Friday, January 13, 2012

Baby Fever

Moms are odd.

My daughter is four and a half and my son is almost two. My wife is doing sterling work at the office. My impressive parenting skills are only outshined by my ability to angrily clean up the kitchen every morning knowing I could have done it the night before in ten minutes. The only things I'm thinking about over the next year or so is what I'm going to do next. My daughter will go to school for a whole day. In the UK this would be relatively simple - school by 8.30/9 and home after 4pm at the earliest. Oh no - not in the US. Some muppet seemed to think that sending kids off to school before 7am was a smashing idea. It's particularly silly for a child my daughter's age because at least one day out of fifteen getting up and doing anything at all regardless of the time leads to a DEFCON 3 factor meltdown. Even sillier is the notion that - to help parents - those same kids will get out of school around 2.45. Thereby making it nigh on impossible for parents to not bundle their kids off to another place for other weirdos to keep an eye on them. How parents have tolerated that timescale I just don't know.

Anyway - I'm looking forward to when the children can do certain things without my help (like going to bed) and I can concentrate on whatever it is I'm actually going to do next. My wife and I are constantly asking, "what did we do before we had kids?" and I'm in the dark there. But I'm also simultaneously pining for some alleged time when things will free up and my wife and I can do things.

Unfortunately for me my wife is a woman who has had a baby. Actually two - which makes her twice as silly. It means that logic in certain situations is completely thrown out the window. My wife hasn't slept since 2007. She hasn't not had a child pawing at her like a hungry piglet gnawing it's mother in over four years. She needs a break. And yet any glance of an ickle baby and she'll come bounding home gushing, "we should have another baby!!!" Not now obviously. But at some point. Like maybe now. Add in to this equation the fact that after over five years my wife's body has decided to reintroduce a menstrual cycle (obviously she had one so we could conceive my son - but we rock at making babies and hit the pregnancy spot square on the nose last time) and this has pushed her to solve that problem by eradicating it with a baby. Theoretically anyway. It's perfect logic to her.

I wouldn't mind another kid I suppose. Not now - that's nuts. Especially as we'd unofficially decided not to have more. Meaning we'd shaped our lives, budgets and expectations around the notion that our kids will grow up and we'll do other things. I don't need to be convinced or anything like that to have another kid. Another child isn't out of the question. But we did decided not to do it again. I can't for the life of me figure out how my wife can go through two pregnancies - which she LOATHED - and want to do that again. Add she gave birth twice and one was awful. Granted the last one was bizarrely good (and all down to her very very hard work) but one time does not a pattern make. I can't imagine how crushed she would be if the doctor told her she was having a caesarian. That could happen. I know it's pretty much guaranteed not to happen if she doesn't get up the duff again.

More to the point a tiny baby is a massive pain in the arse. One of the true victories of parenting is when you get to the stage when you know that if you left your child in a random semi-public place to fend for themselves that they wouldn't die within a week. So not whether they are a good person, or healthy or anything like that. Just that they made it to a certain arbitrary age that means they aren't completely useless helpless. A tiny baby is pathetic in this sense. It confuses me endlessly that the human race thinks it is at the top of the animal food chain - king of the entire kingdom - and yet the babies we have are possibly more fragile than any other species.

I don't like babies personally. Obviously I love my own kids. But babies suck big time. They empty juices and brackish fluids from various orifices. They need all your attention at all times. They don't respond in anyway. They certainly don't need a Dad in the same way they need their mother. Despite all efforts on my part my kids didn't give two shits about me until they were well towards 9 months of age. They smell funny. They look awful. Their belly buttons die, turn black and fall off. Same goes if they have a tail as well. It's just not good. And yet one glimpse of someone else's strangely red tiny baby and all Moms seem to want one. Even my wife. She looks at the situation and forms a column of Pro's and Cons that looks like this -:


1) Absolutely hate being pregnant.
2) Third. Degree. Episiotomy. You aren't likely to get one reading on the couch. Much more likely to by sharting a human being through your bacon sandwich.
3) Never ever going to sleep again. Ever.
4) Spit Up, Green custard feces and cleaning diapers.
5) Total loss of concept of time. It could be anything. Doesn't matter.
6) Three children doesn't work. Only have two arms. One might get away. Therefore always have to be conscious that the one you like least isn't accidentally being held down.
7) American health care's attitude to having a baby seems to be that a hostile satanic parasite is inside your body and the doctor must remove it without any consideration for what the mother wants. ITS NOT YOUR BODY ANYMORE. Don't want an internal? Well that proves you're insane and no longer get to decide things.
8) Not enough bedrooms in our house. Worse - I may own the biggest bed in the universe but my duvet seems to have been commandeered by the other four (the dog has joined Team Make Sleep Shitty For Daddy).
9) Generation Z (or whatever we're on now) are all a bunch of sickening get-it-all-by-doing-nothing wankers. Every last one of them. They're a lost cause and we should just chalk them all down as pointless and move on to the next lot. With three kids spread apart like this one of them is going to be in whatever the next lost generation of farkobots is going to be.
10) Will need to buy some kind of bus.


1) Massive tits.
2) BABIES!!!!!

You see the constant battle I have ahead of me.

1 comment:

  1. Gods it's times like this I'm glad I'm not a parent. I like sleeping late and walking around my own house naked and scratching my junk. I like watching whatever I like and listening to punk, eating what I want and farting and swearing with gleeful abandon.

    On the other hand... massive tits.

    Damn I'm torn.