Tuesday, November 3, 2015

If We Had Human Kids They'd Be Dirty And Uncool

Last month I was on the phone  with an acquaintance of mine going over details for a project I'm working on. I don't remember the conversation in its entirety. At one point, she blurted out, "You're lucky you don't have kids." I was slightly caught off guard.

I've heard it before. In the past 8 years, I've lost count at the amount of times I've been discussing work and my crazy schedule with someone and that same comment carelessly spews from their mouth. It's like a final one-up on me that I can't top. I almost feel obligated to dish out a few compliments to pacify their need for recognition.

"You work full-time AND have human kids? Wow! You win! Here's your gold medal. I don't know how you do it."

I'm 42. My wife is 48. It's safe to say Lisa and I will not be producing human babies. I'm okay with that. We're okay with that. We've got 2 fur-kids who depend on us for everything. We're a family. We're dog Moms.  We love and adore our fur kiddos to the moon and back. We wouldn't change a thing.

At this point in my life, I just don't want human kids. It's not just an age thing. Although I love human babies and kids and I've spend most of my life around them, I'm almost positive I'd make a crappy mom to human kids.

And yes, I can back this up...

1. I'm old enough to be a grandmother. To all of my fellow classmates who are in their 40's and just starting or extending their families. Good for you. Some of the people I went to school with are already grandparents. I can't imagine being in my late 40's, picking up our human kid from school and being surrounded by moms who just passed legal drinking age. And, who knows what I would say if one of them asked, "Which one is your grandchild?"

2. My schedule is a hot mess. I no longer sleep in 6-8 hour increments. I nap. I get a few hours of sleep in the morning and maybe a nap after dinner. I work 'round the clock whether it's Bodacious Biscuit love stuff or my job. I'm always in a state of sleep deprivation. Coffee, and other caffeinated beverages, is at the top of my food pyramid. As crazy as it is, I like my schedule. I don't want to mess it up with carpooling kids to school, soccer practice or spending three hours helping with a science project. No.

3. My inability to tone down on the F-Bombs. When out in public or around certain company, I have a semi-proper tongue. However, in the comfort of my home (or car), it's a whole other story. And yes, I believe wholeheartedly people who cuss are more intelligent and honest. With a human kid around capable of repeating everything I said, I'd have to constantly be aware of each word I spoke. Having to do that day in and day out would land me in the cuckoo zone. I guarantee our human kid's first word wouldn't be "mommy..."

4. Where's the rest of the family? At some point, I'd have to explain the absence of my side of the family and why. In this day and age, family dysfunction is at an all-time high. It probably wouldn't be a big deal, but still...

5. Explaining the harsh realities. During my elementary school years, I remember the teacher handing out safety booklets that covered sensitive topics like not taking candy from a stranger or not getting into a car with someone we didn't know. Back then, that's all we needed. Well, times have changed. There's a world of crazy people out there who have slipped through the loopholes. My version of embedding stranger danger in a human kid's head would be a line up of a few Criminal Minds and Law & Order SVU episodes. I'd make them watch it. See it. Believe it. Take every precaution you can to evade it. Just talking about it isn't good enough. Our human kid would have nightmares for a week.

6. Our human kids would be super uncool. When I was 10 we played outside, had a cabinet full of board games and art kits and entertaining ourselves didn't require electricity. Human kids nowadays have way too many electronic devices at their disposal. Their rooms have turned into a high-tech metropolis. Getting sent to their rooms is no longer a punishment. Our human child wouldn't have those luxuries. An iPad at the age of 8. Ah no. A TV, computer and gaming consoles in their bedroom. Nope. A $700 iPhone. Hell. No. Throwing a temper tantrum at a restaurant because "the WiFi sucks?" Never. Bored? Here's a rake. Get your little butt outside and rake the lawn. You're welcome.

7. I would be a soccer and PTA mom nightmare. No doubt. I am not one to conform and I believe homemade chocolate chip cookies and juice boxes is a perfectly acceptable snack during soccer practice. If one of those pompous PTA moms tried to tell me otherwise...

8. Don't want to go to college? Fine. Don't go. I'm not going to force you. I'll even go a step further and say I would try to convince our human kid not to attend at such a young age. That's my attitude. Personally, this crap of spending tens of thousands of dollars is a waste of money. Pressuring our human kid to attend college immediately after high school is a whopping mistake. Most 17 and 18 year old teens have no idea what they want to do for the rest of their life and making them decide at such a young age is wrong. Instead, how about some hardcore life lessons, independent living skills and money management. Work at a fast food restaurant for a year or so. Pay rent. Know what it's like to have bills every month.

9. I'm too Old School. I can handle most human kids and teens in small doses. Some, longer. Others, not at all. Back in the day (yeah, I'm old enough to say that), we respected our parents and elders. Nothing was handed to us on a silver platter. None of us were entitled to anything and we didn't get awards for just showing up. There were a list of chores to do throughout the week and on the weekends. We didn't get an allowance for completing those chores. If we needed money, we did extra chores or shoveled the neighbors driveway. Something happened between then and now. Human kids (not all) have it too easy and simple things like manners and respect are fizzling out.

10. Our human kid would be dirty. I laugh at the parents who run around dousing their human kids with globs of antibacterial gunk. I've lost count how many times I've heard, "Oh Sara...don't kneel in the dirt. You'll get dirty." It's gotten out of hand. When I was a kid, we played in the dirt, drank from the water hose, ran around barefoot, made mud pies and got sand in our hair at the beach. When it was time for lunch or dinner, we washed our hands with soap and water. That's it. None of us grew a third arm or spread "cooties." We didn't hydrate ourselves from metal, BPA free water bottles. I think human kids need to get dirty, hold slimy frogs, kiss salamanders, roll in the dirt and just be kids without all the antibacterial fuss afterwards.

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