- I LOVE sleeping - kids apparently do not like sleeping. What they like is to wake up in the middle of the night and scream as if I've severed one of their limbs. They also like to do this multiple times throughout the night so that they can be sure that you are so exhausted that couldn't possibly keep yourself from crying less than three times in a 24 hour period. I think kids know exactly when you are in the deepest form of sleep. They wait until the right moment and then BAM - wake the eff up mommy my a$$ is hung-garee.
- I'm vain - What if I can't lose my "baby weight"? What if I'm like one of those people on that TLC show "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" who is still fat from their previous pregnancy that they don't even know that they are pregnant with another child? Or if I'm like one of those people you see on the metro who you think you should offer your seat, but you aren't 100% certain, and you don't want to be the bish who offers a seat to a person who looks to be pregnant but isn't and then you are just like the worst human alive. What if that happens to me?
- I like my boobs - am I a bad person if I'm afraid that my boobs are going to stretch and drop and look like inflated pancakes? OMG I'm starting to tear up right now just thinking about that situation. My boobs are awesome. Coal Miner loves my boobs. What if I decide to let one of my little spawns breast feed and then I have not cute boobs. And then Coal Miner isn't attracted to me and I have to wait to get a boob job b/c I can't get one until I'm done having kids. The horror.
- I don't want a child to interfere with my unlimited mobile-to-mobile minutes - There is nothing I hate more that talking on the phone and someone being completely distracted b/c their child is tugging on their leg or screaming for something in the background. Mommy is trying to have a conversation so please shut your face for a few minutes. I am a terrible person, I already know this.
- I don't know how to say no nicely - its a problem, no IT IS. My "no" usually consists of some horrid facial expression and a tone that could injure even the strongest self esteem levels. Add to that the fact that I think children should completely understand and comprehend, no matter the age, why I'm saying no...well that's just a recipe for disaster.
- I have zero patience - I get irritated when...well when don't I get irritated? I'm the most irritated person I know. I mean I defend this by saying that adults should just "know better" but I bet I start saying "oh come on, that kid should know better!"
- I like my weekends - my friend called me the other day from the soccer field. She told me that she had soccer at 9am, a birthday party at noon, another birthday party at 2pm and it was only Saturday. KILL ME NOW. She then started to cry a little until I told her that we could have wine on a school night b/c I would man up for that (I don't usually drink on school nights b/c it affects my super engaged mindset while I'm at my super engaging job) and b/c I could hear the desperation in her voice. She sniffled and said in a tiny whisper "thank you." I mean are you a bad mom b/c you'd rather get drunk than sit through two 3-year old birthday parties in one day? I don't think so.
- I'm already exhausted and don't have time to workout - I get home now at like 7pm, after leaving at 7am. I'm exhausted. I'm hungry. I just sat in traffic. Its too hot for me to go running. I don't have a gym membership. And I'm getting fat. What happens once a child comes into the mix? What happens to my "hungry, flabby, no time to workout self" then?!?!
- If I have to do another load of laundry I'll punch someone - I seriously cannot handle the amount of laundry that has come into my life since Coal Miner has come into my life. I swear to the heavens above that man never wears anything twice. All of the laundry I do is his. And freaking clothes are all over the floor, and I have to pick them up, and wash them, and blah blah blah. Adding another individual's laundry to my current 3+ loads a week sounds like nightmare on elm street 14. WORSE!
So you can see these are just a few of the reasons I probably wouldn't win Mother of the Year, well, ever. Am I bad person or is it normal to think you are going to be the worst mom ever?