What If a Baby Happens?

My whole life, I've felt like I wasn't meant to be a mom. When I was a kid my cousins and I played make-believe house, and we always had pets and animals, but I don't remember lots of pretend people babies. My Barbies were always out on dates with GI Joe; they were never really home with their families. I grew up in a home day care, and I loved playing with the kids my mom watched, but they were definitely more of a fun accessory than something I wanted to take care of. I liked being able to play with them until they cried. I liked pushing them in the stroller at the mall. I liked to dress them in goofy outfits with my friends.

Thinking about it now, by the way, Barbie was really just such a hussy.

I've just always felt I was meant to do other things with my life than raise a child. I've felt I was meant to go new places, to see new things. I've felt I was meant to do something else, to make waves, to live in the moment. Kids have always been something I don't want. And I've really never swayed from that. I've just preferred more...well, more interchangeable accessories. I get bored of my purse in like 90 days, and I hear you can't trade kids in for an upgrade.

But then...what if??

Day Two of my 30 Day Blog Challenge: What is something you always say "what if" to?

What if I get pregnant on accident?

What if I change my mind? What if I get pregnant on purpose?

What if I watch all these other women mom-ing (yes, I made that a verb), and I think I could do it as well as any of them? What if I decide that mom-ing doesn't mean your life of excitement and passion is over?

What if I tell my family I might want a baby someday, and they all actually die of shock? With them all wiped out, who would help me?

What if I miss my period and totally freak out and have myself completely convinced I'm pregnant, and then what if for a brief second, I'm not completely horrified at the thought? What if a part of me reacts with, that might not really be so horrible?

What if a doctor confirms that I am unable to make a baby of my own and I'm sad instead of relieved? I mean, I have't been on any birth control in almost two years, and I'm not knocked up yet.

Then what?

I have always said, being a mom is not in my cards. Always. I've never wanted to mom. I've been too busy wanting to travel, to work and get promoted, to grow, to learn. I've been too consumed with my desire to live just for myself, to spend money selfishly, to spend time on myself. My desire to sit in silence with a stack of books has far outweighed my need to change diapers in the middle of the night.

And yet, this is the subject in which I always wonder, what if.

Despite the fact that I don't actually have a desire to parent a child, I do believe I'd be a really good mom, should I ever become one - accidentally or on purpose. Aside from the fact that my mother is the actual Baby Whisperer, and aside from the fact that I was raised in a home where she cared for a multitude of small children at a time, I think instinctively I would be good at mom-ing. I never thought that before until recently. I always thought I'd be overly paranoid about things, overly aggressive about others, and just overly selfish in all areas where a good parent is selfless instead.

Even so, I claim to be selfish with time and money, as I sit here on the phone with Blake, making a birthday ice cream date and ordering his new Spider-Man sheets on Amazon. I'm apparently not that selfish with my time and money; I always have time for the people in my life under five years old. I call them on the phone, I buy them things, I take them places...and I do all of these things on purpose.

Clearly being a mother is not the same as being an aunt. I'm just using this as an example of my ability to keep a child safe, fed, and happy for a duration of time, thus my assumption that I may be able to do it for longer than a weekend.

More recently than I care to admit, I had to ask myself the big question among single women who try to be careful but sometimes fuck up: what if I'm pregnant?

What would I do?

And by what would I do, I do of course mean, what bridge would I choose to free fall from?

And after much freak out, after much frantic time spent on the phone (and sadly, also on WebMD), after much calming the fuck down, it occurred to me that you can plan your life a certain way all you want. But as I learned from that fucking life-ruining psychic in Vegas this spring, the Universe will find a way to work your shit out for you. You can plan all you want, but sometimes, shit just happens and you have to learn to roll with it.

What if you just calm down, let life happen, and be flexible in your choices?

Also, what if you happen to make a baby that just goes perfectly with that new dress you just bought?

#Accessorize!!

I Think a Zombie Just Read My Mind

I don't believe in psychics. I think it's absurd. Crazy. I think people who claim to be psychic are just trying to scam people out of cash, and they latch onto gullible people who think someone is telling them the future when in reality are simply asking the right questions and giving vague answers.

I think psychics are fake.

Until they approach me in Las Vegas and without asking me anything at all, begin explaining who I am as a person, down to the nitty gritty, and hit every nail on the head. Until they read my best friend like a book, pointing out qualities in her that I would use to describe her only after having known her for several years. Until they tell me the exact same things a paid therapist has been telling me for the past twelve months.

At which point, I wonder...am I just a skeptic? Is this shit real? Am I too drunk? What just happened?

HOW DID SHE KNOW THAT?!

And then I proceed to wander through Planet Hollywood all night, drinking moscato, trying to connect the dots of the mind fuckery that just took place outside of the V Theater where I'd spent two hours in a dark room full of zombies performing an epic burlesque show.

***Side note, if you are ever in Vegas, see the Zombie Burlesque show at Planet Hollywood. Yes this is a shameless plug, but it was possibly the best $50 I've ever spent. Pay for VIP seats and enjoy it. It will blow your mind.

Anyway, back to my actual point. After seeing a show and having dinner, I was simply meandering the casino with Kattie and her sister Danielle, popping in and out of shops, maintaining a mellow buzz, people watching...nothing major. I feel like it is imperative to mention that I was not wasted at this moment; my logic was not out the window here. We were walking towards the casino floor from the miracle mile shops when this woman approached us and asked if we'd ever seen a psychic (nope). She asks if we believe in them (nope). She asks if we're interested in a reading (nope).

Then she just starts talking to Kattie. And I mean telling Kattie who she is as a person, what she is struggling with, what she's succeeding at. She is literally reading Kattie to us as though she's known Kattie forever. She did not ask us one single question - not even our names - and she is spewing things about Kattie that I thought no one knew but me. How is this happening?!? I'm trying to pick my jaw up off the floor when she turns to Danielle and starts explaining her personality to her, offering her insight to the big life decisions she's trying to make - after telling her what her life problems are, mind you. Because remember, she didn't ask us one damn thing at all!

It was insane. My eyes were as big as saucers and Kattie's jaw hit the ground, while Danielle just stood there shaking her head - all of us in disbelief, and all of our skepticism fading.

After giving Kattie and Danielle the life 4-1-1, she turns to me and starts talking. About my family, about the way I feel about them. About the traumatic past relationship I was in that left me with a huge wall up around me. About the ways I can let that wall crumble and move on with someone who has been there through it. About who I am and what I'm doing, and about how to come through it to be a happier person on the other side.

At this point, I am honestly believing her. She's accurately assessed all three of us in a matter of minutes. She hasn't asked a single question. She hasn't asked for money or an appointment for anything further. She is just speaking, in the middle of a shopping mall, and literally breaking it down to each of us. I'm shocked, but I am buying it. This lady is a legit, honest-to-goodness, can-see-into-your-soul, psychic medium.

And then she drops the bomb on me.

"You've been blessed with a large family, and you will continue to add to your family."

This bitch right here.

She goes on to tell me that I'm going to have twins. Twins. Yes, me. Twins. Like when you have two babies inside you at the same time, and then have to shove them both out of your lady business in the same day. Twins, like, not ever sleeping or being alone in a room again. And she follows up that little gem with the fact that not only will I have twins, but that then I will also have a third child, just to round out the reality of my worst nightmare: being outnumbered by babies.

I refuted at this point. I told her I don't want kids, that I never want to have them, that I've never wanted to have them. She doesn't care, she reaffirms that she is sure of it. Only half-joking, I explain that I'd like to get my tubes tied this year. I am met with, "that won't help - if God (I'm not sure I believe in God, ma'am) or the Universe, then, desire to you to be a mother, it is out of your hands."

Well shit!

Here's the thing. Had she just come at me with that, or had she asked me anything about my life, my body, my choices, my birth control...oh I dunno, my NAME even...I would have written this off as some drunk broad in Vegas trying to scam me for a buck. But I am telling you, every single other thing she said was 100% on point for all three of us. And then, though we'd parted ways going the opposite direction as her, we then ran into her again about an hour later in the casino. And again she didn't want any money. She did not appear to want anything from us, did not seem to have any ulterior motive. It was like when that Teresa lady from the Long Island Medium show approaches strangers because their deceased parents are talking to her at Target or Starbucks.

As insane as it may seem, I feel desperately like I need to discuss this encounter with my therapist. Unfortunately she is on maternity leave, so my next appointment isn't until July 6th.

Hopefully I'm not knocked up with my twin babies by then, decorating a nursery with a baby-daddy I finally admitted I was in love with. I make this joke, of course, despite my growing fear of it being my impending reality.

What in the actual fuck?!?

This brings a whole new meaning to the phrase, what happens in Vegas...

Just Get Awesome

I have been thinking about this topic recently, and I've been avoiding mentioning it because I don't want to fight with anyone in my life with children.

This blog, just before all of my mom-friends start getting upset, was not inspired by any of my own close friends or my cousins. It was mostly inspired by Huffington Post, actually, as well as by a conversation with my therapist that I'll elaborate on later.

So with that, I'm just going to say it. 

It's not my fault that you have kids and I don't. 

Say what??

I read a blog recently on Huffington Post, about all the reasons why those of us without kids need to be more patient with our friends who have kids, including that their life is just too damn busy to have a spare moment in the day. And while it was funny - and a lot of it true to life - I also found it really irritating. Because the simple fact is, whether you have kids or not, you don't get to be a shitty friend.

I know that you have kids because you want to. People have kids because they want to have kids; they want to raise a little human, give someone life, add meaning to their own lives, and any other myriad of reasons. People want kids. I totally understand that; I know the fact that I do not want children puts me in the minority among women my age. I also understand that your life, your priorities, and your routines change when you have kids. How could they not? Kids take a ton of time and energy! They make giant messes that you have to clean, and they have to nap at certain times and eat at certain times, and they are a bitch to get in and out of a car. They make you tired, wear you out, and despite all that you still want to spend the two hours between picking them up from daycare and putting them to bed, with them. Kids are a major time suck, albeit a pleasant-ish one. I get it.

When you become a parent, your priorities change - obviously. Most major life transitions require a change in perspective, a change in lifestyle, a change in time management. And as more or my friends and family have become moms, I have changed my expectations of them; I no longer expect that I can plan a cousin's trip to Vegas for my birthday, nor do I think I can drag them all out to a club every weekend. I spend a lot more time at birthday parties, at playgrounds, having quick dinners in. I know that I have to filter my conversations because of the little ears listening, and I listen to a lot more stories about what someone did for the first time or said that was funny. I watch more cartoons and buy more board games & puzzles, and I am understanding that for every ten things I invite these moms to, they attend (maybe) two. Again, I get it. The kid, the energy, the time suck - the struggle is real for moms.

That said, why are those of us without kids the only ones making the accommodation, making the sacrifice? Why are those of us who can spend every birthday out of town, who can spend every weekend out until three in the morning, who want to drink and dance and have an uninterrupted conversation about sex - why are we the ones who are made to feel like we're wrong, or needy, or demanding of our friends' time? In reality, we are spending a hell of a lot of time with your kids, just to get a minute with you; why don't you ever have to accommodate us in return? Why aren't you ever getting a babysitter and a caffeine IV drip and pacifying me by talking about guys and sex and staying out all night with me? Not even pacifying really, why aren't you still being my friend and making that effort because you want to?

After having an hour-long conversation with my therapist about it, I think the answer is pretty simple: it's because women in their thirties are expected to have young children, and since so many of them do, those of us who don't are just expected to deal with the fact that our friends had babies and started sucking at friendship.

Blogs like the one Huffington Post made viral are part of the problem; that post made excuses for why as a parent, you can act like a selfish, crappy friend and get away with it. If I were to start telling my friends, every time they tried to make plans, that I was too tired or too busy, my friends would stop trying. They'd stop trying because I'd be acting like a shitty friend - constantly being too tired and too busy for your friends, in fact makes you a shitty friend. Whether you're too tired because you were out all night hooking up with guys in bars, or because you were up all night with a baby, if it's consistently happening all the time, you're being a crappy friend for not making an effort. True friendship is a two way street. If I am always chasing someone down begging them to spend time with me, I am quick on my way to not being friends with that person anymore.

Ain't nobody got time for that shit.

I spend a lot of time hanging out with children, because most of my friends, and most of my cousins, are parents. And as much as I love spending time with the babies, toddlers, and rugrats in my life, I am also thrilled when my friends or my cousins can leave them home with dad or grandma to have a night out with me, to go to the beach or on a hike with me, or even to just talk without interruption for a few hours. With friendships, it is important to maintain balance, and it's important that efforts are being made on both sides. If you're a single, childless friend, it's your responsibility to bond with your friends' children, to hang out with them sometimes, and to make plans that are easy for your overtired mom friends. Their struggle is real; they live with those energy-eaters alldayeveryday. But - as is the focus of this post - if you're a mom friend, it is also your responsibility to get a little wild with your single friends sometimes, and to sometimes make plans that don't involve your children. Because really, if you're dragging your baby to every outing I invite you on, you're being a little bit of a selfish ass hole.

And though our struggle is different, the single woman's struggle is just as real.

What it all boils down to, is that to be a friend, you have to actually be a friend. No excuses, no bull shit. You can't have a constant excuse - baby or hangover - for why you're being a shitty friend. Make time for your friends, no matter what life changes are coming at you.

#stopblamingthebaby.