I recently shocked my children in an attempt to prove my love for them. I told them I love them so much that I gave up coffee for ten whole months for each of them. It took a few moments for them to retrieve their jaws from the floor after that doozy.
I used that time to reattach the caffeine drip I have feeding directly into my blood stream now.
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I’m no stranger to giving things up for my children. My waistline. My money. My sanity.
The list of sacrifices I have made for those beautiful little parasites is almost endless. Almost. While my love for them is endless, my list of things I will cast aside because of their existence is not.
Here are five things I refuse to give up now that I have children
I Refuse To Give Up Swearing
Curse words, swear words, cuss words, grown-up words, best fucking words on the planet, whatever you want to call them, are not going anywhere in my house. I swore before I had kids, and you bet your ass I still swear now that I have them.
The knowledge of a well-placed and expertly-executed F-bomb is one of the greatest lessons I will pass down to my children. Sure, they aren’t allowed to swear now, but they will at some point.
Isn’t it my duty to model the joy, power, and delicate skill that comes with that shit?
I Refuse To Give Up Staying Up Late
My youngest child gets up at the ass crack of dawn. That’s what the clock says when he jumps on my face in the morning.
Me: “Alexa, what time is it?”
Alexa: “It’s STFU O’clock, I’m trying to sleep.”
My oldest was an Olympic-level shitty sleeper as a baby. I consulted the book “The No Cry Sleep Solution”, and it literally told me to let him cry it out (this is a true story.)
I did a sleep log at one point, and it turns out he woke thirteen to twenty-three times a night. But he did usually get a three hour stretch from about nine o’clock to midnight.
Did I sleep during this time? Of course not. Do I go to bed early now, knowing there will be a five-year-old on my face at any moment? Nope. I’m writing this a 2:41 am. Night time is my time, always has been, and I will deprive myself of sleep before I deprive myself of late nights.
I Refuse To Give Up Stuff That Is Mine
No, you can’t have my cookie, it’s mine. Deal with it. Do I share? Yes.
Do I teach them to share? Yes.
Do I have some stuff that is mine and that I refuse to give up just because they want it? Hell yes. I shared my body with you for ten months. I fed each of you with my body for two years after that. I’m keeping my damn cookie.
I Refuse To Give Up Grown-Up Music in the Car
I can’t do Wiggles. It’s not happening. We are listening to the radio, or, more likely, the greatest hits of the 90s. If I had to grow up listening to old school 70s country music, you can deal with a little Oasis.
I Refuse To Give Up My Identity
I love being a mom, and being a mom is a huge part of who I am. But it’s not all I am.
There is so much more to me than who has been in my body. I talk about my kids a lot (I’m writing this article, aren’t I?) but I also talk about current events, my interests, my outrages, and all of the other things that make me, well, me.
Being a parent is an incredible privilege, and the most important role I play – but I am more than that, I refuse to cast that aside.
So, children, I would give my life for you if it came to it. But I’m keeping the things on this list.