Now that I am married, a lot of people take for granted that I am just bursting at the seams to start popping out kids. Like this Christmas when someone commented that I was going back for, oh I don’t know, maybe my second…possibly third plate.. (cranberry salad, who wouldnt?!) and my Aunt said, “Oh, leave her alone, she’s probably eating for two.”
YES. That is the most logical conclusion. Not that I am partaking in the sin of gluttony and then hope to pass out in the back room to escape you people. Clearly, pregnant.
The thing is, I really love kids. a lot. I love when they say funny things and when they run around and push each other down stairs and stuff. I have three little brothers and I very much enjoy babysitting them. I love when I put on jewelry and Zachy says “Sissy, you look fab-u-lous.” I like when Ben holds one hand over his nose and then picks it with the other hand because he thinks he is sooo sneaky.
BUT. The big thing here is that the thought of actually being responsible for a kid of my own TERRIFIES me. not like, oh look, there’s a giant spider crawling towards my head scared. Like holy shit, there is a clown standing over my bed with a chainsaw and Bon Jovi is playing in the background and why are there disco dancers everywhere kind of scared.
I don’t even have an attention span long enough to keep plants alive, much less a human being. Besides, I live in a den of drugs and prostitution, and I hardly think that is an appropriate environment for an impressionable young mind. But, every so often my brother will say something so ridiculously funny and sweet, or I will see a baby that isn’t screaming or those witty little onesies that say things like, “Adopt me Angelina!” and then begins the aching of the ovaries.
So, to quell the aching, I have compiled a list of all the reasons I know I am not ready to have kids. (God, if you’re reading, please consider this and don’t let the birth control fail.)
1. A little while ago I was watching my 6 year old brother and he absolutely refused to put his coat on. As he ran away (sans coat) he tripped and then turned around with that “I’m not sure if I’m going to cry or not, I’m improvising as I go here, ok?” kind of look, and without blinking what came out of my mouth was: “Jesus made you fall because you wouldn’t put your coat on.”
2. Pat and I believe in an open door policy. This conversation ACTUALLY HAPPENED the other day. (Note, if you think, or would like to believe that girls don’t poop, please skip over this section and go on to number 3. Please also know that you are a moron.)
S: Get out of the bathroom, I have to go.
P: Well I have to shave, so just go.
S: I have to poop.
P: Your poop totally smells like breakfast cereal. It smells like Toasted Cheerios.
S: Could be worse.
P: Actually it’s making me hungry for cereal.
Now that you are traumatized, imagine the trauma that sort of daily information would cause in a child. and also the social setbacks to having parents who poop in front of each other and talk about it.
3. I still occasionally have sex in the car. I don’t think that is something that responsible parents do. My parents never did (dont you DARE contradict me). and not just accidently, sometimes in the car in the parking lot, right in front of my apartment. Yes, it might be easier to just go inside, but sometimes you just want car sex, damnit!
4. Which brings up my next point, the language around my house is not G-rated. There are times (occurring more and more frequently, I find) that neither of us can express ourselves without a wide variety of words of the four-letter variety. Typical at home conversation:
“Hi honey, how was your day?”
“yeah.. me too.”
And let’s be honest, if we remove those words, one of us (I’m not saying who PATRICK) would have to be completely mute.
5. But really, the actual reason I know I’m not ready to have kids is because I am too emotionally screwed up right now, thanks in part to my psycho parents, to ever be able to provide the sort of consistent support and love that I would want to, need to give to a child. I know how crippling it is to be the child of young, careless parents who didn’t think of children as individual people with needs, didn’t really think at all, but just had kids because that is what you do. Having a family is a short term fix to make everything look ok. If you need a child to love you, then you are not ready to have one. I will not do that to a child. maybe someday I will be ready, but not now.
Now what to say to the eager Aunt?