A Public Service Announcement for Parents

Parents: we need to have a quick chat.

Look, we get that you love your kids. Really, we do. That’s why we read your umpteen updates on Facebook that alert us to your daily agendas, which include ballet lessons, karate lessons, bible school, and that “healthy” dinner of Hamburger Helper made with light sour cream.

And we love your kids because we love you. So, we’re kind of obligated.

Know that, despite our not being inclined towards kids, hearing your story about them FINALLY having a firm bowel movement after a week of diarrhea, or that their first words was “This,” even though we’re pretty sure that you just heard one of their gibberish words and glommed on to whatever word it most sounded like, there are limits.

So we ask you, a quid pro quo. We will continue to listen to your endless tales about the size of the corn kernels in their crap, if you understand a few things on our end:

1. Your kid’s growth percentile: First of all, we don’t give a shit that you have a fat baby. You may not realize this, but like, literally all kids that we hear about are above the 80% growth percentage, and you’re not somehow fooling us into thinking that you have this unusual baby who’s showing early signs of a competitive edge. To be clear, that doesn’t mean that all kids are above your kid’s percentile, it means that we are apparently not friends with deadbeats who starve their kids. And it seems that stupid percentile chart don’t mean much anyways.

2. If you want us to be even slightly interested in your kid’s progress, stop giving us your kid’s age in months after the first year. We do not care enough about your baby to do math in our heads. Especially if we’ve been drinking. Which, in order to listen to an hour-long discussion on baby poop, we probably have been.

3. EVERYONE’S FUCKING KID IS WEARING A BIGGER SIZE THAN DESIGNATED ON THE CLOTHING LABEL. Can we agree that, like, every 3 month old is probably wearing clothing for a 6 month old? And seriously, how fucked up is it that we place such value on fat babies, and stick thin teens/young adults. Warped.

4. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT, start a sentence with, “Tell Jess about your trip to the __________________”. End it with whichever trip you’d like: zoo, park, San Diego, France, a bukkake house. I have several friends who tell their kids, “Tell Jess about your trip to the zoo.” and then I have to sit there while their kid, who is barely fluent in our language, takes 15 minutes to tell me about a trip to an establishment with which I disagree anyways. Put it this way: I give more of a shit about the welfare of those caged polar bears than your kid and his misguided learnings about how it is perfectly ok to make a mockery of wild animals who are being forced to live in a fake habitat for human amusement. Do not make us sit through your kid’s shitty, garbled, grammatically incorrect stories about trips and adventures.

We all know that, with the fact that he’s in the 90th percentile and wearing clothing for kids 6 months his senior, he’s destined for a sad future on “The Biggest Loser” anyways. Let’s not operate under the pretense that he’s remotely interesting.

The Secret is Out, Us Child-Free Folks Love Hookers, Blow, and Swinging

Today I was reading an article by John Kinnear at the Huff Post, “5 Things Parents Need to Stop Saying to Non-Parents.” I shared it on my Facebook page and noted that I especially liked that it was written by a parent, when my fellow child-free-by-choice (CBC) friend, Theresa (you all know her from by her battle cry for small boobies) took issue with one part:

“As a non-parent I’m a bit upset that he told everyone about all the hookers & blow we have at our parties.”

Hookers and blow. He totally outed us.

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It’s not like we are trying to hide it in shame. It’s actually our way of being nice to parents; a little mercy, if you will.

The fact is, while our friends with kids are rattling on over their Monday-morning lattes about how their weekend was packed full of soccer games, barfing, swim lessons, kids’ birthday parties, and middle-of-the-night temper tantrums, we’re only nodding with feigned sympathy to be polite. We don’t WANT to rub in your face what our weekend was like, so we give a canned response, some variation of, “Oh, I just did some work around the house.”

The fact is, this is the typical weekend of the child-free:

1. Hookers and blow – thanks for outing us, John Kinnear. Yes, the cat is out of the bag: us CBCs love our hookers and blow. It’s really the biggest reason we chose to not have kids. It is SO difficult to have hooker and blow parties when you have kids hanging around. Even if the hooker does have a kid, they’re surprisingly hesitant to turn the blow party into a “blow and playdate” party. So we selflessly forego children. Look parents, until you’ve experienced a hookers and blow party, your life is truly not complete. You haven’t lived. It is a special experience, and words alone can not do it justice.

2. Swinging – oh come on, we all deny that it happens, but us CBCs throw the BEST swinging parties. The fact is, when we meet other couples who are also CBCs, we’re secretly sizing them up to determine if we’d sleep with them. If they make the cut, they’re invited. And we don’t do key parties anymore, that is so 70s (and, unlike 70s swinging parties, we’re all ridiculously hot). In fact, if you hear someone mention a “key party”, it’s a sure sign they’re a parent. We do smart phone parties. Everyone tosses their smartphones in a basket and then grabs someone elses. Each party has a “Designated Texter” and, when it’s time to switch partners, they simply text “Switch” to everyone.

swinging

3. Not only do we wipe ourselves with money, we drink it, too – Remember that episode of South Park where it was revealed that Magic Johnson avoids developing full-blown AIDS because he puts his money in a blender and drinks it? Well us CBCs got a little nervous that our secret may be exposed because, the truth is, part of the secret to our happiness is the fact that we take extra money we save by not having children, throw it in the blender, and drink it. We are also part of a secret exchange program, where we trade stacks of cash for rolls of cash. Fresh cash against your ass is the most luxurious feeling in the world. I’m sad for those who cannot experience it, because it is life changing. Again, we weren’t hiding it to be secretive, we just didn’t want to rub it in the faces of our friends with kids while we watch them scrape together extra cash to put away for their kids’ college funds.

money

4. We worship our vaginas and stomach skin in the mirror – it’s our form of religion. You know how parents do things like, have gratitude every day that their kids are healthy, or don’t need braces? Well us CBCs have seen the pictures of vaginas and stomachs post-birthing, and they truly inspire gratitude. I can stare at my vagina and be grateful that my vulva will never be stretched to the size of a soup bowl; Calm-ass Husband will never have to contemplate if it may be better suited to just prop me up on the couch, spoon some guacamole into my vagina, and grab some tortilla strips for a light snack while he watches The Killing. And we can rub our tummies and not read braille. Those aren’t tiger stripes – that is a goddamn sign of the coming apocalypse. It’s alien messaging and you derelict scientists need to start deciphering that shit like they’re the new crop circles.

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5. We have our own fight club. It involves bikinis and bukkake. But that’s all I can say because I’ve already broken the first rule.

So there it is. Mr. Kinnear let the cat out of the bag, but it is a bit of a relief. So now, when our parent friends look at us and say, “Why are YOU so tired, you probably just slept all weekend”, we can finally be honest and say, “Between the blow, gang bangs, vaginal worship and bukkake…..I’m EXHAUSTED!”

Tampa Bukkake. Not to be confused with the other Florida regional bukkake clubs.

Tampa Bukkake. Not to be confused with the other Florida regional bukkake clubs.

WINK Wednesday: A Review of Jen Kirkman’s Hilarious Book About Being Child Free, “I Can Barely Take Care of Myself”

Me: I need like, an hour warning before you come home from work today so that I can shower.
CAH: k…
Me: I realize that sounded shady as shit. I want to have dyed my hair and already showered before you get home, but I’ve been reading that new book by Jen Kirkman, so I am procrastinating doing it.
CAH: Oh ok!

This is what happens when I am half-reading, half-IM’ing my husband. I sound like I’m trying to get my side piece out of the house, and shower in time for the husband to come home.

I knew I wanted to do a review of Kirkman’s book for WINK Wednesday as soon as I heard about it, because it is about choosing not to have kids from a very funny lady who I first heard on my second favorite podcast, Ronna & Beverly. Since it IS WINK Wednesday, and this book involves not having kids, it seemed the perfect pairing.

Jen-Kirkman-Book-Cover-ICBTCOM

Speaking of pairing, WINK Wednesday means that there must be wine involved. I’d say this book pairs well with a wine juice box and some Vicodin.

BEFORE I CONTINUE THIS REVIEW THAT INCLUDES MY OWN COMMENTARY:

I want to mention some great mom friends to whom the upcoming commentary does not apply*:

1. Persephone

2. Spectacu-tits

3. Misty

4. Blah blah

5. Tanqueray Trickmommy ***

6. Magic Mountain **

7. Ham Sandwich

8. El Chupa Mombra

9. Shannon

* In the interest of privacy, I have changed all their names. But those of you mom friends reading this, you know who you are and feel free to assign yourself whichever name you’d like.

** Yes, I know, this is the name of a sexual position. It’s actually how her kid was conceived.

*** To S: I know you will want to be Tanqueray Trickmommy, but in my head, you’re Spectacu-tits.

Jen Kirkman hit the sperm on the pill-protected egg when it comes to being a woman who doesn’t want kids in today’s overly-obsessed baby society (that sounds obnoxiously book-reportish, but I’ve rewritten it at least 6 times, so it surprisingly sounds less book-reportish than the original sentence). It’s like she emptied my brain and put it on paper, but peppered it with her own stories, which are way more interesting than mine.

Here are some key takeaways from Kirkman’s book:

1. Pretending you are a few weeks pregnant at a nail salon may just get you some free neck massages AND a free mani/pedi from the overly-baby-enthusiastic salon workers, which is fucking brilliant. (Don’t judge. How many of you pretended you were pregnant just to get your ex-boyfriend to call you back? This is nowhere near that on the “Fucked up things you’re trying to get out of faking a pregnancy” scale)

2. I’m not the only one who finds that mothers inappropriately talk about their own bodily functions, as if the rest of us non-parents are OK with listening. I totally get that, once you’ve given birth and all of your self-pride and ability to be embarrassed are out the door because you’re crotch-up in front of an audience with every concievable bodily fluid spurting out like a Twirly Whirly Sprinkler, you have a way different view on bodily functions. But for the love of God, stop feeling free to be flatulent in front of me, or talk to me about you pooping. Because I have not had a drink of that Kool-Aid and I find it disgusting.

3. My favorite quote of the book: “I think that childfree by choice is the new gay. We’re the new disenfranchised group. People think we’re irresponsible, immoral sluts and that our lifestyle is up for debate.” THANK YOU! I know, you’re reading this thinking, “But being gay isn’t a choice and having kids is.” It’s all about how we live our lives and what makes us happy. If having kids makes you happy, great, but don’t assume it’s for everyone.

Jen Kirkman has some great new insight into the life of women (and men) who don’t want kids, but perhaps what I love best is that she echoes a lot of things that many of us DINKS/WINKS have been saying for ages. I find the echoed sentiment just as important as her own unique insight because I’m hoping that, if enough of us unite and continue to repeat the same stupid questions and commentary we get, eventually it will get back to the twat waffle moms and, the minute they open their mouths to regurgitate their proclamations over how we are wasting our lives, they will realize it is, in fact, cliche at this point, and just shut it.

The truth is, there are a lot of great moms out there who aren’t self-righteous twat waffles. And in reality, self-righteous twat waffle moms are just self-righteous twat waffles in general, but now they have a new lens through which to project their twat-waffliness.

And let me end with something that has been popping up a lot recently: those of you saying that being a parent is an underappreciated job, or a full time job, or a thankless job. I’m actually not going to debate that you’re probably unappreciated, overworked and totally tired. I just wanted to let you know the definition of job, because I think you are confusing “job” with “self-imposed responsibility.” A job is a “paid position of regular employment” (dictionary.com). It is where one trades goods and/or services for money. Unless your baby is helping me pick out a cardigan to go with my new red Gap jeans, this is not a job. Your child is of absolutely no service to me or society. And don’t give me the whole, “Well, s/he could someday cure cancer,” because s/he may also be the future Florida face eater or Joseph Kony (I finally got to mention that guy’s name and can now point to a useful reason that I watched that fucking video).

It is a responsibility of huge magnitude, there is no denying that. But it won’t be long before your kid asks you for a new pet. You will likely grant that child their request, on the condition that they promise to help take care of it. When, 3 months down the line, the kid complains about the responsibility because it is cramping their X-box/dolly dress up time, you will remind them that it is something that they wanted and that it is their responsibility. So for those of you complaining now, let us remind you that, those kids are something that you just HAD to have and we TOLD you it was going to be a big responsibility when you drunkenly confided in us over martinis that you stopped taking your pill a month ago and hadn’t told your husband. We are not going to applaud your decision for having unprotected sex just because your suddenly feeling unappreciated for your choices. We TOLD you!

To the above mentioned 9 ladies I know personally, you’re all doing a great job, don’t change a thing.

Get Jen Kirkman’s book, I can barely take care of myself.

6 Things You Shouldn’t Ask or Say to Couples Who Aren’t Having Kids

Ever hear the joke, “How can you tell that someone is a vegan? Don’t worry, they’ll fucking tell you”?

Well, the same goes for us DINKs – Dual Income No Kids. Those of us who have chosen a childless lifestyle.

It’s not that we are trying to be smug, it’s just that we so often have to defend our choice to be childless that we come on more forcefully than necessary:

Polite Person: So you’ve been married almost a year!
DINK: Yup!
Polite Person: Nice – are you going to have any kids?
DINK: NO!!! WOULD YOU FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE WITH YOUR INTERROGATION YOU GODDAMN CHILD NAZI?!?!
Polite Person: I never should have let you marry my son – you’re insane.

You see, the problem is that often when you are politely asked if you are going to have children, and reply that you are not, the questioning does not stop there. They continue their line of questioning to see if they can pinpoint the reason, and then troubleshoot a solution, as if not having kids is some sort of logistical issue that you are facing. When they have so selflessly figured out the issue for you, and offer you a solution, they sit back with glee; proud of the fact that they just helped another little person into the world.

And you’re just sitting there hoping that later on in the day, a bird craps on their smug face.

Procreation Sleuth

Procreation Sleuth

So for those of you with kids, here are some of the worst things you can say to someone who has chosen not to have kids:

1. “Why don’t you want kids?” – Seriously? Chances are good that the reason we have for not wanting kids is deep and personal, and we really don’t want to share it with you. Asking people why they don’t want kids is potentially asking them to share very personal, possibly painful, information with you.

2. “Can’t you have children?” – This shouldn’t even have to be on this list, but I’ve heard it more times than I care to recall. Asking a question as personal as that is as rude and inappropriate as one of us grabbing your (or your wife’s) pregnant belly and saying, “Look – this means you had sex and it worked. Your uterus and vagina work! So does your husband’s penis and his testicles! This means your husband put his penis in your vagina! YAY!”

3. “You’ll change your mind later,” or, “You’ll regret it” – Translation = “Even though you are an adult, you are incapable of making long-term decisions.” Just because you (or your wife) once had a Buddha belly, does not make you wiser than the rest of us. We’re adults, we can make our own decisions and be happy with them. We could easily say that you may change your mind about having kids, but that will somehow be more insulting to you, wouldn’t it? God forbid we insinuate you made a mistake having your kids. To imply the other way around with us not having kids is not any less insulting.

4. “That’s selfish” – Really? Why? Scenario A: We have a kid we don’t really want and may love it, but might not like it too much. Maybe we will feel resentment towards it. Maybe it will take a toll on our marriage and we divorce, giving the kid a broken home. Scenario B: We recognize the very real possibility of this happening, avoid having kids, and no one gets hurt. But you want us to go with Scenario A, regardless? Now who’s selfish? Let’s face it, there are PLENTY of parents who had kids and should not have. Let’s applaud those who recognize it before having them.

the wiseass wife

5. “Well you may not like other people’s kids, but you will like your own, it’s just different.” – OK, that may be. But it might not end up being different. And have you stopped to consider how irresponsible it is to propose that someone who does not want a kid saddle themselves down with one anyways? On the hopeful chance that “it will be different”? If it doesn’t change, are you willing to accept responsibility for my kid because I can’t deal with it? I once had a supervisor who did not like or want kids, but got pregnant. She and her husband had it anyways and I distinctly remember her starting a sentence with, “I mean I like my son, but…..” Lucky kid.

6. “You should give it more thought before you decide” – I don’t know about that, but I am going to give more thought to hanging around you because you’re rude and lack basic social skills.

If you must pry, this is how this conversation should go:

A: Hey, so when are you and your husband having kids?
B: We’re not, we’ve decided to remain childless
A: Cool. Wanna get a latte?

Look, the bottom line is this: Everyone is different, with different life goals and preferences. If kids work for you, great. But don’t assume they work for all.

So kid-havers of the world, we beg of you: stop being nosy and just accept the fact that some of us don’t want kids. In return, we won’t grab your pregnant stomach, give you parenting advice for which you have not asked, and try to refrain from cracking jokes about how much sleep we get, deal?