Disclaimer: There are millions of parents out there. I know that, and I know you guys are protective of your kids. You guys are doing a great job. Please realize that I’m not talking about anyone’s children specifically. These are simply my own honest, stubborn opinions on the idea of having a child/being a parent in general, related to me and only me. Don’t be an obnoxious ass about the miracle of children and all that shit. I also refer to children as “it” very often, so if that gets your boxers in a bunch, replace it in your mind with whatever pronoun you want.
Ever since I was…let’s say in the first/second grade range, I remember always despising children. Sounds a little weird, seeing that I was a child, too. However, it was common–and still is–for younger children to want to hold and coddle those precious baby bundles. Then the mom would always have to find a way to shoo off the anklebiter who was begging to hold her newest pride and joy, saying they were too little and would break the baby.
I was never one of those children. I hated baby dolls and would never play with them. I refused to be the mother during a game of Playing House, because that meant the other kids would pretend to be my “children”…Hmm, nope. Hell, I didn’t even do the old “stuff a pillow under your shirt so you look pregnant” because I thought it was gross and weird as hell. If there was a baby in the room, I’d be the one to go back in my room and play until I was dragged out by my mom to welcome the “gift” into the world.
I never asked to hold a baby, simply saying that I just didn’t want to. Adults never understood, and would proceed to coax and encourage me into holding the creepy frail baby-hand clutching at the air. There was no way I was touching any body part from that vagina-creature. When I still argued, they would just laugh and say, “You’ll have one of your own eventually.”
Ew. No the hell I won’t.
Those feeling stuck with me all through elementary and middle school, when girls were gushing about babies and having conversations about what they would name their children. When the question was aimed at me, I told them the truth: I didn’t like children and I wasn’t planning on having one. Boom, I was out of the Junior Mothers Club.
Today, I still don’t like children. It’s gone over a lot smoother with people over the passing years, but I continue to get those new-mothers and random older people insisting that I’ll want one sooner or later. To put it in a stupid way, children and babies annoy me. There’s nothing I find interesting or alluring about a chubby sack of skin and bones that can’t tell the difference between their shoes and a Lego. The drool, the baby-talk and never ending babbling, the stumbling and crashing into things, I can’t stand any of it. There are times when I’ve had to go into another room so I didn’t yell at somebody’s kid to “Shut the hell up!”
Oh yeah, I definitely sound like I want one of my own, right?
I’ve held a baby about five times in my whole life. Why? Because I know that if I was handed someone’s bundle of love, I’d be likely to put it down on the couch and walk away. This isn’t a lack of responsibility or discipline. I sincerely have no desire to hold the lump-with-a-face that came out of your vagina or you recently adopted, and given the option, I will leave it in its carrier-thing and join everyone else in the other room.
Unfortunately, no matter how distant and uninterested I make myself look, kids STILL approach me and talk to me. I’m the baby-hater in the room, and they freaking love me. I don’t get it! Are you fuckers sending your kids after me as some kind of self-help therapy? I know, I know, they’re just kids and they’re born to talk and crawl and bother everyone individually, but still! They need to come with a sensor that goes off when they approach someone that doesn’t want anything to do with them.
I’ll humor them, of course, so I don’t look like a complete ass so quickly. I might grab a toy and play with them, or have a conversation about a duck or whatever the hell they want to talk about. Everyone on the damn planet seems to see this as me loving children, and they take the initiative to ask if I’m planning on having my own someday…
I’m eighteen freaking years old! Kids aren’t on my mind! The last thing I ever plan on doing is getting pregnant* and dealing with that shit for eight months. No thanks! I plan on spending my life with my girlfriend, work on a few novels, and enjoying my time spent on the planet. Hell, maybe I’ll join the military like I fantasized about a couple of months ago. But I do not plan on having a kid.
Besides, how do you think you’re making others feel when you bring that up? What if that person is infertile, or just suffered from a tragic stillbirth? Would you insist that they “try again”? How about the people that couldn’t take care of their children for financial reasons, do you plan on bashing them because they couldn’t handle the miracle of life that blessed them?
To be perfectly honest here, having a kid would ruin my life. From all the bribed babysitting experience I’ve gained, I know good and well that I am not emotionally, mentally, or physically strong enough to take care of my own child. Claps for you, parents, because you have a hell of a tough job. Maybe that will convince you to stop bombarding me with questions about my future plans in parenthood. I’m dead serious here when I say that I would go through with an abortion if I found out by some fucking sick miracle that I was pregnant. Strong statement, huh? I know, but that’s simply my opinion. We can discuss that can of worms later.
I know another question that comes up is “What if your significant other wants children?” Let me tell you, my girlfriend loves babies. She’ll cuddle and play with them, but she still has a limit to how much she likes being around them and taking care of them. She’s brought up the topic of kids a few times, but never to the point of actually discussing it. Like I said, I’m only eighteen. She just turned twenty a month ago. She just got out of USMC boot camp, and she plans on being in the service for 7+ years. I’m still pondering the idea of going into the military as a career.
Long story short, a kid will not be happening. At least not for a long time. Even then, discussion will be held, and we will figure out where to go from there. All I know is that I’m sure as hell not going to be getting pregnant.*
Please stop bothering me about babies and how “your whole life improved because of a child” and all that jazz. I’ve been on this rant for eighteen years. You’re not budging me.
*I know pregnancy is not the only option for having a child, but it was the main idea that was constantly brought up by the people speaking to me.