Oh and another one.
That there are forty-seven different shades of pink and the all clash with each other!
The fear I think was a big one for me. It took some very scary things happening in the teen years for me to calm down about it.
I wasn’t prepared for my stepchildrens’ mother to die unexpectedly of a heart attack when they were young teenagers.
I wasn’t prepared for my younger son to get carjacked seven years ago. That was probably the scariest thing that’s ever happened to him.
Yet.
The loss of freedom. I knew on one level it was going to happen, but I had no idea how hard it would be. For instance, I love going to the movies. I used to go at least once a week, if not more. These days I’m lucky if I get to go once every couple of months. Leisurely browsing through a bookstore? Yeah, right. Grocery shopping is a major event these days.
Sure, I could do all these things when I have a babysitter, and I do, sometimes. But usually when I get a break from the kids all I really want to do is take a nap.
They’re totally worth it, though. And you get your freedom back bit by bit as they get older, I’m finding.
In addition to the other stuff already discussed, I wasn’t prepared for the cost. The sprog is growing pretty quickly, so there are clothes and shoes, and the zillions of checks to be written to the school at various points in the school year.
The Dudeling is only one and a half, so can’t say what’s in store down the line. We think he is storing up all his evil for the teen years, because so far it’s been a breeze. Nothing to do with us, just that he has yet to be any kind of trouble (sleeping through the night at 3 months, eating everything we give him, etc.). Not that we expect a second child to be as easy, but we seem to have dodged several bullets so far. Until the teens. Help us.
For surprise, I’d say that holy shit can that little person put out some volume. For the first few months, it was all cute, quiet, little baby-wails. Now that he discovered his voice, he sometimes SCRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEECCCCCCCHHHEEESSSSS at the top of his lungs. Wow, can that be loud.
The other big surprise is how many pregnant women there were during my wife’s pregnancy (they’re all but disappeared now) and how many kids there are out there. Children are everywhere! We just never noticed them before, but they’re at restaurants, museums, stores … everywhere we look there are children. Weird.
If you can do this, we need you either on the Supreme Court or rewriting a few laws. I can’t help but imagine that if you can explain it to a seven-year-old, you should be able to explain it to a lawyer.
My best friend told me I’m the only non-parent she’s ever met who seemed to really understand this without having to actually have children.
To me, it’s self-evident. And terrifying. Hence my childlessness.
I was unprepared for the sheer lack of personal space I experienced. I couldn’t even eat a meal without a baby attached to me, which for some reason was incredibly frustrating to me. My husband would make me these delicious-looking two-handed meals (about the only time he’s ever cooked) and would put a dish on a side table next to me while I nursed and he ate. I would stare at it longingly, my stomach grumbling until he’d finally realize what he’d done and offer to feed me. But I freakin’ wanted to feed myself! Grrr.
Other than that, I was unprepared for:
- 32 hours of labor, 28 of them unmedicated (stupid, stupid me)
- eclampsia followed by
- a two-week long migraine
- how much easier the second one seemed compared to the first
Oh yeah, I know all about the lack of space. I can’t remember the last time I had a bowel movement without someone else in the room. And locking the door is not an option or I come out to a nuclear meltdown on the other side. FUN.
The fear. Before my son was born I was only afraid of ghosts and aliens. When he was just a couple months old and he didn’t wake up “on schedule” I got really nervous.
And we weren’t prepared for the birth. 
Robin was 6 weeks early and we hadn’t choosen a name, yet.
This is very, very true. I cannot imagine life without them.
Our last is off to college next fall. We’re going to be empty nesters. THAT is going to take some serious getting used to.
I get you. I’m torn between gleefully planning her trip to college (with the conversion of her room to a proper office) and dreading her leaving home - she’s only twelve.
What others have said - that it’s 24/7, no weekends off, no holidays. The work isn’t that hard, but it goes on all the time.
And that you have to get up at the same time on weekends as during the week. “It’s 6:00, daddy. I don’t know anything about Saturdays. I’m hungry.” And from their point of view, it’s perfectly reasonable.
So you get up and get them changed and dressed and fed and cleaned up. And then you can’t go back to bed - they want to be out and doing.
The other thing I didn’t expect? That I would miss it when it stopped.
Regards,
Shodan
We’ve got three beautiful, smart, healthy children, and we have a fourth on the way.
This is probably just me, but I was unprepared for this recurring feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ever since we’ve had kids, I occasionally get these feelings of dread that it all can’t last - that we’ve been a little too lucky. It freaks me out even to type those words, that’s how bad the feeling is sometimes.
On the other hand, I was utterly unprepared for this reserve of strengh that I can find sometimes, when my kids need me. I tend not to handle messy medical emergencies well - when my wife-to-be cut her fingertip off while we were dating years ago, I about passed out, while she took it in stride. Over the years, my kids have had a couple bloody ER visits, but when I needed to hold my shit together, I’ve been rock solid.
Well, my profile says brutally honest, so I will follow through on that now. I have two kids. They will be 15 and 11 soon. I would say that most parents (of more than one) claim to love their children “exactly the same” with the same intensity. I guess that’s what I was unprepared for. I don’t. I love them as much as one can love a child of their own…but I often have a favorite kid of the day, or week, or even month. I don’t announce it to them of course, these are just my thoughts. I have a stronger connection with my son, the oldest. They both have some crazy endearing qualities, they are very different…and they warm my heart all the time. But, I ask myself sometimes if liking my son more often than my daughter, may also mean that I love him more. I’m not sure…honesty, as you can see…is not always a pretty picture.
I’m amazed at how well it’s gone.
I have 4 kids, ages 13, 11, 9, and 7. They are all good kids (even the teen). Then generally do well in school, behave themselves (more or less), are healthy and happy.
None of them have had serious problems with social issues, academic issues, or physics issues.
I know there are many years to go, and many problems yet to come… but so far so good.
Amazing!
I know my parents were unprepared for the Firehoses of Doom.
For some reason, them baby boys love using that one in the following sequence:
Mom dresses baby.
Mom dresses herself.
Mom hefts baby to place baby in trolley.
Mom realizes baby needs changing.
Mom says something, realizes eldest daughter is there, says “you didn’t hear that”, places towel on bed, places baby and fresh diaper on towel and starts process of changing baby.
Mom needs changing.
That you never really do stop thinking of them as your babies. Heck, I even saw that this weekend. We were visiting my mom’s cabin out in the snowy mountains, I slid off the road and punctured my oil filter. I called AAA to get a tow into town (and planning on getting a motel room since it was Sunday) and my mom happened to drive by. She insisted on following us to town, paying for the motel room and staying with us until the van was fixed. I told her we had the situation in hand (the kids were not stressed about it at all) but she insisted. I’m 34, the kids are teenagers. I called the kids’ mom to say we’d be home a day late and she wanted to drive the 6 hours to pick them up :eyeroll: so she thinks of them as her babies even more than I do.
How easy it has been. I never had to fight with my son to give up a bottle or use the toilet. He slept through the night young and I never had to kick him out of my bed (because he was never there in the first place). I’ve always, always been able to take him into any store without fussing or tantrums or having to deal with “I wants”; actually, he’s never embarrassed me in public.
He’s only 8 (well, almost) so we’ll see but it’s been a snap so far.
The baby is just over 5 months. I’m usually up before he is so I can visit with the older one while he gets ready for school.
This very thing has been a huge factor in my reluctance to have a second child. When I had my son I thought, “There’s just no way I could possibly love anyone more than I love this little guy.”
Although the little guy is now 16 so I guess it would make sense to relate to a 16 yr old differently than an infant, but I still can’t shake the fear that I might not love the next one as much. 