I have a kid.

I kind of always believed I'd make it through life without having a kid. This all changed when my sister in law who already had two kids was pregnant with twins last year. This news sent my husband into a jealous fit and although only 34 at the time he was terrified that he'd be 40 "next year" and just starting a family. Turns out that one of the twins kind of went away, but the other one is fine and is 11 months old now. She's pregnant again, by the way.

Now that I am a mother, I don't see what the big deal is. I don't feel like it's totally changed my life - except that I don't get as much sleep as I used to and I don't get to enjoy my hobbies either. Because I'm a responsible, educated adult, I take care of my baby, but I can't say that I'm enjoying it. I could hire a full time nanny if I wanted, but it is my kid afterall, and I want it to like me, not the nanny. The daily tasks of taking care of the baby overwhelm the supposed joy of having one. I just don't see the point of having kids. So, yeah, she'll grow up, get a life and go on her way. All the while, I get to sacrifice and worry and struggle. My mom keeps telling me that if only I knew what it was like for her and my dad when they had me. They could barely afford diapers and used to dumpster dive instead of collecting welfare. The big difference is that it was their dream to have a family. Despite all their financial shortcomings at the time, they made it work and were happy doing it.

I'm not complaining about anything. I'm just saying... It's like eating your brussel sprouts. You just do it because it's supposedly good for you. Well, an analogy escapes me right now. I guess I love her. I think I have to. Yes, I can imagine life without her, but I'm not planning on sending her to an orphanage or anything. I guess I'm stuck with her. And she's stuck with me. We'll have to make the best of it.