Why I'd Be a Bad Parent

Yep, I'm doing yet another two-parter. Today's post is about the dark side of my grumpy, impatient self. And next week, we'll talk about the hypothetical scenario in which I actually live up to the high standards I have in my mind.

Or, in less sarcastic, self-depreciating terms, today's post is about why I might not be good at raising young humans, and next week's post is about why they might grow up without too much emotional scarring.

Lack of Patience

I've probably mentioned this about eight thousand times before, but sometimes I'm short-tempered and lack tolerance for things. And it seems that in the past few years, I've become even more grouchy. But when you're raising children (or puppies, or velociraptors), patience is required. I'd probably be insanely frustrated much of the time, which doesn't make for good decision-making skills. It'll make for a lot of yelling and hanging children upside down by their toenails, though.

Besides that, an infant requires round-the-clock care. As in, getting up every few hours to feed and change the baby. I don't know about you guys, but I do not function well on limited sleep. I'm also reluctant to get out of bed immediately after waking. I'll probably be a growling, snarling, grunting monster, shambling through the house and biting anyone who so much as breathes too loudly or looks at me wrong. "It's your turn to feed the kid. There's milk in the fridge you can heat up."

Associating Kids With Bad Behavior

Maybe my other problem is that I've seen too many poorly disciplined kids. Said children run wild, talk back, and make a big fuss whenever they don't get their way. As a result, I tend to view small children as annoying, noisy creatures who have little or no respect for anybody.

Yeah... that won't fly with me. Try to pull that "I can get away with murder because my bad behavior is considered cute" routine, and I will end you. (Pretend that statement wasn't hypocritical, and ignore the recently upturned earth beneath the porch.)

Logically, I know that how a kid is raised affects their behavior. But these days, I often look at a kid and automatically think, "Oh no, I'm probably going to deal with screaming and acting out."

Wasn't Good With Kids To Begin With

Some people just scoop up an infant or young child and cuddle them with glee. They adore this cute little thing, want to eat this kid up, take great joy in spending time with said child. Maybe it's because I didn't interact a lot with younger kids, but I feel awkward around them, like I don't know what to do or say. I feel I'm somewhat better with older children, but babies and younger kids...
I don't know where my affinity with kids is, or my maternal instinct. I think those attributes were assigned to somebody else instead. Somewhere out there, a person is walking around with extra kid-loving abilities. While others are cooing over a newborn human, I'm getting my dopamine release from the sight of a kitten. But come on, it's a cuddly little furball, and listen to its adorable little mews. I want to snuggle you and hug you and love you and keep you forever...

No, I take that back. I am good with little kids. Look at this sweet, fuzzy creature.

Wisdom? Responsibility? I Know Nothing.

Raising a kid means taking on a lot of responsibility. It's a full-time job, and one that I'm certainly not ready to undertake. And with infants and young children, especially, you only have to take your eyes off them for five seconds. In that time, they will completely destroy the living room, eat half a jar of Vaseline and smear the other half in their hair, butter the cat, draw on the new couch in permanent marker, and stick a quarter up their nose.

And we won't even talk about how the below screenshot from a 'Sims' game pretty much describes how much I would fail. We just won't.

The Bog of Eternal Stench

Let's also consider the unpleasant realities of gross things. Such as changing diapers or cleaning up puke. I don't want to deal with my own bodily functions sometimes, let alone somebody else's. And when kids are young, wiping noses and rears is part of the job description.

'For Better or For Worse' comic strip by Lynn Johnston. 

Speaking of which, how did people survive in olden times, when everyone dumped their chamber pots out their windows? I guess their noses just shriveled up and died from the stench. Considering there was also a period when most people avoided bathing...

So that concludes my rambling monologue about the dangers of being raised by me. But keep watch for next week's blog post, in which I discuss my redeemable qualities.