Never will I ever

I was over reading at the Pregnant Chicken about 

"when I have kids I will never..."

and it really got me thinking.

I'm constantly guilty of this. I don't have kids.

I judge people who judge other people who have kids and feel they're not raising them "right." 

But I do it. 

With my friends that have kids, people I see out with kids, even with family members that have kids.

"Oh, I would NEVER let my kid do that."

WhatEVER, man.

After reading that article, I felt like a true asshat.

How can I possibly judge other people's decisions?

The closest I've come to a real-life mother encounter is staying overnight with my nephew.

That was one night, people.

ONE.

Which gives me approximately 0.0001% pull during a child-rearing-areyoudoingitrightordoyousuckatlife conversation. In case you're bad at math, my opinion doesn't count for jack.

Since my darling nephew was born, I have come to the realization that kids are a lot of freaking work.

And he's a good baby. I can't imagine having a kid that's a terror. You'll find out if that happens, because I will need to be committed.

Thinking about all of this, I came up with a list of things that terrifies me about having kids.

1. My kids will want to sleep with me.

Nuh uh. Not going to happen. With the exception of letting my newborn sleep on my chest out of sheer desperation to get them to sleep, that shit is not going to happen. I find it barely tolerable that I have to share the bed with my husband, two cats, and a dog. Add in a kid and I will scream bloody murder. 

2. People will judge my actions

My sister has let me in on a little secret. Apparently everyone - your hairstylists, random strangers at the grocery store, your great aunt Mildred - everyone wants to tell you how to raise your kid. This is going to be a major, MAJOR [did I say major?] problem for me. If I want to set my kid in front of a TV with a juice box and some freaking gummy bears just so I can have a moment's peace on the toilet, then that's my own business. If I want to stop breastfeeding because I have lost feeling in the girls, then that's my deal. Or better yet, if I don't want to breastfeed because I think it's totally gross, even if it does burn a lot of calories, than shut your hippy mouth and leave me alone. My kid's not going to be an idiot because I gave him formula instead of breast milk. If he's an idiot, that's just bad luck.

3. Breastfeeding

After seeing my sister's experience with this, breastfeeding scares the bajeezes out of me. I can honestly say that I don't think I will do it. Seriously, it's terrifying. Not to mention, stressful. I mean, holy hell - it's SO much work. And don't get me started on the contraptions they have to "make it easier." They're horrifying.

4. Baby-hogs

Here's my thoughts on random strangers wanting to hold my kid:     no. Not going to happen. And then, when I go somewhere and my kid is getting passed around like a freaking hot potato, I'm going to need a sedative. That will bother me. Which will assuredly be a problem in our family because everyone loves babies. It's not that I don't trust people...I will just be nervous. That's all I'm saying.

5. Sleep

I love sleep. Sleep loves me. Babies, however, do not love sleep. Which is just not going to work for me. I'm going to have to hire an overnight nanny just so I can get two hours of rest. I don't know how my sister did it. She's a superhero or something. I, however, will be like an angry bear, or gorilla or something. 

6. Labor

Oh good God. I've joked that I am going to request a C-Section. That's not a joke. I do not, I repeat DO NOT, want to go through a child birth. The idea of a large, squirming object making it's way out of my hoo-hah does not sound like a fun time for me. And the whole "oh the experience is so beautiful" thing is a bunch of malarkey.  I've witnessed a child birth and the last adjective I'd use to describe it was "beautiful." Now, in theory, it sounds beautiful. You know, a woman manages to grow a child inside of her for nine months and then push it out and viola you have a kid - that's pretty effing amazing. But the process in which the child comes out is not beautiful. It's gross, and there's a lot of goo, and multiple people see your lady parts in ways you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. But in the end, like after you're all covered up and all the mysterious stuff is cleaned up off the floor, you have yourself a beautiful baby. The moment I got to hold my nephew after he was born was one of the top three best moments of my life. I can't imagine what it will be like when I have my own. Via a C-Section, of course.

7. After labor

My sister and I are incredibly close, so I got to hear all the details about the weeks following a child birth. It's not pleasant, from what I gather. Yet another reason to ask for a c-section. 

8. Losing the baby weight

I'm just estimating here, but it's likely I'll gain approximately 400 pounds while I'm pregnant. It's just in my genes. As it is, I have to work my ass off to not gain weight, and don't even get me started on losing weight. It's not even close to easy. So after I have my child and have zero time to even sleep, I have this feeling it's going to be hard to take time out of my diaper-changing/feeding schedule to go to the gym. I've always thought I'd be one of those cool moms who like brings her kid along when she runs a marathon. Because I want to be that person who makes you feel like a total loser when I pass you. With a toddler. In a stroller. 

9. The mom van

I fear this most of all. I cannot lose hope. The mom van will never happen. No matter how inconvenient a car may be, or how much an SUV might cost, I am never ever going to drive a mom van. Fast forward 15 years and I'll probably have one. But for now, I'm sticking to my guns.

10. Losing my identity

I know this sounds weird, and ultimately selfish, but it's become apparent that once you have kids, people couldn't give two craps about you. It's your kid they care about. Which I totally get. But hey, man - I'm cool too. I guess that's one thing about growing up; you quickly learn that you are not as important as you think you are. What you do, however, is what remains when you're gone. Raising your kids right, to be good people, that's the only way to ensure that your legacy lives on.