The Truth

My birthday was on Wednesday. I’m officially 26. I suppose it’s typical to say that I don’t feel old, and it’s true, I don’t. I just seem old to everyone around me. I was at the clinic last week because I’m switching to ortho evra. I’ve been on the pill for year and years and with my newly hectic schedule, It’s just getting too hard to remember to take it every day. Anyway, while I was at the clinic my friend Taylor made some crack about me getting older and how I should be having kids before I’m thirty.

My confession is that I’m not sure I want to be a parent. I’m not sure I want to have any kids ever. I spent a good portion of my life when I was living at home with my parents taking care of babies. I’ve done the diapers. I’ve wiped more asses then I care to mention. And Tim and I live this awesome life where we work hard during the week, we entertain on the weekends… we have lots of nice things that are breakable and our life in general has too many sharp edges for babies. Maybe in five years I’ll feel different, but right now, I just want to be a D.I.N.K. as long as possible. (Dual Income, No kids) Is that wrong? ( My other confession… I don’t really want a dog either. I think puppies are cute…but ugh, all that poop you gotta clean up in the yard…)

Maybe I’m just hugely selfish, but I would prefer to spend all my love and affection on my husband. At least I’m sure he will always appreciate it. Kids always start out cute, but inevitably end up hating you. I can’t deal with that right now. Plus, if we have a baby, then that means we will have less money for sushi. And, well, you all know how I feel about sushi.