The Breeding Has Begun

Whoops a Daisy! Look everyone – I done an accident!

Overnight almost, it feels like my entire Facebook home page has erupted in a spate of breeding.

*groan*

It’s probably only going to get worse in time.

The horror, oh the horror.

My feelings on pregnancy haven’t changed one jot.

Sure, I’ve mellowed enough that I’m not half as belligerent as I used to be. Which is largely for the benefit of the people around me and not from any personal mellowing.

Would you believe me when I say I’m even able to competently congratulate some one on their latest baby?

Probably not, if you click on that link above.

When I re-read that post I’ve linked to above, I think it could have been written better and I could have expanded on a few of the more relevant points more clearly. It could also have been better structured and perhaps expressed more rationally, but that would hardly have been entertaining or been a proper rant, with all the fury and crazed typing that a rant requires.

Deep down, breeders still enrage me. I cannot, just cannot, get my head around the need to have more than one child. I just can’t.

Rationally I understand the female hormones – the biological clock and all that jazz, plus the inbuilt genetic trait that makes an animal want to back up its DNA multiple times in case of death. (siblings = back-ups) But equally rationally the death rate is so low and the population so high, resources are dwindling….anyway whatever. Sigh.

Regardless, the sight of a pregnant woman still just makes me feel slightly bilious inside.

The other day I saw one walking down the street (I know how insultingly that sentence reads, but this is not a politically correct blog. Tough.) her belly button turned inside-out, poking through her top, which was stretched tightly over her distended belly.

I had to turn my head and look away. It made me feel faintly ill. Outie belly buttons on distended bellies just fill me with revulsion.

So, my Facebook is breeding. Pictures of people with their offspring all over the place, like some horrible Auntie-Uncle social network.

I am suddenly aware that I will shortly be turning 30. All the females of my acquaintance will soon be lining up, legs spread akimbo on that great breeding conveyor belt, smugly popping ’em out one by one. Content in the belief that they are performing some amazing service for the world at large.

Riddhi will probably be next I imagine…

Oh god…

DONT DO IT RIDDHI!

YOU’LL BE SHACKLED FOR 18 YEARS!

18 YEARS RIDDHI!!!

Sigh.

I look forward to closer friendships with my male friends.

Or making more child free gay friends.

Advertisements

23 thoughts on “The Breeding Has Begun

  1. One day if you are privileged to witness the affection, gentleness and playfulness of an older sibling sharing perhaps it will move you.

  2. > I don’t subscribe to lopsided ideals.

    Why risk a relationship? You might get entangled with a wife-beater… You are probably right though. Your blog screams “it’s all about me, me, me.” You probably would raise self-centered kids would enjoy pounding the hell out of each other and anyone else they get their hands on. Wise decision on your part.

  3. That’s absurd and doesn’t even make sense in the context of this post – I’m hardly going to squirt a wife-beater out of my vagina and then have to raise it for 18 years.

    And one can leave a relationship; You can’t breed and then abandon your offspring.
    Or maybe you can. Who knows. Some breeders do.

    Secondly, of course my blogs screams “me me me”. It’s a blog. It’s an exercise in self absorption. What did you expect? Posts on behalf of other people? Read my about page.

  4. You don’t spare a single opportunity to write/speak(/think?) the word vagina… LOL. Such a gutter.

    On a more serious note… The Husband and I are contemplating just this- no kids, only dogs. I mean, its the recipe for lifelong unconditional love, isn’t it? But who knows… Maybe that damned “maternal instinct” will pop out, and arm-twist me into- breeding…

    Sometimes I wish mommmy-blogs (I am OBSESSED with those- like a bloody voyeur) would write more about how SHITTY life as a mommy is (I am sure it is, at least sometimes), and less about yoga pants.

    At least I know that if you EVER (my god!) breed, your blog will be fuckin’ awesome. Ha.

  5. Commenter! Yay! I love comments so much. This was a shitty day until I read your comment.

    My brain is a gutter. You should see what I’m currently drawing.

    Dogs are a good choice. A sensible choice. My fingers are crossed for your hormones. I like that your husband is included in this decision, even if his opinion is token. Because frankly, if you wanted to breed there really wouldn’t be anything he could do about it. No uterus, no opinion.

    I know what you mean about Mommy blogs. They are fascinating. Like some other universe. Ask and ye shall recieve: A mommy blog with a twist.

    http://blog.penelopetrunk.com/2011/10/05/resume-advice-you-never-hear/

    Don’t let the title fool you. This is the first paragraph of the post.

    “When I had my second son, I had a nervous breakdown. I’m not sure exactly what the cause was. But things were bad. I had a three-year-old with autism, a baby with a facial deformity that required a team of ten different types of doctors, and no family helping me, and I didn’t take maternity leave.”

  6. Also I will never breed, unless Immaculate conception occurs.

    I really don’t know how heterosexual women manage it. The whole ‘possible pregnancy’ AT ANY TIME seems so stressful.

  7. You know whats worse? When people comment and goad and dont stop telling non-breeders like me, what we’re missing out on and how we must keep the circle of life going. I keep thinking of the 21 years of being tied to a human being, dependent on me, lets not forget 9 months of watchign your body get shapeless and do funny things you cant control, and then hours of excrutiating labour, to watch a small human being pop out of your downstairs area..(im sorry, but I’d rather use my downstairs area for more fun things)..and then 21 years of being responsible. And dont even get me started on the way the world is headed. Its a nightmare the kind of things kids do these days, theres no way Im bringing more into this nasty world..

    So when my in laws ask me when I’m brining them good news, the husband and I vehemently tell them about our plans to adopt puppies.

  8. People actually never says that to me, (My parents are inured to this by now) or if they did I’d probably only too happily get into it with them.

    No one wants that, haha.

    Someone at work once said to me, regarding the downstairs area and babies,

    “But what else can you do with a vagina?”

    https://tinroofpress.wordpress.com/2010/08/29/what-can-you-do-with-a-vagina/

    I mocked her later of course. The entire office did.

    I imagine the in-laws must be harder to stave off though.

  9. They’re actually very nice aside from this constant need to tell people when/how/why they should procreate. But then again thats a pan-Indian syndrome. Everybody loves to making babies, and promote it like its going out of style. Like if you’re a woman and haven’t popped a few you’re worthless, your life on earth is a complete waste. But three years of constant ignoring has lessened their intrusiveness, so I shouldnt complain, really. But the post was just so bang on that I couldnt resist adding my 2bit!

  10. lol Maybe it’s because I’m such a girl, or you’re such a guy, but I do feel an implausible blush of identification with a lot of the things you write! . . .

    Intellectually I’m still on the fence as to whether, in the long run (to paraphrase Keynes) we’re all Malthusians. I’ve seen the argument that Earth can sustain 40 billion people comfortably enough; but then what happens when 40 billion people have two kids?

    On the other hand: the spectacle of societies with negative reproduction rates seems pretty grim and sociologically terrifying. A stranded mass of grey people, a smattering of youthful wage slaves bearing their burdens.

    But for me personally: I think parenthood would be a moral disater for my hypothetical kids, and me. Probably it’s best to self-exile myself to outright celibacy. Breed novels instead.

    All the same: I confess to almost a sort of bare-backing thrill in the fantasy of sex heedless of reproductive consequences. Oh dear, might I turn into a happy parent someday after all? Pray for me, Spinoza!

  11. I shall pray.

    I’m praying already even though I’m an atheist.

    We are at 7 billion now after all (!), side by side with articles about people starving, thus eating leaves & hay.

    Why moral disaster though, I’m curious?

    Thats what one of my gay friends said about not having kids (because kids with gay parents would have it worse than kids of straight parents – whatever. I’m not even going to bother stating my views on that nonsense), but I think it was an excuse to avoid the argument. He just doesn’t really want kids.

  12. Oh, I’m far too hung-up with my hang-ups to be any kind of dad. I’d feel the overarching need to not be distant and Olympian, but at the same time I’d fine excuses to put off their needs. I think a parent should have a least a sliver of ‘3 o’clock in the morning courage’, & I know myself well enough to suppose that’ll never be mustered.

    Of course I have a myriad of “Daddy Issues” of my own, and don’t want to be the Frankenstein doctor to my own little monster. I couldn’t blame the monster for thinking me a monster, but: who wants to be displaced? Oedipal conflict is so much more Romantic when you’re on the young side of the equation!

    Besides all the humor of your scorning for the flipped-out bellybuttons and such, I admit it coaxed a lol from me, to read a woman espouse such a quintessentially ‘gay’ [as opposed to ‘lesbian’] diatribe against “breeders”!

  13. I very much enjoy the range of your daddy issues. It’s a nice little arc you have there. Olympus to Frankenstein.

    I didn’t even know the gays were..uhm…anti-breeding.

    It seems to be all the rage these days, to get some surrogate + doula and then gush about it.

    I must be hanging with the wrong gays.

    When the boy gays have babies, I feel less rage. Mostly because it’s so difficult (obviously, lacking womb) and has to be seriously considered.

    When the girl gays do it, i think they’ve sold out somehow. I can’t even watch The kids are all right.

    Sigh. All movies and sequels end in pregnancy. So irate.

  14. Well, if you read Sylvia Plath’s “Daddy” enough times, you’ll start to think– gosh, I’d hate to wind up on the wrong team on this one!

    –I’m probably exaggerating for effect, I’m afraid. But at the very least, I’d have to mate with a very stout-hearted woman who has strong-limbed siblings near at hand in case of emergencies. I’m about as useful as Anchises fleeing Troy. Oh, and I should make a crapheap of money first, too! Anything less would just be unconscionable.

    But on the whole, philosophers should keep merrily childless.

  15. Haven’t read it, I’m terribly educated that way. Just the Bell Jar, can’t remember if Daddy turned up there.

    No, don’t mate. It’ll ruin your life. And that stout woman will eat you.

  16. well…now. I couldn’t say. That might be your thing. Who knows.

    Mostly I suspect you’d just be doing chores and getting nagged about chores you haven’t done for about the next 18 years post-placenta.

    Stout women are like that I imagine. (I’m intentionally leaving out the ‘-hearted’ part. She’ll probably just be stout in the old sense of the word.)

  17. I liked this post. Even though I have a kid. It’s honest. You’re concerned about what a kid does to your life and the world and you should be because having a baby is often, quite frankly, bullshit. Doesn’t make me pee rainbows, that’s for sure. When I’m swabbing poop off his mini balls at four in the morning, or creamed carrot off of my awesome pants (no… dude, not my awesome paaaaantssssss.) I’m not thinking: This makes me feel like a womannnnn. I’m thinking:

    This. Is. Fucking. BULLSHIT.

    I do it because I figure… I like chili Fritos and eating sushi and having sex and sitting in the bathtub and checking out hot sunsets and maybe some other person would like to enjoy those things sometime down the line. i.e., my kid. For a long time, I didn’t want to have a kid, but then I started thinking… damn.. what if MY parents had never had me? All that sushi/fritos/sexxxxxxx/bathubs/sunsets… I would have never experienced it. SAD!!!!

    It’s hard sometimes. I think…. jeez, I hope he doesn’t turn out to be an asshole. I mean, there’s a hole (hah) bunch of assholes out there and they all came from somewhere. Then I think… maybe… I can raise one person who manages to take away even a little bit from the shitheap that is the world sometimes. That would be nice. Already, the little guy tries. He flirts with people on the subway and even these crusty German policeoffs with Mausers up their bums can’t help but smile. Kid makes me smile too =)

    Pregnancy wasn’t so bad either. It was like being in a science experiment. Your naps become epic. [So do your tatas >:D, something for everyone.] I’m not going to lie to you. For me at least, birth was not magical, beautiful, mystical, empowering. It was painful, physically demeaning, and scary as hell. But there really is no other feeling than hearing your own little Nazgul scream for souls the very first time =)

    [PS: I told basically nobody I was pregnant. My friends who don’t live in my city found out I had a kid like… six months after the fact. They were all like… why didn’t you post anything?! and I was like… because everyone hates those freakin’ ‘Say hello to xxxxx xxxxxx Smith, 8589 pounds’ FB posts. So I just… didn’t say anything… One of my old friends was like… ..’I thought I hated reading those breeder posts… but not being told was… somehow… worse…’

    Heh, some food for thought and who knows? If you don’t change your mind, that’s cool. More time to draw 😀 If you do… you’ll have a lot of fun, trust me (Just get ready to get shit on your awesome pants… )

    • What a great comment and also thank you for not being offended. (Which is generally what happens on these posts. Hardly surprising.)

      I think I probably have too many issues to ever have a baby, much less raise it without resentment, but its always interesting hearing other peoples pregnancies views. (More drawing/procrastination time!)

      Can I ask – Did you plan to have a baby? Was it something you always wanted in the back of your mind? Or was it something that happened?

      • Heh, it would be silly of me to get offended on your blog… I mean, it’s like the internet equivalent of your living room 😉

        My dilemma wasn’t so much do I want or not want a kid, but can I raise a child and not have it end up being a resentful ball of nerves. Being a mom isn’t easy; being my kid is probably harder : / But– I do find the world beautiful and I think someone would rather have a shitty mom than miss out on all this beauty entirely.

        I hope.

        My kid was planned.

Deranged comments preferred

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s