I’ve always had the idea that me and kids would not go well together. I don’t feel comfortable around them. The incessant crying, immobility, and inevitable filth are too much for me. Everybody always says that it’s different when it’s your own, and maybe it is. But what if it’s not? What if I don’t have the necessary patience to raise a person? I have a dog…that’s kind of close, right? I have had the idea for years now, that once I got married, I would wait AT LEAST one year, if not more, to adjust to marriage and prepare for children. A new marriage is stressful enough on its own; getting used to living with someone new, having brand-spanking-new responsibilities, dealing with finances, etc. The last thing I want to do is multiply that about infinity by introducing a baby into the equation.
Lately, it seems that I have not been able to escape the fact that everyone around me has small children. Whether it’s friends or family, my social circles are flooding with miniature people running around. (Figuratively.) I have been married for roughly six months, and I’m gonna say it…I’m coming around to the idea. The keyword there is “IDEA.” I’m intrigued by the THOUGHT of having a baby. I see all the fun and cute stuff when people bring their miniature versions around and I think to myself, “Self, that looks nice.” Creating life, decorating a nursery with totally righteous decor, dressing them in cute baby clothes, witnessing milestones like hearing their first laugh, taking their first steps, and landmarks like teaching them how to talk/count/read, laughing at the pure craziness that comes out of their mouths, and signing them up for pee-wee sports.
And I won’t lie to you, it’s tempting to think about. My wife and I have names picked out already. We will have one biological son, then adopt one daughter (with the good Lord willing). In case of emergency, I have backup ideas for another boy’s name. If we end up with two girls, the poor little princess will be forever known as Bill. I’m joking…kind of. Bill is not the backup boy’s name, but there are no backup girl’s names (that I know of). And no, I’m not gonna tell you what the names are. Recently, we’ve been discussing the possibility of eventually buying our first house. Obviously, we would like to plan ahead and find something that will be big enough for our current needs, as well as our future expansions. We’ve engaged in dialogue concerning the neighborhood, school systems, community programming, yada yada yada. We have even purchased our first baby toy! (Please don’t tell my mom…I’ll never hear the end of it!) While shopping for a friend’s baby shower, my wife brought home a baby toy in the shape of a guitar. In place of the strings there is a rattler, and instead of volume and tone knobs, there are push buttons that play pretty rockin’ versions of lullabies. I have also had the idea to make a fairly high-level production video for my unborn children. I thought it would be kinda neat to make a fairy tale for my kids along the lines of the 3 Little Pigs. But not just any 3 Little Pigs, no…Green Jelly’s version of 3 Little Pigs. As in 90’s grunge rock band, Green Jelly. (Google it.) My thought is to record myself playing the guitar part, layering that with the original recording, creating stick figures of the three pigs, big bad wolf, the three houses, and , of course, Rambo, and then videotaping my own version of the video to play for my kids when they are old enough to appreciate all of my hard work and can handle the storyline. Pretty righteous and kickass, I know.
My older brother (& only sibling) has declined to have kids. That leaves all the attention and pressure from my mom bestowed upon me to provide her precious grandchildren. She has been begging and pleading with me for the better part of 10 years now. I’ve been married less than one at this point. You can see the annoyance I have been dealt. Now that I am married, nothing has changed (in that regard). But instead of it only being my mom that hounds me incessantly, everyone else feels the necessity to bring up “the big question.” Any time I post a picture of me or my wife holding a baby on the intrawebs, comments come spewing from all directions – “No, it’s NOT MINE!” Brothers, sisters, parents, cousins, friends…everybody is hopping on board the pregnant train.
Some of them may have a point. Some of them may just be selfish. Most of them are selfish <– that’s how I see it. Most just want grandbabies or nieces and nephews running around to hold, look at, and laugh at. However, few bring up a fairly decent point. By the time our children are born, all of their cousins will be older than them. True enough. Although, that is hardly enough of a reason to start pushing out little babies.
Even better reasons to NOT have kids yet are as follows:
First up: the crying…oh the unending wailing. My nerves are frayed just thinking about it. I don’t do well under pressure, and that is a high-pressure situation trying to figure out what a baby (that cannot speak) wants or needs, and trying to remain calm and soothing while doing anything and everything you can imagine to appease their whining.
Also, I am in no way, shape, or form ready for the inevitable filth that I mentioned earlier. Everytime I hold a kid, I get drooled all over…and that’s if I’m lucky! A far worse scenario involves actual bodily waste as opposed to mere bodily fluids. Small children are forever vomiting on everything in sight or crapping all over themselves. That is disgusting. And if you know anything about me, then you should be well aware that is just not my style!
Add into that my sleep cycle. I love sleep. Oh how I love sleep. Let me count the ways…just kidding. But I really do love it, and I don’t see me faring well with a constant lack of it. I see red, bloodshot eyes, darkened circles surrounding my eye sockets, dragging and shuffling my feet instead of normal walking, and random moments of inanimation followed by sudden rejuvenation. Know what that sounds like to me? You got it…zombies!
The living dead zombies of parenthood.
Plus the baby food. I think it has to be a secret ploy to give babies the taste for brains. Seriously. Look at that junk. Am I right? Not to mention that the little buggers already try to chew on anything that they can fit in their mouths. I’m starting to get the idea that as humans, we are being bred to create zombies now that I think about it. That’s a whole zombie family. Ugh…I’m not ready for this! The zombie apocalypse?!
Or am I??
Thank you, that is all.