Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids

Reason #182: It fucks our partners too
June 30, 2010, 2:18 pm
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Last week, the huz and I were were at our marital therapy session, and the big topic of discussion was the fact that I want another baby, and I feel like he doesn’t. So we’re sitting there, hashing it out, when finally he began to talk about how he has so much responsibility since I am so afraid all the time, and everything falls on him. This is completely true. As most of my posts show, I am afraid of many many things, and this leaves all kinds of slack that the huz is either forced to pick up or let go. I don’t like the noise of the dishwasher, I can’t shower when he’s not here, laundry machine makes noise, etc. All these things can only be done when he is home, or not at all. Sometimes I do these things when he is home, sometimes he does these things, but the fact that they are timed for only the times when he is home makes the whole thing a lot more difficult.

Then there are the other ways he gets fucked. I am afraid to take the baby for a walk by myself, afraid to take the baby to the mall by myself, etc. The theme here is ‘by myself’, and since my fear stops me from doing these things, they of course fall to him or us together. The man never gets any peace, except for when I watch the baby here at home and he goes outside by himself.

The thing is, I didn’t know he felt so fucked up by all this that it was inhibiting us from having another baby.  Now, a 2nd baby might not be in the cards for us right now for many other reasons, starting with the fact that we’re not fucking each other.  Unless a star appears in the East again, we need to start fucking each other to have a baby.  Lately it seems like he’s ready for sex, and I of course am not.  Every time I think about trying to have sex, I get all fucked up and scared.  Not at all unusual for me, as this reason has come up several times in this blog.

So, to sum up, everything falls on him, and we’re not fucking each other. That’s why you shouldn’t fuck kids.  You not only fuck us, you fuck our partners too.

Reason #132: Self-soothing bullshit

All the ‘experts’ say that babies need to learn to ‘self-soothe’ themselves to sleep. We’ve had sleep problems with my son, and everyone in the world says to let him cry it out, because “eventually he’ll learn”. Yes, it’s true that eventually he will learn that when he cries, mama won’t come running. But let’s break that down a bit. If he was an older child, and he was crying at night because he’s afraid of going to sleep by himself, it wouldn’t be right to leave him alone to figure it out. If he was an adult, and he was crying, shouldn’t we all take notice?

But somehow because he’s a baby (now a toddler), the world feels that I should let him cry. Well, I think that is disgusting. And I cannot help but think of all the nights I cried because I was afraid to go to sleep by myself too.

Yesterday, I read this article by Roland Summit called “The Child Sexual Abuse Accommodation Syndrome”, and one of the lines in there really struck me. It said something like “Bed covers take on magical properties against intruders”. That is just so fucking true. I have always used my bed covers as though they could protect me from the kind of shit that had happened to me.

I never did learn to self-soothe. This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

Reason #110: We Lose Our Sense of a Greater Good

Today, my son’s occupational therapist came in wearing a shirt that said “We are in G-d’s favor” (except G-d was spelled with the “o” in the middle). That shirt gave me pause for thought. First of all, wearing a shirt like that means that one feels totally safe in the world. I mean, I can’t imagine wearing such a sentiment on my body because it’s inviting G-d to say ‘No you’re not. You’re not in my favor, actually.”

I have so many of the things I really really wanted out of life – a baby, a husband, a home. I thought ‘Maybe I am in G-d’s favor.’ But then I thought about what happened to me before I met my husband, before I became an adult. Was I not in G-d’s favor when I was less than five years old and that babysitter decided to fuck my brother and I? Was my brother not in G-d’s favor?

I had always had a good relationship with G-d until I started coming to terms with the abuse. I can’t help but wonder where G-d was during all that.

But then I think about all the good things that I have gotten – my husband, my baby, my home – I mean, none of this would have been possible without G-d, right? My husband doesn’t believe in G-d because it can’t be scientifically proven. I am not sure I need proof. No one believes me when I say my dad was a weird pervert, and there’s no real proof of that except my words. The huz is willing to take my word for it on my Dad, but not on G-d.

I think belief in G-d swings on a pendulum for most people. We believe sometimes, we don’t other times. But for survivors, it’s a whole different flock of geese. We know for sure that evil exists and can hurt us, and we can’t help but wonder where G-d is during our pain.

Now my belief in G-d borders on fear because I now believe that G-d will not stop bad things from happening, though I believe that G-d will hold my hand through it. I think. And that’s the fucked up part. Whereas the thought of G-d was always a comforting thought, it’s now mired in fear. And I think that’s fucked up, because if anyone should be fearful of G-d, it’s people who fuck kids. I mean, shit, if anyone’s going to hell, it’s people who fuck kids. They rationalize it, but deep down they know they’re doing wrong.

I am afraid of G-d. This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

Reason #104: Everyone’s a Predator

The huz and I ran some errands yesterday with our son. Our son is almost two years old. At one of the stores we were at, some guy took a real interest in our son. He got real close to him, and asked us his name, if he’s talking, what kinds of things he likes, etc. I wedged myself between him and my son because I immediately disliked him and his questions.

Later, when we were driving to another errand, I asked my husband what he thought of that freak in the store who talked to our son. My husband could tell what I thought of him from the way I had asked him the question, and he said “He’s probably harmless”. I said “Why? Because you want him to be?” He said “No, because I know the statistics. Most people are not out to harm our son.”

That statement gave me pause for thought. In my mind, most people are out to harm my son. The world is one big predator waiting for me to drop my guard so they can hurt him in some way. It is one of the many reasons I am constantly on guard when I am alone with my son. My husband, however, was raised in an idyllic place with a lovely childhood where he was safe all the time, and no one hurt him. His parents never even hit him because they don’t justify the use of violence with children. I imagine that if I grew up in such a safe world where no one ever fucked me, I might also have the luxury of thinking that the freak in the store was interested in my child because of some innocent reason. Instead, I grew up in an unsafe home and am consequently all too aware of the pedophilic tendencies of people in the general society.

My husband grew up in a safe home, and I did not. My husband’s body was always his own, and no one ever used it against his will, or took advantage of him in disgusting unscrupulous ways. My body was not my own with a babysitter, a brother, and a father.

My husband thinks no one is a predator, and I know that everyone is. This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

Reason #86: The Weather Outside is Frightful
May 11, 2009, 12:24 pm
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Summer is coming. The spring months are here, and that brings with it beautiful sunny days. I would really love to take my sweet beautiful son outside to play. I don’t really go outside a lot. I want to, but I generally talk myself out of it within a few seconds.

When I am home with my son, who is less than 2 years old, I think to myself “I should take him outside to play.” I think about how we could go out there and he would inspect the grass, and I would watch him. But what if someone is able to sneak into my house while my back is turned? Or if someone steals me or my kid, or rapes me or my kid? No, no, safer to stay inside.

See how quick that worked? When the huz is home, we go outside with the baby together, and truly, it’s some of my happiest times. When I am alone with the baby though, my fear gets the best of me. When people try to talk sense into me, like by saying that my fear is irrational or not based in reality, they are a little bit right. I mean, statistically speaking, there’s more of a chance of nothing happening than something happening. But what the fuck do statistics mean when three separate people fucked with me when I was a child? What do statistics mean when you’ve been on intimate terms with evil?

Not being able to take my son outside to play on beautiful days. That would be reason #86 why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

Reason #78: That fucking “g” word again
April 18, 2009, 9:34 pm
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So I think we can all agree that my husband puts up with a lot of shit, right? I mean, just in the last post alone was some shit about how I refuse to say what I call “the g word” (goodbye), and how he basically felt hung up on for the first few months of our relationship. Well here’s part two of that shit.

The baby’s pediatrician asked us if the baby was waving goodbye yet, and we both said no. The pediatrician looked a little worried, which worried me. (I’m Jewish.) Anyway, I was talking about it with my mom, and my mom said “Sweetie, you never say that word, so where would the baby learn it from?” That put my worries to rest about the baby not waving bye bye yet.

Well, it appears that the baby has learned it anyway. Other people besides myself and the huz watch this baby at times, and apparently, they have taught him to be normal and use that word when he is leaving. Lately, when the huz says “Say see you later mama” while waving his hand, the baby goes “Baaa baaa”. I give the huz a big panicked look, and the huz starts laughing uncontrollably. Now, I can’t get mad at the huz because he puts up with a lot of shit from me (starting with this whole “see you later” shit).

My baby is saying that word to me, and I can’t handle it. It scares me. I am afraid of a word. I suppose there is a world where that word is a perfectly good and usable word (no it’s not, it’s a fucked up scary ass horrible word).

I am afraid of a word. Afraid of saying it and hearing it. This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

Reason #58: Getting up before you are ready
March 19, 2009, 10:10 am
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Last night, the huz and I were so tired. You know that kind of tired, when you are soooo looking forward to bed because you just can’t wait to sleep. The kind of tired where sleep sounds more inviting than sex (which for us is every night, but that’s another post).

This morning I woke up at 5AM because I had to pee. The huz gets up every day at 5AM to work out. I go pee, he goes to work out, and I am left with a decision about going back into the dark room. The baby sleeps in our room with us (that’s another post too) so we try to keep it dark in there. We notice that he sleeps longer/better if it is dark, like most humans do. I try to go back in the room, but I am immediately panicked about the darkness.

I turn on a light. A small light. The baby stirs. I shut the light off. I start breathing funny. Those of you with kids know good and well that you NEVER wake them. Their sleep is like the holy grail of time – it is sacred.

So now I am standing in the dark room unsure what to do. I lay in bed, all kinds of horrible scenarios running through my panicked mind. I tell myself “I am safe, the husband is downstairs, no one could have gotten into the bedroom in the three seconds that it took for him to walk downstairs and I came out of the bathroom. It’s okay.” But I don’t believe myself, and I continue to be afraid.

I turn the tv on, but mute it. The flickering light might wake the baby. I am taking a chance here and I know it. I let the light bathe me in relief from my fear for a second before I turn it off to face my fear again. I try to fight it. I keep my happy thoughts nearby. My fearful ones keep returning and I keep battling them in a bid for sleep.

I lose the fight, get up, and go on the computer. And here I am. I would rather be sleeping than typing in some shit about why you shouldn’t fuck kids, and this is precisely why you shouldn’t fuck kids. I have been sleeping/waking like this for 30 years.

That babysitter fucked me 30 years ago when I was five years old. I wonder how her sleep is.

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