His name showed up on my caller ID and instantly I knew why he was calling. I didn’t even greet him. “Is the baby here?” I asked. “Is everyone okay?”
He laughed at my presumption then assured me that everyone was fine. I jotted down the child’s vital statistics while listening to the tale of the birth.
Possibly everyone has the friend who shows every sign of staying single forever. I had V. until seven months ago, when with no notice he announced that he and his girlfriend had gotten themselves pregnant and were planning an immediate wedding. “You don’t have to get married, you know,” I told him awkwardly. My ex echoed the advice. In fact V. reported that after congratulations, “you don’t have to get married you know” was the most common response to his announcement.
Nevertheless, they got married and in due time the baby arrived. After V. gave me all the details, I encouraged him to call me anytime things got frustrating and he wanted an ear. “I’ve been through it more than once,” I reminded him. “I vividly remember how awful those first couple months can be.”
Things will be fine, V. assured me. His baby wasn’t a crier at all! “Honey, it’s early,” I said gently. “Babies don’t cry when they’re twelve hours old. They cry when they’re twelve days old. And twelve weeks old. Call me then.”
He brushed off the offer. “How bad could it be?” he wondered.
Bad, I told him. Bad enough that you’ll consider buying earplugs. Bad enough that you’ll seriously think over setting your child on the back porch while you lie down for a nap with three pillows over your head. Bad enough that during hour two of slammed doors and wailing from two toddlers too tired to go to sleep — like tonight, I thought but didn’t say — you’ll wonder why in the world you ever wanted to become a parent. Bad enough that on a few extra dark days you’ll wish to send them back from whence they came.
“But you love your kids,” he said. “Surely you never felt like that.”
Yes I did, I assured him. Yes I most certainly did.
V. was unconvinced. He theorized that parenthood wouldn’t be so bad for him because he could always rest while his bride was nursing; also he could retreat to the basement if things got too ugly. I rolled my eyes and left him to go back to wife and child, ignorant and happy.
Ignorant and happy, the only way to become a first-time parent. Or perhaps I’m the only one who has upon occasion questioned her decision to raise children?
Being human, you shouldn’t be blamed for occasionally questioning the wisdom of raising children or even in some instances deciding that your children are in fact the spawn of the devil.
Hopefully things won’t get “too ugly” for your friend V. and his new wife.
Happy new year (slightly belatedly)!
“Or perhaps I’m the only one who has upon occasion questioned her decision to raise children?”
yeah…right.
Egads…it’s stories similar to this from my friends that make me question my decision to *want* children, let alone *raise* them!!!
But it’s leaving me very un-ignorant of the realities of being a parent, so maybe that’s a good thing???
Hon, if questioning your sanity over the decision to have children makes you a bad mother… then welcome to the club.
We have weekly meetings, self inflicted floggings, and quickly send you a subliminal message to repeat in your head “why, why, WHY did I ever want to be a mother???”.
Just in case you’re having a freakishly good day, we keep the following on standby to set you back to I’M A BAD MOMMY mode:
*screaming infants with shitty diapers
*rambunctious and devious toddlers
*preschoolers who have just learned the delightful reaction that using the word “FUCK” in public causes
*grade school children who whine about being bored after 3 seconds of not being entertained
*teenagers that sulk, pout, mouth off, eat all the food, know WAY more than you do, and have perfected the “you’re pathetic” eye roll.
And don’t forget the daily dues of questioning whether you’re doing it right, or if your fuckups are going to cause years of expensive therapy, and/or your child to place you in the worst nursing home they can find when you become old and senile.
But… wiping away a single tear, receiving a simple hug or unidentifiable crayon drawing, hearing “I love you mommy”, or having your teenager actually TALK to you for 2 whole minutes… makes the dues and the sacrifices worth it.
Just another bad mother,
lalana
Look, my position is that if you never ask whether you’re up to the job of parenting, you’ve been lobotomized without knowing it.
My firstborn stopped sleeping while we were still in the hospital. The only reason he’s sleeping now, as I write, is that New Year’s Eve gave him a serious deficit.
If there were truth in advertising, the birthrate might drop by half. Since there’s not, all we can do it cling to our love for our kids and support the parents who take the plunge after us. Not lying about the hardships of parenting is the first, great step. Bless you for being a good friend.
This is why babies are cute – it curbs the urge to leave them on the tundra to fend for themselves after 14 hours straight of crying.
My godchild was a colicky baby. I went and relieved his Mom one day when she called me sounding a bit…..wiggy and mentioned that the child had not stopped crying for about two days. He’d slept for four hours in those two days and she’d slept for three.
I raced over there and took him out of her arms and told her to get the hell out of the house. To go shopping or back to MY place to sleep where there was NO crying baby.
I only spent 12 hours with that kid and I didn’t know how the hell she and her husband did it full time.
For the reasons listed above and more besides, I have decided never to become a parent. I respect those like yourself and my mother who’ve chosen motherhood as a lifestyle (though not a career), but I am not one of those people. I’ll never be a father, and I’m okay with that.
Kudos to you for being wise and honest about your experiences.
I question it all the time. The maternal thing did not come easy for me- my oldest is 14 and some days I still don’t know what I was thinking.
i adore my children beyond all things in this world. and yet i too have those moments where i wonder what in the world i was thinking when i had them.
it doesn’t get any easier either, by the way, mine are now on the brink of the teen years, and there are days when wish i could send them away. just so i can rest for a while in QUIET, for a few days, or weeks, or maybe i’ll take them back when they are 18.
then that mood passes, usually after i have rested, or when my manipulative eldest comes to rest her head against my breast and tells me she loves me, and it all drains away, and i see my angels again. i get filled with that overwhelming love, that only mothers feel, and then i remember why.
it says nothing about being a bad, or good, mother. it says that we are delightfully imperfectly human.
Do I love my kid? More than life itself.
Do I want to sell her to the circus every now and then? So many nows and thens.
Anyone who doesn’t can’t be actually PARENTING a child.
I don’t want to sell my children to the circus. I want to pay the circus to take them. Because they are INSANE. :) –aag
Hmmm…. I agree that if you’ve never questioned being a parent you REALLY don’t know what you’re in for!!
My daughter cried every day from 4PM to 8PM from the time she was 3 months old until maybe 9 months old??
That’s just life… she’s 16 now ane we’re friends… go figure!!
Anyway, if you’re not ready to auction a few years of your life away you probably shouldn’t hav them…
Just my opinion…
I agree 100% with bzh and I have told a few of my friends to simply call me in a few months right after they announce the birth of their child. I have yet to see the infant that comes with instructions!
Look at any talk show that councils couples – Dr. Phil, Oprah, etc. The people in trouble all have small children! There is a reason for that.
My wife finally got around to cursing my 10 year old daughter yesterday. You know the curse, “I hope you have a daughter just like you”
Sometimes I still want to sell my son to the circus and he’s 23.
You’re definitely not a bad mother.
Trust me, you’re not the only one. Sometimes new parents are babes themselves…babes in the woods.
My first child was unplanned, and I was certainly NOT prepared for a baby, when I was only a baby myself (19 at the time). The entire first week, I think I cried more than he did. In the months, and now years that have followed, there have been many a dark day, when I wished I had held fast to using proper birth control. It’s the nature of parenting.
I wish your friend and his partner and their new addition the best of luck, and I expect you’ll be taken up on your kind offer in the not-so-distant future.
Ugh. Gotta say, I don’t think much of your friend. “Maybe it won’t be so bad for me, because I can leave it up to
the wet nursemy wife if things get ugly.” Granted, a lot of men do just that, but they aren’t quite so shameless about announcing it.As for you? No. You’re not a bad mother. You’re three steps past amazing. The stories you and the others on this thread tell reinforce my decision to never be a parent – it’s a job I’m just not suited for. You? You keep volunteering for it. You show all of those little munchkins the kind of love that most people can only muster for people they personally made. That’s a rare and wonderful thing.
Eh, he’s new.
I thought I could study for my comps when my eldest was a newborn.
Bwahahahahhahaha.
:)
This very topic is one of the reasons I enjoy your words so very much, aag. As a single mother of two wonderful, beautiful, awe-inspiring, yet completely derranged little ones, I read your posts about ‘the boy’ smearing feces from his diaper on the walls of his room, and think ‘Holy shit…how horrendous! i just can’t imagine…what kind of child does THAT?” And then i wake up to similar fecal inspired artwork, or an entire nasal passage full of boogers smeared onto said wall (which for the un-initiated, quickly develop qualities similar to concrete once dried) and after desperate and ill-advised attempts from older sister to blame all offenses on the cat, when the shock and odor wear off, commence to chuckle that no, I’m not the first, nor the last, and that this too shall pass. And it always does.
So thanks, dear friend whom I’ve never met, for putting it into perspective for me. My mental health and well being are indebted to you more than you can possible know. I hope you enjoyed the holidays!
xoxo
Melissa
Deranged is a good word for it. They are very small insane people.
:)
Poor fellow is just delusional.
Mine are 2 & 4. The 2 year old is cutting molars. The 4 year old decided to “write the rules” on my freshly painted walls. But AH HA I had used washable paint!!
When my elder was a newborn she cried for hours. 9 hours at a time usually from 9 PM to 6 AM every night/morning. Seriously. One time we left her crying in her crib and went to the garage, got in the car, and turned on the stereo.
I’m single and home with my kids 80% of the time. Trust me. There are many days I would pay someone to take them.
You aren’t a “bad” mother. You’re a mother. Someday we will all get to humilate these wild monkeys we are told are children by regailing their potential mates with these same stories. :)
The only people I know who think they have parenting figured out are those who have never had any kids and spew their theories as fact.
For the rest of us, I figured out about 30 years ago when midwifing that the realities of parenting are the biggest secret on the planet. Personally, I think it’s a conspiracy. If anyone truly knew what it was all about, they would NEVER have that first one.
And yet, somehow we continue to have multiples and survive. And enjoy it. And find that these little deranged Attilla The Hunlettes are the loves of our lives. I mean, what the fuck is wrong with us that somehow the agony of five sleepless nights is completely forgotten when they smile at us the first time? Or giggle…or point their chubby little finger and get all excited when they see us?
And the poo? My eldest, mother of my two grandsons, not only did art with hers, but ate it. She loves it when I remind her.
It truly is brutal.
My divorce, by the way, just became final.
The little years were in fact tough. Every couple I know with small ones has all kinds of trouble. When they get older, it gets easier. When your youngest is over age 5, then the good times start.
But if you’re not compatible, it’s still no good. My ex and I had about six beautiful wonderful months together, around the time we had passed the get-the-youngest-into-kindergarden mark. We even started to love each other. That process got deepened for the next six months as we weathered an illness together and still got along wonderfully. But then when all was better we realized we are not compatible people. The next year was miserable, and the last year has been lawyers and forms and settlements and paperwork.
He changed because he’s not with you– he’s happier on his own. You’ve changed too, and grown, and blossomed (which has been fun to watch on your blog!), because you’re not with him. You too are happier on your own. If you were together, neither of you would have grown learned anything except how to be more miserable.
Why couldn’t he have been this way before? Because he was married. You were too, and you wouldn’t have been this way before either.
I’ll never forget a conversation I had with a former colleague a few months after my second child was born. I had just finished explaining that I could barely remember my name because I was getting so little sleep. My youngest was crying about every two hours. She would only cry for about 2-5 minutes but just long enough to kill the sleep cycles of the household. He had three kids and said, “Don’t you just find yourself thinking, if I could just tape their mouth closed for 5 minutes, or find some other way to shut them up…? I would really scare myself sometimes…”
Then there are the hearts (the special christmas-time hearts made of glass not plastic so they won’t pop) and the hugs and the special happiness songs. I wouldn’t trade those… Unless the circus was in town and offering a really good trade-in price… but those moments are (for now) fewer and further between.
Mine are 18 and 13 .. and I’m still mad at something my wife once said… “Let’s have kids”
Seriously.. for all the pain and frustration, wouldn’t trade it… that includes the bleary eyed stumbling down the hall at 2am thinking “I can’t keep on doing this.”
A friend told me once when they were younger (hers are slightly older than mine): “I wish I could tell you it gets better.. it just gets … different.”
Ignorant and happy, indeed!
You are certainly not the first, and there’s a damn good reason I only have one. He’s 20 now – I was his age when he was born.
I thank my higher power that I had lots of support from my oldest stepson (then 13), Mom, MIL and others. I’m not certain that either of us would have survived the colic and screaming, otherwise.
I remember vividly the first time he slept through the night. I woke up in a panic thinking I either slept through him crying or something was wrong.
I’m constantly amazed at how much more patient I am with little ones now, knowing that the fussy period DOES end – Shortly before they become teenagers and cop major ‘tude.
Congrats and best wishes to your friend and his new family. You might want to copy these comments and share them with them in 8 months. ;-)
Tried to “Ferberize” each of my girls.
Lost both times.
The second time, I was on the verge of joining in the screaming.
They’re not having any problems developing their independence now that they’re new-teen and pre-teen.
But they do still have me wrapped around their little fingers.
Children would be much better if they came out at age 4, pre-potty trained, and ready to play Tball. :-)
Age 4 is the best? Are you sure about this?
:)
Everyone in my life wonders why I decided not to have children? I should have them read these comments.
Seriously, I knew long ago that I didn’t want to be a parent and reading comments like these just reminds me that I’m right. Strangely enough, I work at a childrens’ clothing store-I love my job-I spend a few hours a day working around kids, then I get to go to my kid-free home.
Finally, I have nothing but admiration for anyone who decides to become a parent, it is definitely a full time job.
Age 4 is the best so far! I’ll let you know if they get better. :-)
Why are so few women honest like you? My friend, a mom, thinks she’s the only one who ever wants to strangle her own kid. I’m going to link this page to her.
Any mother who hasn’t had a “bad mommy” moment is lying or is frighteningly unnatural!