Just because I have children…

does not mean I want anymore.

I have two of the turds and have learnt the consequences of my actions. In fact, I have never been so cautious about contraception since having mine. I do not want anymore.

When I say this out loud, people look at me like I’ve just shot a puppy. It does not mean I don’t like the ones I have. It means I love the ones I do have so much, my heart/mind/body literally has nothing left to give.

To some, kids are like Pringles, once you pop, you can’t stop. But you know what, kids to me are like eating the Prawn Cocktail Pringles; half way down the tube, you start to feel a little sick and think “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, let’s stop here before I make myself feel worse.”

When 6 o’clock rolls around every evening, I am a grouchy zombie. I’m worse than the kids. I want everybody to leave me the hell alone. I’ve done a 12 hour shift in mom life, pumped out 10,000 steps getting endless tissues/wipes/washing/food and tiredness just consumes me. But alas, that is when the next batch of work rolls in with the whole bedtime nonsense. I couldn’t possibly have anymore children. I admire those who do. But it’s not for me.

I want a career. Money. Holidays. A huge kitchen diner with bi-fold doors. Unfortunately, these things do not come easily with kids. Every time you have a baby, you put your life on hold for another few years.

I want to give them the best. And having more kids, for me at least, limits that. It limits our finances, my energy levels and our time.

So no, I’m not having anymore. And that is damn well OK.