Before I had kids, no one asked me when I was going to have them. Maybe had I waited until my late twenties – early thirties, I’d have family members up my asshole with a flashlight telling me that my eggs are drying up, but it wasn’t until AFTER I had my oldest that the uterine inquisition began.
I thought it was bad after Holden. The reactions were mixed. Either people were asking when I thought I’d be getting myself knocked up again, or they were telling me I should wait/give it time/never procreate again. Everyone was all up in my uterus, y’all. I had a five year plan, and I swear, thanks to all the suggesting and protesting, my uterus got a big head (yeah… just go with it) and BLAM! PREGNANT! I’d be having kids two years apart. Thanks a lot.
Parker is awesome, but Parker was not planned. I’d call him a surprise, but he really really more of a shock. Like walking into a dark room and farting your ass off, only to have the lights flick on and “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”- it’s awesome, but you’re all “what the fuck???” That’s Parker in a nutshell. No, he will not be offended if he ever chooses to read this blog one day. He knows he was not planned. He relishes the shock-factor.
After the second kid, it basically becomes open season on your vagina. You are now a baby factory, especially if you have them “close” in age. Congratulations!
Are you done? When are you having more? Come on, you know you want another! Oh, and my favorite- don’t you wanna try for a girl? TRY for a girl. I mean… I can’t even with that. As a mom, I’m used to weird shit being said to me that to the kidless sounds weird, but that just gives me the icks. At least twice a week, if not more, I am asked one or more of the above. I don’t find the questioning offensive, no. I’m not offended. I understand curiosity. But I swear, some people think that once you pop a couple kids out, you are putting your uterus on overdrive and signing over the lease of your life to the children.
If you’re feeling sick, craving any particular kind of food, worn out, emotional, or just a little sentimental, watch your uterus! People will try to give that thing ideas. “Uh oh, could someone be pregnant?” NO! I’M RAGGING, BACK OFF! I don’t even like the term “ragging” but damnit, it felt right to yell it.
I’m not JUST a uterus, people. I am a person. I have other parts. I’m a mom, but that is not all that I am. I don’t just sit around hoping to once again turn myself into an incubation station. I’m not sure if I ever want to make the transition from referee to bouncer. Let me have my two, and my empty uterus.
Instead of asking me if/when I’m having another kid, you should ask me how I’m dealing with the two psychotic ones I already have. The answer I give you will tell you enough to let you know that you don’t need to ask anything else.
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.
Parenthood is when you start counting the minutes to bed time before 11am.
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