Loading
Welcome to Babble,
Settings
Sign Out

Get the Babble Newsletter!

Already have an account? .

MENU

Another Baby? No Thanks.

I guess by some standards, I started early.

Three kids by the time I reached 28 and I was done having babies (What? We live in Ohio, it’s boring in the winter). So much so, that we sealed the deal with the champagne bottle to the boat of contraception, a shiny new vasectomy.

But, while we reached that phase of our lives, our friends were just getting started. Which means? Babies. So many babies.

At first, it was like, ugh, they smelled so good, y’all. They were soft and shiny and they giggled when I talked to them, not, like, rolled their eyes all, mooommmmm stopppp Godddddddd.

Babies love me. They’re cool just sitting there snuggling with me, they don’t care what I watch on television, and I don’t have to share my candy with them.

A vasectomy, Andy? What were we thinking, we’ve made a grave mistake.

Um, no we haven’t. We’re done having kids. Besides, you hated babies.

What? I did not! I love babies, and they adore me!

No way, the infant stage was horrible, and you complained the entire time. You just think you want babies because you get to see the cute side of them when your friends bring them over. You don’t see the bad stuff.

When I sat there and thought about it, he was right. I had to learn to cope.

Operation Ovary Chill Out, commence.


  • Babies cry and they don’t sleep. 1 of 6
    Babies cry and they don't sleep.
    I have a very distinct memory laying in my bed next to the bassinet containing our first born, putting a pillow over my face, and screaming. Until you get to the point, a few months in, where your body just accepts the lack of sleep as the new norm, it's hell. Like one endless screening of Beverly Hills Ninja. I mean, you love Chris Farley, so you'll watch, but you'll be miserable the whole time.
  • Babies hurt coming out. 2 of 6
    Babies hurt coming out.
    I know we are supposed to say we don't remember the pain, because in the end we get a baby and it's totally worth it, but I'm allergic to epidurals, and I totally remember the pain. And even if I didn't, I remember the hemorrhoids... and the post-labor cramping... and the first bowel movement.
  • You can’t rationalize with babies. 3 of 6
    You can't rationalize with babies.
    Between the gas and the wet diapers and the hunger and the zillions of razor sharp teeth they have coming in, babies are miserable human beings the first year or so of their lives, and their misery is your misery. The cooing and smiles are great, but then the baby starts to cry, and it's your job to guess why. Sometimes you find the answer, and the baby stops. Other times, there is no answer.
  • Babies are not potty trained. 4 of 6
    Babies are not potty trained.
    This seems like a pretty duh situation, but it's one of those things you don't realize sucks until you actually have a potty-trained kid to compare it to. Pee and poop that goes in the toilet with relatively no direct contact on your part is a wonderful, wonderful thing. Plus, it's basically free. Unlike diapers, which are not free.
  • Babies limit cocktails. 5 of 6
    Babies limit cocktails.
    Nothing cock-blocks a Happy Hour like nursing. First, if you're breastfeeding, drinking is almost entirely off limits, save for the occasional pump-and-dump scenario, but trust me, nothing is as much of a punch to the gut as pouring that tainted liquid gold down the sink. But even if you're not nursing, having babies in bars is frowned upon... apparently.
  • You can’t MacGyver a baby. 6 of 6
    You can't MacGyver a baby.
    I've been known to give a toddler a whore's bath in a gas station bathroom, and can sink wash the hell out of a pair of undies and pants in a pinch, but all the overnight maxis pads in the world does not a diaper make. There are certain things babies need, usually at night when all the stores are closed or located in the middle of nowhere, that you simply can't fake. Like diapers, bottles, and pacifiers. No not that, the other one. THE OTHER ONLY OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDD.

FacebookTwitterGoogle+TumblrPinterest
Tagged as:

Use a Facebook account to add a comment, subject to Facebook's Terms of Service and Privacy Policy. Your Facebook name, profile photo and other personal information you make public on Facebook (e.g., school, work, current city, age) will appear with your comment. Learn More.

FacebookTwitterGoogle+TumblrPinterest