Play dates and arts and crafts and bed time stories and dancing in the sunshine. Bollocks. I call bullshit. Whoever told you it’s like that is lying to you. It’s about 5% that. The other 95% is just sheer hard work. Some days the only thing that keeps me going is the knowledge that children die if you don’t look after them.
You don’t even get piss breaks. They’ll whine and throw themselves onto the floor until you give in and take them with you, just to make the noise stop. You’ll never keep an outfit clean all day again. Your favorite things will probably be the ones that get stains on. You may as well never buy anything new again. Fuck it, just wear pajamas.
If you thought you were tired after a long day at work, think again. You have no concept of the meaning of the word tired until you have kids. Exhausted, drained, fatigued, call it what you will, it will make you want to curl up in a ball and cry. Going to work is the only escape from the actual work. No paid job can be this tough, it’d be inhumane.
All those happy memes spouting tripe about it ‘totally being worth it’, ‘the most precious gift’ and children being ‘my reason for living’ make me queasy. It’s relentless nagging and overwhelming responsibility. I just need to find the perfect photo to fit the caption.
Children drain your bank balance, your health, your mental state. They ruin your home, your sanity, your dignity. My advice? Don’t bother.
