I have read a plethora of articles about the incurred expense of babies and children, and the focus is normally on things like formula, Mommy and Me classes, and college tuition. Some costs that seem to have gone unnoticed (or purposely ignored?) are items like our sanity, waistlines, and various personal affects.
So today I would like to discuss the real cost of having children:
I nursed both of my kids. My stripper boobs were a definite plus, and if there were impromptu wet t-shirt contests held in our local grocery store, you would be looking at the winner. Alas, no one stuffed money into the waistband of my yoga pants, and clogged milk ducts hurt worse than giving birth. Ouch.
When my son was a year old, his chubby fists accidentally dumped my glass of orange juice, bathing my laptop in pulp. I ran into Best Buy sobbing, and walked out $1,500 poorer. I couldn’t even be mad at the kid; it was my dumb fault for hoisting my computer onto the breakfast table. That’s just it: I am now a moron.
Baby Brain is no joke, yo. Sleep deprivation and newborn paranoia heighten baby brain and, as a result, infants make us even dumber. I can never find my keys, I forget appointments, and I look a hot mess every day. My husband comes home from work, takes one look at me, and must want to run for the hills. Instead, he finds my keys, and then pretends to listen as I rant about that obnoxious bitch, Abby Cadabby on Sesame Street.
Maybe I could get used to walking around brainless if I looked better. I used to have abs. Nice ones. And I needed them to offset the jiggly-ness of my thighs and the robustness of my ass. Those abs are gone. My waist is no longer a waist, but a lump that sits on my fat hips and makes me want to cry when I bend over and see all the excess skin dangling there, mocking me. Some women are like, “Stretched out, dangly skin is a beautiful thing–that belly carried a baby!” I’m like, “give me a cookie.” Regular cardiovascular exercise would help, but I reserve running for the times when I am chased by a pack of rabid dogs. Also? I would rather sleep. I haven’t slept an entire night since the middle of 2008. Moms, I know you feel my pain. We have bags under our eyes and our hair is falling out. Our skin is sallow, our attitude is bad, and some days, we’re so out of it we forget to brush our teeth.
I have been working on my Masters degree for almost 6 years, but I keep having babies and now that degree is on the back burner. I wouldn’t trade my kiddos for a degree, but I only need 18 more credits! It’s right there, within reach! I can do it, but just the thought of adding one more thing to my proverbial plate makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a rusty fork.
The aforementioned costs are way more substantial than the usual expense associated with having and rearing children. Where is the article about this stuff?! Quit shoving the price tag of preschools down our throats, Parenting magazine; give it to us straight. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go brush my teeth.
A version of this post was originally published on WhenCrazyMeetsExhaustion.com