•Monday, July 27, 2009
Two nights ago, I actually couldn't sleep. Normally I could fall asleep standing up on a crowded train with a screaming child next to me. I can't remember the last time I couldn't sleep.
But my husband Sean had just returned from a trip to Buffalo to see my sister, her new husband, and all of my friends. Why couldn't I go? Because I had to work and had already taken off too much time last month because of all the weddings my family had (I swear, I'm not complaining...). My job doesn't offer vacation time, and if I had driven home with him, I couldn't have worked at the restaurant on Friday and Saturday night, so I would have missed out on making $250. That would have been a double whammy.
My sister and her husband were talking with Sean about having kids, and how they want to wait for a little while. But they're Catholic, and not allowed to use birth control, so I'm giving it about a year before I have a nephew or niece. We all know how well the rhythm method works.
On Saturday night, after I had worked a 9 hour shift, and Sean came home, he and I were cuddling and he asked if I was still sure that I didn't want to have kids. Sean and I have always agreed that we didn't want to have kids, or at least that it wasn't terribly likely. He said he just wanted to keep the idea on the horizon and though he didn't want to have kids now, he maybe wanted to in the future. After about 10 minutes, he and the dog were fast asleep and I was wide awake and feeling constricted both physically and mentally, so I went downstairs to listen to Counting Crows and explore the mysteries of Wikipedia until 5am. I hate and love Wikipedia. It can be so inaccurate, but the level of entertainment is astounding. I went from reading about rock lyrics to Greek Mythology to tentacle erotica(ick) in about 10 minutes.
I've had the 'I don't want babies - ever' conversation about ten thousand times, and 99% of the time it's the same reaction: 'Oh, you won't feel that way forever.' Actually, whenever I say something to the effect of 'I don't want kids,' my old co-worker would reply in a giddy tone, 'Yeah, my wife said that too.' He has a 3 year old kid who actually is cute.
But think about it for a minute, why would you ask if I want kids? Right now, I'm a very angry and bitter person. For the past 3 years I've had to work over 80 hours a week to make ends meet. I see a friend or two maybe once a month and talk to my family about that much. My co-workers don't bother asking me what I did over the weekend on Monday mornings anymore. I'm jealous that most people don't have to be anywhere after they clock out at 5pm. Most of my free time is spent working out, and then feeling angry that I don't have time to do anything else. When I am home, I have a husband who I need time with, I have chores to do, and a dog who is constantly whining for attention.
"Well, yeah not now obviously, but what about in a few years when you're not working as much?"
When you've been keeping up this routine for 3 years, does it seem possible to imagine life differently? I can't see past how I'm living right now. I have dreams that I only work 50 hours a week. I dream that I get up, go to work at 8, get out at 5, from Monday through Friday. Those are my dreams. When I relax and go to my 'happy place,' I don't think about being on a sandy beach with a mai thai in my hand, I think about going home after work. About having a whole day off without an agenda or a single thing I have to do. Asking me if in a few years I'd like to have a kid when I'm ::snort:: 'not as busy' is like asking you how you'd like living on the moon, when the technology becomes avaliable.
There's enough shitty parents out there who raise some pretty shitty children. At least I know enough that an overworked bitch probably shouldn't have a child just because she has a vagina.
But my husband Sean had just returned from a trip to Buffalo to see my sister, her new husband, and all of my friends. Why couldn't I go? Because I had to work and had already taken off too much time last month because of all the weddings my family had (I swear, I'm not complaining...). My job doesn't offer vacation time, and if I had driven home with him, I couldn't have worked at the restaurant on Friday and Saturday night, so I would have missed out on making $250. That would have been a double whammy.
My sister and her husband were talking with Sean about having kids, and how they want to wait for a little while. But they're Catholic, and not allowed to use birth control, so I'm giving it about a year before I have a nephew or niece. We all know how well the rhythm method works.
On Saturday night, after I had worked a 9 hour shift, and Sean came home, he and I were cuddling and he asked if I was still sure that I didn't want to have kids. Sean and I have always agreed that we didn't want to have kids, or at least that it wasn't terribly likely. He said he just wanted to keep the idea on the horizon and though he didn't want to have kids now, he maybe wanted to in the future. After about 10 minutes, he and the dog were fast asleep and I was wide awake and feeling constricted both physically and mentally, so I went downstairs to listen to Counting Crows and explore the mysteries of Wikipedia until 5am. I hate and love Wikipedia. It can be so inaccurate, but the level of entertainment is astounding. I went from reading about rock lyrics to Greek Mythology to tentacle erotica(ick) in about 10 minutes.
I've had the 'I don't want babies - ever' conversation about ten thousand times, and 99% of the time it's the same reaction: 'Oh, you won't feel that way forever.' Actually, whenever I say something to the effect of 'I don't want kids,' my old co-worker would reply in a giddy tone, 'Yeah, my wife said that too.' He has a 3 year old kid who actually is cute.
But think about it for a minute, why would you ask if I want kids? Right now, I'm a very angry and bitter person. For the past 3 years I've had to work over 80 hours a week to make ends meet. I see a friend or two maybe once a month and talk to my family about that much. My co-workers don't bother asking me what I did over the weekend on Monday mornings anymore. I'm jealous that most people don't have to be anywhere after they clock out at 5pm. Most of my free time is spent working out, and then feeling angry that I don't have time to do anything else. When I am home, I have a husband who I need time with, I have chores to do, and a dog who is constantly whining for attention.
"Well, yeah not now obviously, but what about in a few years when you're not working as much?"
When you've been keeping up this routine for 3 years, does it seem possible to imagine life differently? I can't see past how I'm living right now. I have dreams that I only work 50 hours a week. I dream that I get up, go to work at 8, get out at 5, from Monday through Friday. Those are my dreams. When I relax and go to my 'happy place,' I don't think about being on a sandy beach with a mai thai in my hand, I think about going home after work. About having a whole day off without an agenda or a single thing I have to do. Asking me if in a few years I'd like to have a kid when I'm ::snort:: 'not as busy' is like asking you how you'd like living on the moon, when the technology becomes avaliable.
There's enough shitty parents out there who raise some pretty shitty children. At least I know enough that an overworked bitch probably shouldn't have a child just because she has a vagina.
0 comments: