Kids are awesome. They know how to get their own way by looking cute, no one judges them when they have an exhaustion-induced public meltdown and they possess enviable comedic timing without even trying.
I’m definitely not immune to the old lurch of the ovaries when I see a particularly cute mini-human, but the reality is that I don’t want kids just yet because I’m not ready to stop being one. Basically, I am the adult equivalent of a teenager pleading for just “five more minutes” when they should be getting ready for school, or in my case, motherhood.
This would not be terribly shocking were it not for the fact I’m thirty-six years old. That’s right, even though I am already a year into the stage of life where gestation on my part is considered geriatric; I am still reveling in being young at heart. So much so that the concept of offspring is, well, off-putting.
You want me to be responsible for the survival of an infant? I can’t even keep a pair of sunglasses in one piece or in my possession for more than a few weeks. If you come to my apartment you will see exactly zero living things under my roof because I don’t want the pressure of even keeping a plant off life support.
Also, as much as I love kids, anyone who expects me to get out of bed before noon on a Sunday is a monster. A monster that apparently expects to live in my uterus without paying rent whilst stealing my food like the kind of crazy roommate you’d find on Craigslist.
Yep, when it comes to the business of babies, I don’t want to be the CEO because I’m still enjoying the perks of freelancing.
Before I go on, I should clarify that I think I would like to have a child at some point because I love the thought of a mini-me dropping side-eye and sarcasm as I feign horror whilst exclaiming: “I just don’t know where he/she gets it!”
Plus, when I was a kid my Mum (who, incidentally, didn’t have me until she was 38) always asked me to make her cups of tea and although I used to accuse her of only having had me so I could keep her caffeinated, I quite like the idea of also having my own personal barista.
I have no doubt that, if faced with the task, I could successfully raise a kid with only minimal therapy for everyone involved. However, just because you CAN do something, it doesn’t mean you should. I COULD eat $200 worth of pizza in one sitting, for example, but I probably shouldn’t. I mean, at least not again.
Now, according to the ads that keep popping up on my Facebook, I should be freezing my eggs just in case it’s too late by the time I feel ready to produce the spawn of Satan, I mean, have a baby. Of course, Facebook also constantly suggests that I friend people I’ve never seen in my life, so I’m not exactly rushing to take fertility advice from Mark Zuckerberg and co.
Mildly annoying Facebook ads aside, these days it is widely accepted to feel the way I do. There are many of us out there who want to delay or entirely skip “the next step” for reasons that range from financial concerns to finding the right person to simply not being ready to forfeit those extra hours of Sunday sleep.
What’s wonderful is that now we can make these once controversial statements and be met with solidarity instead of silence or shock. In fact, some women I know say they wish they had waited until later in life to have their children. Everyone’s preferences are different and I love that we live in a time when these differences can be celebrated instead of judged.
So, I’d like to raise a glass to all of the incredible mothers out there who have taken the plunge into procreation and are rearing the next generation of bad-asses. Many of you make it look easy and I’m in awe of you all.
I‘d also like to raise a glass to all of the women out there who, like me, are asking for just “five more minutes” – may you ladies enjoy your eggs poached, not fertilized, for as long as you damn well please.
Lyndsey Rodrigues is a TV Host, Writer & Producer in New York City. She loves tacos, travel and architecture and has a very healthy obsession with serial killers. When Lyndsey isn’t in front of the camera you can find her punching stuff in a boxing class or complaining to young people about her old lady sciatica.