Last weekend I went as the faux-lesbian date of a friend to a wedding. I do the faux-lesbian wedding thing more often than you think. I’m a riot at a party and for some reason women are under the mistaken opinion that attending a formal social function put on by people that are not strangers by yourself is the hight of shame. Wev. I’m just there for the free booze.

So the wedding last Saturday was the big production deal that most people associate with a bridezilla personality. Except- it wasn’t at all what the bride wanted. The bride, a very low key, funny girl, wanted to elope to Hawaii. It was the groom that wanted the production. The bride didn’t get the wedding she wanted, but she loves the guy. She didn’t get the dress she wanted, but she loves the guy. She didn’t get much of anything that she wanted, but you get the idea.

As soon as the big production vows were over, the in laws started asking about kids. The bride joked about how maybe she wouldn’t be working for long- she’d just spit out a few kids and stay at home. Funny thing is, she doesn’t want kids. At all. She wants horses instead.

I also spent alot of quality time with the bride’s new sister-in-laws. All of them have several children and a strained quality to them. One of them, whose oldest daughter is the same age as the Kid, and I were having a good talk about parenting. It was one of those moments where the cracks in the shiny mommy veneer show and you can say that sometimes you don’t like being a mom very much or that sometimes you’re not as good to your kids as you should be. I prefer those talks to the “greatest thing I’ve done with my life” talks because we all know that is what we’re programmed to say.

Whenever I have these conversations with married moms (or even a lot of child-free people) it goes the same way.

Other Person: Wow, you have a 12 year old! You must have been really young.
Me: I had him a week before my 20th birthday.
OP: Is his dad involved?
Me: No, we were engaged until I found out I was pregnant. I decided I wanted the baby but not the marriage.
OP: That must be so tough to do it on your own.
Me: Not really, I prefer being the only one in charge. I don’t share authority well. (Let me clarify this remark- parenting is hard, but it is easier for me to do it on my own than to play nurse-mommy-maid-whore to a grown up boy while being mommy to a child).

So my conversation with the sister in law went almost word for word the same way, except when I mentioned not marrying Kid’s dad. She was awed for a second, and said “That’s amazing that you knew at that age not to get married”. Now, I must admit that I knew she’s been having marriage problems before I met her (people tell me shit) so it was a little telling in the kinds of questions she asked me that she’s been considering divorce. I was honest. And we were both pretty open about how hard having kids is to begin with. (Pre-teens and teens are rough phases for kids that will try the best parent’s patience- dirty secret is that though we love our children more than you can imagine, we don’t really like them much for awhile).

So imagine my surprise when 2 minutes later the bride asks if having kids is hard and the same woman says “You don’t even notice it”.

You.Don’t.Even. Notice. It. WTF!

My head was about to explode. Why do we feel the need to lie to people about the joys of parenthood? Trust me, you notice it.

When you haven’t slept in six months and your nipples are constantly sore- you notice it.

When yet another diaper has exploded with toxic poop all over your last clean shirt- you notice it.

When you’ve nearly lost your mind because you pre-schooler WILL NOT PUT ON HIS SHOES and you’re late for work (again)- you notice it.

When you’re sitting in another parent- teacher conference in a tiny chair with the full knowledge that an imbecile is teaching your child nothing and you will have to make up the difference for 6 hours every night – you notice it.

When you’ve repeated the phrase “Do your homework” so many times that you can’t remember if you can say anything else- you notice it.

Parenting is hard work. It’s drudgery most days. And you notice every minute of it. You shouldn’t be a parent unless you absolutely want to. And we shouldn’t keep lying to women about how joyful it is. It has it’s moments, but