics that gets women riled up, and I don't want to hear it from them.

So, if you are pregnant, a mother, or hope to be one in the foreseeable future,
please click the little 'x' in the corner if you don't want to hear someone
less-than-thrilled about babies.

Now, since absolutely none of you closed out of this (either because you're going to agree with me,or you have a morbid desire to get insulted), here's the deal... I don't mind someone disagreeing with me. But, if you're going to get all huffy and angry and act like I'm some soulless baby-hating monster, you can keep it to yourself. Deal?


Good. Let's get started.


When I was in high school, I had my future all planned out. Graduate, go to college, meet Future Husband, and get married at 21 (because I wanted to be able to drink at my own wedding, dammit, and because I didn't want to look like I was having my own personal prom). We'd have our first kid at 23, second at 25, and I'd be a young, hip mom.

So much for that.

I turned 27 last month, and I am blissfully child-free. Husband and I got married when we were both 23, which is crazy young for anyone who didn't grow up where I did. Half of my friends got married before they were 20, and I'm going to keep my fat mouth shut on the state of 70% of those marriages.

When we got married, I figured we'd have our first kid two years later. Clay planned on five years, and we settled right around three. In a funny (or not) reversal, I became more and more baby-averse the longer we were married.

[This is not a reflection on my husband by any means. He will be an incredible father, and I love him more than words can express. He will be the reason we eventually become parents, not the reason we don't.]


Simply put, I like my life. I like that we can come and go as we please, and only consult each other. I like that we can stay up late (or, more commonly, go to bed early) and sleep as long as we'd like. I like cracking open a bottle of wine on a Friday night and playing video games until 2am. Also, I like my boobs and don't relish the thought of having a kid deflating them until they look like tennis balls in socks.

Also, I can't stand a majority of kids. Toddlers snatching your iPhone out of your hands with their grubby little fingers so they can play Angry Birds? Oh, hell no. Screaming babies in restaurants? Pass. "Dora the Explorer"? Never never never never never never never.


They just bug me. I mean, I get it--they're kids. They cry, they demand attention, they're fussy. But I'm not into it. I don't want to hear your story about your Star Wars figurine, kiddo. Why don't we watch the movie and you can keep your story to yourself? I don't need you interrupting my conversation to take you to the potty. And I absolutely LOATHE the word "potty."


Most of you are sitting here thinking, "That'll change. Eventually, you'll have kids and you'll wonder why you didn't have them sooner. You'll love their grubby little hands and their stories and all that." I probably will--to a point. My kids will hopefully have no idea of children's programming other than Sesame Street. (Except Elmo--that little monster is obnoxious). And they won't be learning about the Wheels on the Bus until they're in school.

However, for the last year or so, I've been telling people I don't want kids at all. Mainly because people are so damn hard-nosed about convincing me to have them. And I resent the implication that my life will be less-than-fulfilling because I didn't procreate.

I have about six friends that have had babies in the last few months. Some of them were chill through their pregnancies and have been laid back since they've had the kids. And others have posted 4-5 pictures a day of their baby on Facebook, all the way down to diaper explosions and a series of 50 pictures showing a baby on a couch. Doing nothing. These women (like so many pregnant women) have a hard time realizing that no one finds their baby as life changing and amazing as they do.

I read an article recently on pregnant women that discussed this myopic vision of life. They are living with this pregnancy and the anticipation of their unborn child all day, every day. And they have a hard time understanding that no one else is living with that and grow resentful of people who don't squeal over every sonogram picture and baby kick. Friends, colleagues, even family members get run over by the Baby Express Train because they didn't react "appropriately."

[I won't even start on the Judgy Moms. You know who I'm talking about. Those moms who use social media to rant about breastfeeding, or co-sleeping, or circumcision, or potty training. These women get deleted from my friends list so quickly, it would make your head spin.]



Eventually, I'm sure the Pill will fail, or we'll get to the point that we actually want to have a kid. And, when that happens, I can only hope I'm as cool about it as people like my friend Laura. She had her daughter a few months ago, and has been amazingly laid-back about it, as if people do this every day.


You know, because they do.



This went absolutely nowhere, and yet, it could have gone on for hours. After a few drinks not too long ago, I actually did go on for a few hours about it to Clay. It ended with me deciding that, when we do have kids, it will be for two reasons:
1. Because I want something I can name, and
2. Because I want to prove that, like Laura, you don't have to be a douche about it.



I'll leave you with a video that best describes my feelings on having kids right now. When I get pregnant, please make me watch this video weekly.

http://youtu.be/tJRzBpFjJS8