What Babies Are Not

I know a few people that are always going on about wanting children, how they’re going to have a baby in a year when things “settle down”, how they think they’d make great parents, how they’re going to do everything right when they have a little one of their own. And in nearly every single fucking instance, I think to myself, “You are the exact type of person who should not have a baby right now.”

And it’s because they really have no concept of what a baby is. What it means to have a child. They do not comprehend that once you decide to have a kid, the life you have led for however many years is gone. You have a new life now. In many ways, it will be better, and in more ways it will be harder, and that is due in no small part to the fact that parenting is one of the few things in life that you pretty much have to completely fucking improvise. There is no manual, no two week training period, no documentary. You just kinda have to, you know, do it, and hope like hell no one dies.

So. For those of you who think you can like, omigosh, so totally handle having a kid cuz maybe you’ve babysat a few times and your nieces and nephews seem to like you – read on. This is for you.

1. A baby is not a doll. You’re having a human, not a Barbie. And if you knew shit about kids, you’d know that the last thing you need is a plethora of cutesy little goddamn outfits, since a baby will just shit and puke all over them, then promptly get too big to wear any of it.

2. A baby is not a relationship Band-aid. Your marriage/partnership will not improve by bringing a human life in to the mix. My guess is it’s probably going to get worse because babies are stressful and exhausting. If your relationship is on the rocks, work that shit out before you drag an innocent child in to it.

3. A baby is not proof of your maturity. If you think it is, you’re not mature enough to have a baby.

4. A baby is not fun. Yeah, there are parts of parenthood that are fun. But in those early, formative months, it’s a lot of craziness, trial and error, questions, stress, confusion, worry, and sleepless nights. You aren’t going to have fun for a while, champ.

5. A baby is not temporary. Your life is changed now. You can’t just dump the kid off with someone and go about your pre-kid existence. You can’t party every weekend. You can’t party in the middle of the week. You don’t get to sleep 12 hours a day anymore. Your shitty minimum wage job will no longer cut it. Your child deserves all of you, they require the absolute best that you have to give.

6. A baby is not a dog. I shouldn’t even have to fucking say this. I don’t care how much you love your dog. I don’t care that your dog has pet insurance and is doted on and worshipped. I don’t care that you think dog owners have it harder because they don’t qualify for government assistance (yeah, I’ve actually heard these words come out of someone’s mouth). YOUR DOG IS NOT A FUCKING HUMAN BEING. PERIOD. IT IS NOT THE SAME. 

To help put this in perspective: Let’s say your apartment building is on fire. A baby is trapped inside. So is your dog. Now let’s say your best friend comes along. When given the choice between rescuing YOUR DOG and a STRANGER’S BABY most people are going to pick the baby. Yes, the fact that you take such good care of your pet is a good indicator that you’ll be good with a child. But if you think caring for a dog and caring for a baby are basically the same thing, you’re a fucking idiot.

7. A baby is not leverage. Pregnancy is not how you keep a man in a relationship. A child is not a pawn for use in your divorce/break up. If you think a child is a good way to manipulate people, you are a shitty person.

8. A baby will not grow up to be your best friend. It’s your child, not your buddy. You did not give birth to a minime. You gave birth to a goddamn individual. If you are still operating under the assumption that you won’t be like your parents, that you’ll let them wear what they want and talk how they want and do what they want, you are delusional. My kids’ grandmother put it best: “if your teenager doesn’t hate you at some point, you’re not doing your job as a parent.”

9. A baby is not a trophy. You are going to fuck up this kid. No matter what you do, you will do something wrong. And chances are, your kid is still going to be okay. If you have this grand idea in your head that feeding a kid only organic food and never letting them watch TV and making sure every hard surface in their life is covered in foam, you are totally missing the point of being a parent. A baby is not something you parade around and show off so everyone knows what a stellar person you are. You aren’t perfect. Your kid won’t be either. And that’s okay.

 

Please breed responsibly.

How We’ll Spend Our Summer Vacation

It’s that time again! The kids are out of school! Time to entertain them every second of the next 90 goddamn days.

Here’s a list of fun summer activities you can engage in. No. Really. They’re fun. I swear.

Bring liquor.

 

Water Parks

Because I know nothing gets me out of bed quicker than the knowledge that I will spend the next eight hours in wet clothes traipsing around a concrete jungle of slides in the blistering heat making sure my kids don’t drown in the pee-tainted waters. Oh you’re hungry? Why yes, I’d love to buy you a $14 grilled cheese sandwich. Thirsty? Let me just take out a second mortgage on the house so I can buy you bottled water. A souvenir? Yes, because nothing says “I had a great time!” like a $50 stuffed dolphin the size of my fist.

 

barbecue“Talking to you makes me want to kill myself!”

Barbecues

You mean you want me to invite over a shit ton of people so they can eat my food, play in my yard, shit in my toilet, drink all my beer, awkwardly mingle with me, instruct me on the proper way to cook a burger, and in return I shall receive boatloads of store bought potato salad and extremely unappetizing dips? And I get to clean up by myself? Where the fuck do I sign up?

Fireworks

Nothing says summertime like sitting in itchy grass surrounded by bugs and drunks, waiting an hour and a half for 15 minutes of colorful explosions which my children will lose interest in after about ten minutes and then ask if they can play Fruit Ninja on my phone.

bro“Bro, do you even bro, bro?”

The Beach

Sometimes you wake up on a Saturday and think to yourself, “I really feel like it’s a good day to pack up half the linen closet and 2/3 of the refrigerator, load that shit in the trunk, get the kids in swimsuits, drive to a public swimming locale, pay $10 for parking, haul all that down to the shore, slather the kids in lotion, and send them on their way so you can witness the parade of thong sporting club girls navigating the sand in strappy gold heels and frat boys in plaid shorts and flip flops chugging beer and tossing their cans on the ground like assholes.

Amusement Parks

For those times that going to a water park, where you can at least cool off in a mixture of urine and chlorine, just doesn’t adequately fulfill our desire to be fucking miserable. For those times, locate your nearest overpriced, overrated, overcrowded land-o-fun, fork over half your salary for the month, and let the misery begin.

roadtrip“I’m going to smother each and every one of you.”

Road Trips

Is there some place you’ve always wanted to visit but you feel that getting there quickly and comfortably is for sissy bitches? Why not cram the fam in to the car, fill every available space with luggage and snacks, and spend the next week slowly learning to hate all of the people you live with?

 

Parentspeak – Because You Can’t Tell A Preschooler to Go Fuck Themselves

You may not have picked up on this, but I tend to be pretty blunt.

I’ve also heard the words “asshole” and “fiery bitch-demon” used to describe me, but those just seem rude.

But you can’t really be blunt with kids, at least not in most regards, because you risk pissing on their childhood, destroying their dreams, or tip-toeing in to the realm of verbal abuse. But you can certainly think those things, and those without kids will be none the wiser.

I’ve compiled a list of the most common parental statements and their literal meanings. Because lol, that’s why.

 

What We Say: Are you sure that’s a good idea?

What We Mean: That is literally the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.

 

What We Say: Please don’t make me ask you again.

What We Mean: By all means, make me ask you again. It’s about time you learn what crippling fear feels like.

What We Say: You can’t just eat cookies all day. It’s not good for you.

What We Mean: You’re going to get fat. Like, super fat. Like, grease the doorways fat.

 

What We Say: I don’t know. Ask your father/mother

What We Mean: GO. AWAY.

 

What We Say: What are you doing?

What We Mean:  What are you fucking up?

 

What We Say: You’re so beautiful.

What We Mean: Thank god I don’t have ugly kids.

 

What We Say: What a pretty picture!

What We Mean: Is that a chipmunk in a poncho punching William Shatner? What the fuck did you draw?

 

What We Say: It’s time to start calming down.

What We Mean: Shut the fuck up.

 

What We Say: Time to get ready for bed!

What We Mean: SWEET FREEDOM IS NEARLY MINE!

 

What We Say: That kid just isn’t very nice.

What We Mean: I should punch that little fucker in the face for hurting your feelings.

 

What We Say: You can’t do that – it’s not safe.

What We Mean: Jesus Christ, will you please stop trying to die?!

 

What We Say: I am very upset with you right now.

What We Mean: You have made me so furious that I might literally shit a ball of fire.

Dating Someone With Kids: What You Should Know

I think it’s a fair assessment to say the stigma of single motherhood as far as the dating pool goes has decreased drastically. More men seem to be open to the idea – especially since we’re seeing more single fathers. But if you’ve never dated someone with children you probably have no idea what you’re getting in to – and you should, because kids are kind of a big deal what with them being tiny human beings with delicate little brains and all.

So here’s a heads up that will, with any luck, enable you to make an informed decision as to whether or not you’re equipped to handle it.


1. No one is more important than the kids.

This should be a no-brainer, but when you’ve exclusively dated the childless, you get accustomed to being numero uno in your partner’s life. And it’s not like you have kids, so you don’t really know what it’s like to be in a relationship where there is a mutual understanding that the kids have top billing in this show. But it’s true. Don’t take it personally. Or go right the fuck ahead and take it personally – there are other fish in the sea.

2. There are “kid snacks” in the house, and you don’t fucking touch them.

This isn’t a college dorm, where a box of cookies is fair game. No, bitch. Those go in lunch bags and are used as negotiation tools to persuade the little bastards to leave the room for ten minutes so you can finish this week’s episode of The Wire. If it’s a food item advertised on Nickelodeon, you better grab a fucking apple and hit the bricks, son. (The one exception is if there is a disproportionate amount of goodies to children. Three bottles of apple juice, two kids? Well, you have to drink the third one. That’s just family politics.)

3. Shit gets loud.

If someone is a normal parent and not a goddamn Nazi, they don’t subscribe to the belief that children should be seen and not heard. Kids are going to run, jump, shout, sing, yell at each other, cry, bitch, moan, nag, laugh, and be generally obnoxious – but it’s all in good fun (usually). Even if you’re inside and they’re outside in the yard, they’re going to come in the house every five minutes with a question, a request, a complaint, or to get something that they absolutely need right this very minute. They will accidentally slam doors, drop things, fall down, and cry dramatically to get their sibling in more trouble than they deserve. Parenting is a constant struggle between getting them to the shut the fuck up and letting them be kids. Get some earplugs, some patience, and remember how sweet they are when they laugh.

4. Shit gets messy.

The reality is that the house is not going to look like a magazine 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Shit happens, and it’s happening constantly. And sometimes it’s not even the kids. My girls clean their rooms every day, and are responsible for putting their toys away. But there are days where I’ve worked nine hours, driven home in shitty traffic, stopped to grab groceries, came home, made dinner, given them a bath, and gotten them in pajamas and in to bed at 9:15, do you actually think I’m going to vacuum the floor right now? Do you think I give a shit about the toothpaste smiley face they drew on the bathroom mirror at this very second? Fuck off or clean it yourself.

5. Sometimes we’re boring.

I’m not old, you guys. I’m 29 for Chrissakes. But my idea of fun has changed dramatically, and even men my age without kids don’t understand why I think spending the day at the river having a picnic and walking along the shore is a great time – especially since there’s no liquor involved.

I’m not saying I don’t still enjoy the occasional party, that I don’t go to the occasional bar, that I don’t stay out until two having dinner and drinks with friends. But those times are few and far between, and I like it that way. I like that my weekends are spent at parks or science museums or taking road trips up to the Redwoods. And I cherish those weekends that are spent doing abso-fucking-lutely nothing at all.

6. Sometimes we’re tired.

Don’t get insulted if we don’t want to stay awake after to kids go to bed and watch a movie. We aren’t avoiding you. We are fucking exhausted. Wake us up in an hour. Maybe then we’ll be rested enough for sexy time.

7. We don’t need you to play mommy/daddy.

In situations where the other parent is an active, positive role in the kid’s life, we do not, in any way, expect, require, or even want you to step in. Don’t spank my kid. Don’t ask my kid to call you daddy. Work out with the person you’re dating where the line for discipline needs to be drawn so you are both perfectly clear as to what that entails. Obviously, you should be someone the kid can depend on, who can fix boo-boos and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. But if you want a kid…make your own. 

8. Domestication isn’t so bad.

It’s kind of cool, having clean laundry all folded and put away huh? Clean dishes? House smells nice? Holy shit, are these linen napkins?!

There’s a whole new level of adult-type-shit that goes along with having kids. It’s the difference between having color-safe bleach and fabric softener and, well, not having those things. It’s having every size and shape of bandage in an organized First Aid kit. It’s always having a pen, always having snacks in your glove compartment, having dinner at 6PM every night at an actual table. It’s a porch light always being left on for you. It’s coming home from a night out to someone who fell asleep watching Investigation Discovery on the couch so they could kiss you hello, no matter how late it is. There’s a sort of comforting normalcy that goes along with the hectic-yet-structured schedule of having kids.

9. You will never be on time for anything again, ever.

We try, dude, I swear to god we do, but all it takes is one lost shoe, one broken toy, one stumble down the steps, one little asshole kid who refuses to turn the fuck around in his carseat because he’s mad at you for not letting him have another popsicle. Then BAM the whole fucking trip is set back half an hour. We even attempt to build time in for these little snafus – how many parents have said “I’ll say I’ll be there at 4:30, even though I should be able to make it by 4:00, that way I’m covered”? Except what happens? There’s a fucking gas leak and your garage explodes and oh shit, you just ran over your neighbor’s cat OH FUCK YOU FORGOT TO GET THE KIDS IN THE CAR IN THE FIRST PLACE.

But I swear, we try.

10. There will be times that we are lazy parents, and we don’t give a shit what you think.

Wouldn’t we all love to say we never let our kid watch cartoons, eat candy, or talk back? That’s the fuckin’ dream, isn’t it?

Yeah, well, that doesn’t happen.

Sometimes a Dora marathon is the only way I can clean and reorganize the closet, or finish a chapter I’m writing. Sometimes a lollipop is the only way I can get them to shut up so I can have an uninterrupted conversation with my banker. Sometimes my kid will get smart with me and I will get so pissed off that I literally cannot speak, because the only words I can think to say are “go fuck yourself, you little shit.”

We love our kids, don’t we? We love them madly. But sometimes cutting them a break means cutting ourselves a break, and if you want to get all judgey for that, well…just wait until it’s your turn.

 

The Top Ten Crises That Pregnant Women Face

1. Dropping something.

If you’re alone in the house and an object goes flying out of your hands, there is a 70% chance it’s going to stay right the fuck where it is until someone happens by.

2. Shaving your legs.

Far more horrifying for a woman carrying through the summer months, since you winter bitches can just wear pants and take a weed-whacker to your legs for your monthly OB visit.

3. Extreme thirst during the third trimester.

It’s cool, I already have to pee every ten minutes anyway. I would love to also be parched. You know what? I’ll be on the toilet. Just bring me a pitcher of ice water and some Kleenex and leave me the hell alone.

4. Having to sneeze and pee at the same time.

Yeah. That pee is not staying in there. Just let it happen.

5. Getting up.

Except you don’t really get up anymore, do you? You may roll, heave, scramble, claw, push, wiggle, or squirm. But you do not simply rise to your feet. Not anymore.

6. Sleeping.

You can’t sleep on your back or your stomach, and it’s preferable to sleep on your left side for the benefit of the baby. You probably can’t share a bed with someone because they either radiate so much heat you are convinced they are made of hellfire or they grow fed up with you getting up every hour to piss and cry.

7. Can I do that?

Because everyone becomes a gynecologist when they see a pregnant girl, we face a constant barrage of old wives’ tales interspersed with legitimate medical truths. Can’t eat sushi, can’t swim in lakes, can’t drink water bottled anywhere in the north of France…how about you give me a list of what I can do, asshole.

8. Guard the belly.

Whether it’s a runaway kid, a wayward puppy, or an unforeseen countertop, our tummies are under constant attack by the world around us. We can’t even turn around quickly for fear of knocking over a lamp. Or running our of breath, you know, whatever.

9. Taking off a bra.

This is some excruciating shit right here. I don’t know why we think taking it off slowly will somehow trick our tits in to not being throbbing, aching globes of milk-filled agony, but immediately after removing a bra, we instantly regret the decision and wind up cupping our own lady bits. A wise man knows to look away when this happens. This is not sexy. This is Sparta, motherfucker.

10. Stranger danger.

Please stop touching us. Please. It’s creepy and we don’t like it. Stop. Just stop.

 

Truths I’ve Told My Children

1. Why did Aunt Cassy marry a girl and a not a boy?

Because girls can love girls, and boys can love boys, and if you love someone and wanna marry them then that’s what you do.

2. There’s a girl in my class whose face looks different. How come?

Some kids are born different. All kids are born special. Treat her just like you would anyone else – that’s all she really wants anyway.

3. Why are your boobs so much bigger than mine?

Because Mommy uses her boobs to feed babies and to fill out V-neck sweaters.

4. How come our puppy had to die?

Things don’t die, they just become a different kind of energy. You can’t see it, but everything will eventually float back up to the stars so the universe can decide what they’ll become next. There are no endings – only infinite beginnings.

5. Do I have to grow up?

On the outside, yes. On the inside? That’s up to you.

6. Can I just live with you and daddy forever?

Let me put it this way: when you graduate high school, your graduation gift will be luggage and moving boxes.

 

Also, check out https://drivingmisty.wordpress.com/2014/05/22/lies-ive-told-my-children/

Lies I’ve Told My Children

1. Eat your vegetables.
I was watching a show on TV where they changed the voice of a person they were interviewing. Guin came into the room and asked why his voice sounded like that.
Kyle replied, “That’s what happens when you don’t eat your vegetables.”

2. Where do babies come from?
I managed to incorporate my own beliefs by telling them that all babies start as a star. Then they pick a mommy, turn into a shooting star, and fly into the mommy’s tummy while she’s sleeping.

3. What happened to my pet fish?
We accidentally bought the wrong fish at the store. We got a Seussfish, and those kinds of fish sometimes
grow wings, then fly out of the bowl and back to the ocean.

4. Did you drink my chocolate milk?
“No.”
“Did too.”
“I did not.”
“You still have milk on your face, Mommy.”

5. Why can’t I sleep during the day and stay awake at night?
Because you’ll turn into a vampire.

6. (While stalling at bedtime) Daddy, what’s your favorite dinosaur?
A gotosleepasaurus.