Chances Are Good that I Will Fuck Up

While I feel like it's unfair that people judge my life choices now, I know the grass isn't greener on the other side. Having kids means everyone will judge every move you make. I'm only vaguely aware of the Mommy Wars but I know enough to know I want no part of them. Apparently all the mommies are keen on judging one another for choices about breastfeeding, co-sleeping, TV watching, organic food, staying home with the kids, not staying home with the kids, cloth diapering, vaccinations and more. Who needs that kind of aggravation?

I can only imagine the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that whatever choices I was making about raising kids would be the wrong ones and somehow I'd manage to raise a complete social misfit.

Beyond the petty arguments about the pros and cons of homeschooling, there are more black and white ways parents screw up all the time and I could definitely be guilty of those mistakes. Nearly every parent I've ever known (my own included) has admitted that they, at least once, lost their child some place. Everyone I know personally was lucky enough to get their children back, but what about the parents who don't? Turn your eye for a second and poof, your kid could vanish. That kind of stress and responsibility is not for me. I get queasy when I misplace my cellphone. I can't imagine misplacing a human.

I don't want the physical and emotional well-being of another human entirely dependent on my ability to do all the right things at all times. I want the option to occasionally fuck up and not have to worry about hurting anyone else. I, along with the rest of society, tend to go a lot easier on people when their stupid moves hurt no one but themselves. As soon as a kid enters into the equation as a possible victim, everyone's ready to break out the pitchforks and torches. I'm not saying I disagree with society. Kids are an awesome responsibility and people who have them should consider this above all else. I am just saying I don't want that responsibility for myself.

Sometimes Babies Cause Rashes

"Joanne Mackie, 28, developed agonising blisters and an excruciating rash shortly after giving birth to son James... Doctors had been baffled by Mrs Mackie's condition, but a skin biopsy revealed a diagnosis of Pemphigoid Gestationis - a rare skin disease caused by an allergic reaction to her baby."

Yep, this is definitely what I want, an excruciating rash. If my stretched out vag isn't enough to turn on my husband, I am sure a festering rash will do that trick.

Perfectionists Do Not Make Good Parents

Flickr via i_yudai

One of the things that freaks me out about having kids is that so much can go wrong with your child. I know I'm probably not cut out to be a caregiver for a small child, but what I'm really not cut out for is caring for a special needs child. I've seen the way parents of disabled children provide care and advocacy with saintly patience and compassion. I also know I can't do that.

I don't want to imagine the emotional and financial toll of a special needs child. You can forget the dream of them taking care of you in old age. You'll spend the rest of your life taking care of them and making preparations to see to their care after you're gone. (Oh and you'll be busy hoping and praying that even if you do put aside all the money in the world for their care after you're gone, that the care they get is good enough. We all know about the horror stories of patients dying from infected bed sores at even the most expensive nursing homes.)

I'm always amazed at the way parents of special needs children can continue to be proud of them and adore them endlessly. I admire their devotion and strength of character, but I realize these are qualities I don't possess. I'd feel resentful. I'd feel annoyed. I'd feel impatient. I'd feel bitter. Maybe other people in that situation have those feelings and they won't cop to it. I wouldn't blame them. I know that's how I'd feel. My tolerance for imperfection is low and my disappointment at what I'd consider a deeply flawed child would be difficult to conceal.

An even more distressing possibility than an obvious mental or physical disability is one you don't find out about until it's too late. Every homicidal maniac the public wants to see tarred, feathered and electrocuted has a mother. Their poor mothers will probably spend the rest of their lives wondering where they went wrong and feeling guilt over all the atrocities committed by their kid. I don't want the possibility of having to tearfully explain to a reporter that junior was always such a good child.

If my fear of having a special needs child were the only thing holding me back maybe I'd take my chances, but since my list of reasons to remain child-free is long, this paranoia just adds another reason to the lot of them.

Damned if I Do, Damned if I Don't

Getty Images

When you make the decision to have kids, you have a few childcare options and all of them pretty much suck.

Option 1: You stay at home with your baby
Awesome, my husband gets to spend all day having stimulating conversations with adults while I'm up to my elbows in dirty diapers. My only mental stimulation is Blues Clues. I spend my day talking in a high pitched baby talk trying to coax first words out of my infant or worse yet having inane conversations with my toddler about why she can't eat cookies for breakfast. My husband comes home dressed in clean clothing with stories from the outside world and I regale him with stories of the shape and color of our offspring's bowel movements.

My professional options and earning potential dwindle as years pass with me away from the workforce. I eventually succumb to a life of semi-indentured servitude, wherein I clean, cook and care for children while my husband holds the purse strings, and probably eventually leaves me for a less dumpy, less saggy younger woman who isn't wearing supportive granny panties and covered in spit up. I wind up bitter, frumpy, and alone in my mom jeans with no career prospects and unable to support my brood.

Option 2: Your spouse stays home with your baby
Now the shoe is on the other foot. I spend all day slogging though con-calls and emails and come home to a disheveled, tired, cranky spouse who's spent the entire day listening to our kid scream. He looks like crap, he hasn't shaved, he has nothing interesting to say to me. I resentfully wonder why, if he's been home all day, the dishes are mountain-high in the sink. What the hell would I know about it any way? I don't spend all day with a baby, so I don't realize you can't be expected to get through a mountain of dishes with a baby screaming at you about his diaper rash and ear infection. I go to bed sexually unsatisfied every night and eventually wind up fucking someone at work.

Option 3: Daycare
Sure, g'head, entrust the care of your not-yet-able-to-speak offspring to strangers you know nothing about. These people are probably being paid minimum wage and no benefits to look after a dozen or more kids they have no personal stake in. As you can imagine, the incentive is certainly there to do an excellent job.

Look, I don't care if the marketing material for the daycare says they have a Montessori philosophy. I don't care if their waiting list is 2 years long and you put your kid on it while she was in utero. I don't care if you're paying over $1000.00/month. Think about how your $1000/month breaks down into hourly pay and then think about the kind of job you'd be motivated to do for the same kind of income.

These people will forget to apply diaper cream. These people will leave your baby lying on its back for hours staring at the ceiling with no stimulation, inhibiting her mental development. They will leave your kid to crap his pants in his Pull Ups rather than taking him to the toilet because it's easier for them. So what if you are trying to toilet train. They will feed your kid with nut allergies trail mix. They will try to introduce your child to Jesus, no matter how many times you try to tell them you are Jewish. Heck, they'll probably tell your Jewish child she's going to hell for not accepting Jesus as her personal savior. Enjoy spending your few hours between work and sleep trying to explain the psychology of religion to someone who still wears diapers.

I once heard an acquaintence lamenting the fact that her 1 year old routinely returned from daycare with bitemarks on her arms and legs. Apparently one of the other children in the daycare had a biting problem. She'd spoken to the daycare workers about it several times but with so many kids to look after they can't keep an eye on everyone all the time.

The fact of the matter is, no one is going to do a better job of taking care of your child than you or a family member who loves your child. If you place your kid's well-being above your career or financial independence, your life is going to suffer in some other way. You're basically screwed no matter what you choose, unless you happen to be one of those rare, lucky people that can evenly share the power and responsibility of breadwinning and childcare equally with your partner. My husband and I are not in that position and even if we were, it's not how we'd want to spend our time. For us, the reality is that all child-rearing scenarios sound like a trap and we don't want in.

Other People's Kids Suck

The other night my husband and I were visiting with his aunts and uncles and they were reminiscing about all the friends their children had that they hated the most. This reminded me of times my mother openly complained to me during my teen years about friends I had that she did not care for. My husband and I shot each other a knowing look. It was a "this is why I don't have a kid" look.

Your kids bringing home rotten friends is a universal problem. At some point your kid is going to like a child who is rude, bratty, ill-behaved, destructive and an all-around bad influence. Your kid will make friends with a kid who wants to get drunk, feed your dog chocolate, shoplift, start fights, engage in a threesome, bully other kids and who knows what else. The bad behavior possibilities are endless.

I don't really want to spend my days and nights worrying non-stop about how peer pressure-proof I've managed to make my child. It's simply not enough for you to tell your kid smoking and cutting school are bad things to do. You have to worry about someone far cooler than you telling your kid otherwise. As much and I'd like to think I could raise a good kid, I remember all the questionable things I did in my youth, despite my parents urgings to do otherwise. I don't think there's anything my parents could have said or done to change any of my missteps. My friends' influence was powerful and my parents were the enemy. The last thing I ever want is to raise a little mini-me who'd try to get away with sneaking out of the house, fooling around with her boyfriend while I was at work, or raiding my liquor cabinet for boozy middle school sleepovers.

What's most disconcerting is I was pretty much a "good" kid. I scored straight As and got a scholarship to a top university. I did volunteer work with the elderly. I wrote thank you notes. I survived my childhood and teen years with no drug habits, accidental pregnancy or arrest record. I don't even want to find out what happens if you're unfortunate enough to have one of the not-so-good ones.

Parents Can Be as Bratty as Their Kids

Kids can be total brats. I've seen them thrashing about and screaming in Target because they didn't get a toy they wanted. I've seen them rudely comment on a stranger's limp while out in public. I certainly personally experienced them acting like rotten little bullies back when I was a kid. I can't entirely blame the kids though. Bad kids don't just happen, they are a product of bad parenting. The bad news is once you have kids you're going to be forced to interact with some really bratty parents.

Currently, when I meet bratty adults I usually have the option to avoid them. I don't have to put up with their bullshit because my kid doesn't want to go to their kid's sleepover and my kid is not on their kid's little league team. Sure I run into the occasional grown up behaving badly at the store or a bar, but I can just leave. I don't have ties to these people. Once you have kids, you're in for many years of hanging around with other parents.

Just how badly behaved are today's parents? Have a look at this article about the disturbing modern trend in parenting, wherein the child's self-esteem is paramount and good manners are of little concern.

I have no desire to attend Mommy and Me with some bitch who refuses to teach her child to share. I don't want to enjoy an afternoon coffee with anyone who thinks it is remotely acceptable for her child to deliberately trip people in restaurants. I dislike bratty adults but what's worse is watching them create demonic mini-mes right before your eyes. I'd rather hide out in my child and parent-free bubble avoiding this problem altogether.

Kids Will Fuck Up Your Sex Life

Alright, maybe parents do get it on, but if it involves trips to the kid-friendly sex shop and trading in your vibrator for a more child friendly rubber ducky version, count me out! Sex is supposed to be sexy and trolling the kid-friendly sex store complete with diaper changing stations, “Sexy Moms” products, and stroller accessible aisles makes my boner shrivel.

In general, parents seem to develop weird ideas about boundaries. My baby-having friends cheerfully regale me with tales of nipple infections and mucous plus. I see parents acting entitled to bring their tykes to 5 star restaurants on a Saturday night. It comes as no surprise to me that there are parents out there expecting sex shops to cater to them as well.

A lot of what I write in this blog might leave readers the impression that I'm a self-centered jerk because I think martinis and Manolo Blahniks are a higher priority than child-rearing. The truth is part of what turns me off about becoming a parent is the self-centered behavior I see in most parents.

I don't want to become one of those assholes that thinks the world should bend for me because I squeezed out a kid. I don't want to be the one terrorizing airline passengers and grocery store patrons with my screaming spawn. I don't want to be hogging the sidewalk with my monster SUV stroller, running joggers and other pedestrians into the street. If you're one of the few parents out there who doesn't act like a self-important douche, that's great but you're a rarity. I'm not sure I could be as well-behaved while dealing with the demands of parenting and I'd rather not find out.