What I am going to say to you is 100% unedited. I am sparing nothing. You must read this in its entirety, every single word.
Missing your prom and your homecoming dance can't hold a candle to what you have coming.
Yes- babies are cute. And they have cute little baby clothes. And people who have babies get showers. Showers that provide most everything you need for a baby. For like the first three months of baby. And then they grow. Actually morph. They morph into other beings..........beginning with toddlers and speeding on down the pike into preschoolers, kindergarteners, and then pre-teenagers.
Even babies and all their cuteness have their drawbacks. No, you don't see that because you're all 'I'm a teenager and I want to be loved forever by insert boys name and have his child and we'll be a family' *big ole' eye roll* Allow me to share.
Babies leak. They leak from their mouths, their eyes, and their behinds. And on most general days- you will wipe up said leakage............with your shirt. Yes- your same shirt that you will be wearing for the next 14 years because you will never again have the money, time or energy to shop for any more clothing. And they spit up. Huge. And it generally spews from their mouths like they are posessed. Again, you will use yourself to shield your surroundings. It's not 'cute'.
Nor will you be. I have left the house after sleeping for 3 hours a night- not in a row either- and realized while on the way to wherever I was going (which face it, is the pediatrician because you will live there for the first year of juniors life) that I had not brushed my teeth. You loose track of your days when you don't sleep, but you are certain that it had been at least 12 hours since you had properly cleaned your mouth. And you will try to do it with a caffiene free diet pepsi and your finger- because it's all you've got. And there you will be with your 2 day old pony tail, spit up stained shirt and semi sparkly-semi brown fuzzy teeth and no deodorant. But you will not care because you remembered the baby. And that should count for something.
I could go through every stage and describe why it is going to weigh on you like a brick boat, but I won't.
I will share just the highlights.
You will find yourself standing at your washing machine picking out grape skins, raisins and corn after washing puked on bedding, clothing, rugs. And you will wish that there was someone, ANYONE, who would do that for you. But you will be all alone with a handful of partially digested food.
Everything you own will be covered in urine. Your carpets, laundry, bedskirts, small plastic cups that belong to toys- all filled with pee. I will limit this to typically just a boy problem, so you've got a 50% shot.
You won't get to order what you want anymore IF you get to go out somewhere to eat. Because IF you are out some where and you order one of those frozen fabulous alcoholic beverages- it simply will NOT be worth wrestling a toddler for the duration of your meal while trying to explain why they can't have it. They will have a giant tantrum, not eat their food, and probably spill it all over the place anyway. I hope you like water- it's your best bet. Plus- until they get old enough to warrant their own entire meal, they are mooching off your plate which means no blackened chicken or cajun anything for you. Mild and flavorless- you'll take one of those............with water.
You will have no 'pretties' in your home................seen any in a house with little kids lately? No. You haven't because they are all broken or hidden away. People with kids don't get pretties. They get artwork made out of legos.
You will find yourself in an emergency room with your *broken, sick, swallowed broken glass, shoved a runts candy in their hoo-ha, needing stitches* child (choose a scenario- chances are you will experience them all but hopefully not at one time- although it's possible) and you are going to be questioned and questioned and questioned as trained medical staff try to decide if you are a neglectful parent. Good times.
At some point you will pull over on the highway to dig out whatever it is that your child has dropped and is WHALING about. It is not necessary, they would survive without it for 10 minutes until you get where you are going, but you will stop anyway. Because you can't handle any more WHALING. Again- you will wish for help or extra arms- but you will have neither.
You don't get to pick what is on tv anymore. Face it. But you will learn to like Caillou- and the most philisophical thoughts you will posess are why he is still just a kid who's four, after like 12 years.
In the middle of the night you will wake up and have to pee, but you won't. You will instead lay there for two hours 'holding it' because you know that if you get up your little sweetie will wake up. And it's not worth it.
Nothing will be relaxing anymore. Because even in the rare occassion that you get a moment to yourself, your mind will be filled with your child and the things you must do for their care. Even during sex. It kind of takes the fun out of it.
Although I would trade not a single moment of this motherhood gig, I can honestly say that waiting to have offspring until I was older was one of my wiser decisions. At least then I was married to the man who had to at least offer to scrub vomit out of the carpet (even though he won't) and ensure me that I don't look like a disaster- even though I do.
This my friends is all the birth control I have to offer. Hope it inspires you to hold off on those cute little babies for a few years.
But not forever- because every destroyed candle holder, stained blouse, and gummy bear infused vehicle is completely worth it.
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