Lifestyle

From DTF To Diapers: 10 Reasons Why I'm Just Not Ready To Have Kids

by Michael D.
Stocksy

It’s happened to all of us: You log onto Facebook, scroll past parties you weren’t invited to, see people who think their opinions are the only ones that matter, see old friends who now are having children and you stop.

You say one of two things: “Aw," or "Ugh.” There’s really no middle ground.

Facebook has suddenly become this modern “Best in Show” competition where everyone just uploads hundreds of pictures of their kids and says, "Look what my kid can do!" (destroy), and "Look what he said" (as if it was some Harvard algorithm for “I’m hungry”).

Recently, when I scrolled past hundreds of first walks, first words, first “I love being a parent” statuses, I came to one pretty solid understanding: I am no where near ready to have kids right now.

And, just to be clear, I am in my 20s. One day, I do want kids, and this article is not meant to throw shade on those who have chosen to procreate.

It’s simply my own opinion as to why I am not ready to put my social life down, flip it and reverse it.

Teaching Kids Things

Kids ask so many questions, as they should. They are growing and developing and wanting to know everything about life. But I am terrible at answering questions I don’t know the answers to, and there are a lot.

My friend has a 4-year-old and he asked her what sex was. A 4-year-old! How do you divert that question? Or do you just answer it honestly?

Well, sex is this beautiful thing you do for about a minute and 45 seconds (depending on intoxication), and when you’re done you feel worse than before you started. Just kidding; sex is beautiful.

I would know; I saw "Fifty Shades of Grey."

The Friends

Are you serious? I think it would be safer to bring my kid to a prison than it would to bring him or her around my friends.

My friends are the best people you’ll ever met, but last week they made a drinking game out of stapler and a deck of cards (don’t ask). Does that sound like a responsible play date?

The Changing Of Channels

I’m genuinely confident that I have watched enough "Law & Order" to pass the bar exam, and I am also confident that if I had a kid he or she would not care to be read his or her Miranda Rights for spilling the milk.

With a kid you have to make some serious adjustments in what you will be watching on TV, so get ready for your “recently watched” section on Netflix to become a colorful, animated assortment of cartoons you would only watch if you were high with your friends.

The Paying Attention

I lost my cell last week. I left it on the shelf in Target, walked out of the store, drove away and came back FOUR hours later to get it. I was hysterical in those four hours looking for it, but I mean, could you imagine if I had a kid?

Because of the man that I am, I feel like my genetic makeup has seriously crippled my ability to multitask.

So you mean I have to text you back and remember to walk out of the store with my kid at the same time? You’re hinting at miracles here.

The Insecurity

Kids are brutally honest, so get ready for all the insecurities about you to be brought to the forefront for them to point out.

Kids simply don’t have the boundaries that most of us grown adults do (unless you’re on the "Real Housewives") when it comes to saying what’s on our minds.

Kids will keep it completely real; they’ll insult you to your face and then go take a nap, wake up and never apologize.

It’s like when you’re in a drunk haze and you finally have the courage to say all the things you wanted to say to someone, and then you wake up in the morning and apologize and say “sorry I was so drunk.”

They are 100 percent real with what they say, and they’re not going to apologize for saying the acne on your face looks like their connect-the-dots coloring book.

The Bragging

We’ve all seen it on social media; as soon as you have a kid you’re obligated to inform everyone about what they did today and how it was mind blowing.

Oh your kid said the word “dad?" I’ve said the word “dad” hundred of times in the last week and not once has he answered me back.

I do understand though, first words are important, but if you want to compliment someone’s ability to slur some words together, come see me try and order a pizza on a Saturday after last call.

Obviously I am over exaggerating, but as I said before (and as the The Fat Jewish quoted me), why is everyone bragging about how great it is to have kids? I slept till noon today and the only person who threw up last night was me.

The Mess

My idea of clean versus the societal acceptance of clean is very different. When you have kids, get ready to clean up messes that would even make a fraternity say “damnnnn.”

My apartment is walking a thin line of, "Is my house covered in chocolate or is that just black mold?" Like, if my house could have a restaurant rating it would probably be a “C”; you’re not thrilled to be there but if you’re desperate enough you’ll come in.

When you have a child, you can’t be playing any games with leaving things around the house. Do you know how many pregnancy tests could be mistaken for thermometers?

The Food

I looked in my cabinets yesterday and it looked like a Microsoft store in the mall. On the outside they looked just like any other cabinets (Apple Store), but inside there was nothing I wanted.

I had just about enough food that if a homeless person walked into my house, he would assume it had been abandoned for years.

What do kids eat? How do you properly monitor if they are getting nutrients when a full size meal to yourself is eating free samples at Costco?

I now understand why whenever my dad had to watch me, it was just a constant breakfast, lunch and dinner loop through the McDonald's parking lot. You can’t even feed kids that sh*t anymore; people will protest against you.

It’s like the controversy of vaccinating your kids (side note: If you say the word vaccinate three times Jenny McCarthy will appear out of thin air.)

The Loss Of Sleep

If there’s one thing I love more than anything/anyone (sorry, God) is sleep.

When you sign up to have a kid (at the DMV is where I presume), there’s a special line that you sign that says, “I agree to not sleep for the next one to eight years and accept the responsibilities that come with this child.”

I love sleep; I love it so much that sometimes I’ll tell people I have plans because my bed is the only thing that treats me right. It's like how Drake treats a woman (with respect).

The Sickness

This might be the biggest of my concerns. If you thought you were dying when you googled your cold symptoms, wait until you child lets out a single cough and you think he’s dying of a medieval plague that was eradicated centuries ago.

I went to the doctor because I had a pimple I was 99 percent sure was a spider bite that I would die of within the week, so if my kid even sneezed I would start racking my brain for how he or she could have possibly been exposed to Ebola.

Well, mom and dad, if you’re reading this (which you are not), have I degraded your existence and years of hard work you put in as my wonderful parents? I surely hope not.

Parents are the best and they have a really hard job raising sh*theads like myself.

After all, I wouldn’t be here if my dad hadn’t decided to swipe right on that girl he thought was cute on Tinder.

I know that I am immature and selfish when it comes to the idea of kids in my life right now, but that’s okay. I’m allowed to be!

I’m allowed to enjoy my life child-free right now because at the end of the day, I’m in my 20s still and the closest I want to get to pushing around a child in a stroller is my drunk friend in a shopping cart at 2 am.