I am an adult and I hate kids

I am an adult.

 

I hate kids.

The diapers, the vomit, the baby wipes, the lack of sleep, trying to understand their non-verbal signals, the anxiety, the helplessness, the feedings, the wishing their pain could be taken away

I hate kids.

The tantrums, the odors, the crying, the whining, the questions, the sniveling, the shouting, the nightmares, the backtalk, the messiness

I hate kids.

Telling them no, punishments, homework, teaching, listening, lying to them, lying for them, protecting them

 

I hate kids.

School pick-up lines, fulfilling their every need, sleepovers, explaining death, giving them freedom

I hate kids.

Untangling of knots, shoe tying, their lack of listening, sneaking, pickiness, stubbornness, incessant gibberish, loudness, irritability, attitude

I hate kids.

Teaching them bicycle riding and kissing boo-boos, spending money on their toys and games that are played with for 3 days and then hidden amongst the dust bunnies under the bed, morning wake-ups, buying clothes that they pick out only to find the clothes buried along with the useless toys

I hate kids.

Losing of shoes, socks, hats, and other pieces of clothing, sticky surfaces in every room of the house, hair filled brushes, toothpaste in the sink, indescribable gunk in the bathtub that will never, ever come off

 I hate kids.

 
Paint, crayon, and pen on the walls, crayons left in the hot care that melted into the interior, the unknown goo that takes over the handle of every item with a handle, watching them walk and watching them fall
 

I hate kids.

Messy, uncombed hair, the dirty fingernails, the stinky feet, teaching them to read, seeing them fail, explaining life

I hate kids.

 

Mean kids, teaching them to defend themselves, listening to the same song over and over, watching the same movie over and over, playing the same game over and over, singing the same rhymes over and over

 

I hate kids.

The birds and the bees, gym class, being happy, teaching life’s lessons, embracing independence, overcoming embarrassment, becoming a successful member of society

I hate kids.

Long explanations, disapproval of choices, decision making triumphs, arguments, growing up

I hate kids.

Being in bed by 10pm because the kid will be awake by 6am, not being able to go out with friends on a school night because mom duty takes priority, not being able to party like a rock star because those damn kids need a parent, being responsible

 

I hate kids.

 

I hate it all and yet I wouldn’t drag my ragged, overworked ass out of bed each morning without expecting it.

The sheer innocence of my child, the not knowing that each of these things is slowly driving me insane is what keeps me from trading her to a stranger for half a candy bar and a postage stamp.

Having a child has forced me to accomplish things I never thought I would.  I have looked at things differently than I ever have.  I have discovered creative ways to explain, teach, and assist my child.  I have become a person I never thought I would be.  My child comes first when I think and do.  My child has taken over my life.

 I hate kids.

My kid is a life sucking beast who will steal my last breath and my will to live.

And she is worth it.

I am an adult.

PPB aka The Precious Princess - The Princess is a twice divorced, recently dumped, recently unemployed, self-proclaimed member of the mentally hilarious. She has been referred to as living under a rock stocked with vodka and anger. Her 12 year old “Mini”, who is carbon copy of the Princess, is often the subject of blogs, and Facebook posts. In addition, she writes about dating, the dumbness of boys, life after 40, and shares stories from Bananaland which is both her past and current residence. She is the owner/sole admin for the Facebook page Precious Princess's Guide to Bananaland where she is famous for her rants and her blunt, honest, and sarcastic look at life. She blogs both extremely funny and all-the-feels posts at Princess Bananaland. She hates people, kids, and karaoke. She uses all the swears and makes up dirty words. Eventually when she’s done being sloth-like, she will write a book. Be afraid.