Guys. I am not ready for kids. Actually, more specifically, I am not ready for babies. Kids at least can be somewhat self sufficient. And often times they can speak. Not always coherently, but ya know, it gets the job done. But babies need sooooo much attention. [This post feels like it’s going to be very reminiscent of that time I said I’m not ready for a puppy (still true)].
Don’t get me wrong, I love bebes. They elicit the same feelings as bebe animals which is to say they make me want to sob uncontrollably and squish them at the same time. But I don’t squish them because they are cute and that’s also why we don’t eat them. Babies are just little fat rolls of joy and love. They are needy little fat rolls of joy and love. And let me tell you, this household currently has enough of that (i.e. Max and I).
On Sunday, Stephanie wanted to spend the morning and afternoon in the garden. The pollen felt like it was gnawing on my lungs and taking a straw to my eyeballs so I wanted her to stay inside with me and play. But I have somehow managed to keep her from the garden for many days so she insisted that this was happening. I was the crankiest little panda that ever roamed this earth and I immediately resented the garden and laid on the couch watching Grey’s Anatomy, crying at the dying lady giving birth and envisioning my wife’s new future with her oh-so-special Rosemary. Fuck you, Rosemary! I am so much better than you!
Oh no. Oh no no no. I am jealous of my wife’s plants…
See!?!? This is why I cannot have babies yet. Because Stephanie will wake up in the middle of the night to go feed it and I’ll wake up because that’s how this cruel world works and then I will say, “Where are you going?! We’re cuddling!” And she’ll say, “Our child is hungry and her dexterity sucks so I have to hold the bottle. Sorry bout it.” And then I’ll say, “You love this baby more than me! You’ve never fed me in the middle of the night. I love midnight snacks! Where’s my ice cream, huh?!” And then she’ll realize that she’s made a horrible mistake and our marriage will fall apart and I’ll starve because who will feed me??
I AM SPIRALING RIGHT NOW. ALSO I APPARENTLY DON’T HAVE A CAPS LOCK KEY AS I JUST REALIZED SO I AM HOLDING THE SHIFT KEY AS I TYPE EACH LETTER AND IT IS INCREASING MY ANXIETY TEN FOLD.
Around the time of Easter Stephanie and I were discussing egg hunts and my deep, deep appreciation for them. I think because when we stayed at the Grove Park Inn there was an Easter egg hunt on the property. And I asked her if she thought I could play. And topics like this really get me going…. I know I’m an “adult” ok? I get it. I’m 26, I pay my own bills, I watch my wife weed the yard, I turn off the TV immediately when not in use because money. But I fucking love bounce castles. And obstacle courses. And a good ole fashioned game of tag. And easter egg hunts!! And I never understand why there can’t be adult versions of these things. So I asked Stephanie if when we have kids if she can hide all the eggs so I can hunt too. I think she tried to say something along the lines that it wouldn’t be fair if I happened to find them all because I’m older and more seasoned but honestly I think it’s teaching our children an excellent lesson. Which is not to suck.
And all of this brings me to the point that I am currently much too selfish for a baby. It will happen eventually but as of right now I really, really like sleep. And I hear fetuses (feti?) make that awfully difficult. Also as just a small aside to my wife: I am sorry that I am insane and I promise it’s a phase that I will grow out of. Please love me. And as a note to anyone reading this: I want to reiterate that I love babies. Please do not be scared to leave yours with me. I take serious care of the things I do not own. And I do not own your baby.
Shit. I even creep myself out. Time to wrap this up.
You bring me joy, baby bok choy
P.S. I also feel like I have to throw it back to this
rocked out to some B. Spears on our way to babysit this weekend