“Oh my gosh, you will never believe what Joseph did yesterday… That’s nothing my Sophie did that 3 weeks ago.. What? That’s not healthy you can’t let them.. But he just won’t stop crying I’ve tried everything.”
And the incessant need to talk about their children.
I sit there thinking, yeah I could participate.. I could also push toothpicks under my fingernails.
That comment that simultaneously puts you down and pushes you out, it’s like the scissor kick of the parental world.
“You’ll understand when you’re a mother”
(Where are those damn toothpicks?!)
As soon as I mention the little person in my life I’m most proud of I get those strange looks of confusion, oh yeah I’m the weirdo for gloating about how my dog just learned a new trick.
That’s an actual accomplishment, I taught an animal that has no understanding of the English language to retrieve an item I threw, just for fun
Ohhh Sally nearly took her first step?.. And at only 10 months old?! How interesting she’s doing the exact thing that pretty much every species has down pat in the first days of their life.. Only after ten months of sitting around thinking about it.
Please my dog could run circles around your kid, literally.
(I can also leave her at home alone while I go out to a nice dinner and movie without Child Services breathing down my neck)
Now I can put up with all that talk about what their child is eating, playing with and stuffing up their nose but there is one thing that I will not stand for.
Children’s birthday parties.
Not the fun ones from like 8 and up, they’re awesome, jumping castles and face painting that’s just plain fun.
I mean like the ones up until then. When the kid is just realising that it has toes and is fascinated by the crumpling of paper.
There is nothing more annoying and boring than those birthday parties.. And I mean nothing. I would rather listen to Hannah Montana recite the periodic table than go to one. But for some reason it’s an expectation of every mother that you attend a party for their child that won’t ever remember you being there.
You could give the kid an empty chip packet and they would be just as impressed.
Rather than spend weeks of your time and hundreds of dollars, organising food the kid can’t eat yet, music they can’t understand and decorations they certainly couldn’t give a shit about. All so you can invite your friends to rub their faces in the fact that you made this borderline appealing offspring.
Again women have been having children for literally thousands of years what you’re doing here isn’t new. At least the women back in previous centuries saw children for what they were, unavoidable repercussions of obligatory marriages. I would put money on the fact that if you showed those chicks a form of contraception there would be a lot less of us today. Let’s face it education and life experiences beat the possibility of dying from childbirth any day.
Now for most of my life I have been pretty sure that this is how it’s going to be. Just me. The only problem with my logic now is the fact that my boyfriend has always wanted a family. He completely understands my view on this matter and we have even had the dreaded talk. I told him how I felt and he explained his thoughts and we sat there in silence for a really long time. Waiting for the other one to say the obvious. Maybe we aren’t right for each other. Just as unfair as it is for him to expect me to want kids I can see how it’s also really unfair for me to ask him to give up the family he always dreamed of. Just as I thought that horrible reality was going to break us apart he said the most selfless and loving sentence anyone has ever said to me.
“I love you, the you right in front of me, that I have loved for the past 5 years way more than I love the possible child in my imagination.”
Right then at that moment I had an earth shattering realisation. If he is prepared to entertain the idea of not having a child because of how much he loves me than surely I could at least think about maybe, possibly one day giving in to this motherhood cult following. Compromise we said, yeah well I guess only time will tell if I’m up to the task. The one thing we both agreed on is that there is no way we are having this child until we are 100% ready and lived our lives as independent adults as much as we can.
I can assure you though that if the day ever comes there will be none of this stay at home mum stuff going on. As soon as that kids out I’m back to work enjoying my adult conversations and career building achievements and my partner is more than happy to stay home dealing with the poo , snot and regular feeding of that future nightmare, I joke, I mean bundle of joy…
You may think I’m being a bit harsh or over the top but I beg to differ. I am only 24 and I cannot stand anymore shocked and pitiful looks when I say “No, I don’t want to have children” with the almost guaranteed response “Don’t worry you’ll change that maternal instinct will kick in eventually”. What is this expectation of society that just because I have a vagina that I should have an ingrained drive to procreate, or gush at the sight of every fat-faced snotty nosed kid that I come across? I’m sorry but it was a waste of time giving me a uterus God, you probably would have been better off giving it to my boyfriend.