Mom Material


It probably comes as no fucking surprise whatsoever that I do not want kids. Like Justin Bieber says, you should “never say never”, which I’m not saying…but I’m venturing on the cusp of never.

Since everyone in my fake life (social media) and my real life (roughly 4 people) is engaged or married or praying for both, I’m assuming you lovebirds all want to pop out a bunch of fun sizes too. That’s great! What is more fun than a big family- just ask the Kardashians! They are totally normal and never have any drama.

First and foremost, I’m just going to do what people in AA do and admit my issue. I don’t like children. A lot of people seem to think this is weird because according to them, children are great (debatable), or think that because I used to be a child, I should like them. That logic makes no fucking sense at all. That’s like expecting a skinny girl who used to be fat to like, love fat people. I’m sure she recognizes what they are but she’s probably like ew, help.

I’ll admit that kids are funny sometimes, in the same way that elderly people are funny because they totally just say random shit with no disdain for their audience. I like that. However, kids are extremely needy and like, helpless. I only know how to cook for myself in the sense that I know how to use a microwave, so how the hell could I feed a high maintenance kid?! And I would never bring a child to a restaurant because hello, I’m not a douche.

There is no way in HELL I will change a diaper, and I’m so bad at casually smiling when an infant spits up on me. That’s gross. I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve left my house keys somewhere totally bizarre and I REALLY need those. The odds of me leaving an infant in a Trader Joe’s or Target because I got too distracted by a potential purchase is so high I can’t even deal. I don’t even want to bring up the fact that kids just cry all the fucking time, but it is the worst sound in the entire world. Seriously, I’d rather listen to a Taylor Swift song on repeat than a crying baby.

The only thing I dislike more than actual children are people who have children. People with children are so fucking entitled. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE A KIDS MENU WITH CRAYONS FOR MY PERFECT SON TO ENTERTAIN HIMSELF WITH AT THIS NON-KID FRIENDLY RESTAURANT?! People who expect the whole world to react to their reproductive choices are just stupid. Not every place in the world is a fucking palace for your toddler. I absolutely love mojitos but not every restaurant or bar in the world has mint leaves, and you know what, I deal just fine.

I don’t want to pretend to give a shit about the newest high chair you just bought for your kid or how your daughter grows out of all her clothes so fast. That’s boring. I “understand” that when you have a baby your life becomes all about the kid, but I mean…it literally becomes All.About.The.Kid. When parents start calling each other “Mommy” and “Daddy” in a non-sexual way I just about die. You can almost feel them sleeping in separate bedrooms.

Plus, the people with kids are always the ones who say “You’ll change your mind!” when I say I don’t want children. Um, WTF. You wouldn’t say that to a pregnant person, why would you say it to me? Since I have actually begun making major moves to ensure that I don’t have kids (“donating” my eggs and implant birth control) at a fairly young age, I get this one a lot. No fucks given.

The ultimate reason I don’t want babies is because I’m selfish. Instead of acting like every parent out there and saying how “selfless” I am, I’m actually going to tell the truth and just straight up say I do not want to

  1. Give up my career goals
  2. Give up my plans for travel
  3. Give up my plans for furthering my education
  4. Give up all my money
  5. Sacrifice my boobs or vag
  6. Share the attention of my lover/friends/family with a baby.

Is this fucked up? I mean I guess. It would be more fucked up if I was actually with child and thought like this. I am impatient, immature, and forgetful. I love to day drink and every other word out of my mouth is a curse word. Maybe if this was 1950 I’d be a regular mother, but as far as I can tell, those qualities are just not mom material.

So blessings upon all of your unions and I hope you all breed happy, healthy little spawns of yourselves. Truly! Just don’t ask me to babysit.


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