December Babies Suck: A Call For National Abstinence Month

by Scary Mommy
Originally Published: 

A tad of TMI here, but only one of my children was actually planned. We are blessed with being extremely fertile and in retrospect, it’s a miracle that I didn’t end up barefoot and pregnant my freshman year of college. It seems like all I need to do is think about a baby and poof, nine months later, I have one in my arms.



We didn’t bother ourselves with little details such as proper birth control, birth-dates and child-spacing. Why would one in the throes of passion? But had I, I certainly would not have chosen the month of March to conceive my babies. In fact, from now on, I shall be instituting a National Abstinence Month during March and beg you to join me. Why? Do the math. March conception equals December baby and December babies just plain suck.

I’m sorry if you are a December baby, it’s nothing personal, but you suck. You know it. And you have my deepest sympathies.

Much as parents may try not to do the whole combined gift thing, it’s pretty inevitable. There are only so many new toys a kid can handle and it’s just too much to give an abundance of presents a few days or weeks apart. Plus, it’s so freaking expensive– who can afford all that crap? Kids end up spoiled enough with the holidays alone- adding a birthday to the mix is just too much. And, much as we try and make the day all special and exciting, it ends up part of the holiday season blur.

And it’s not only the parents of the child– it’s other people as well. It sucks to have to schlep children in the freezing cold to birthday parties. Everyone is snotty and exhausted and too burnt-out to feel much like celebrating. There are no decent options for party locations since it’s too cold to be outside and the mere thought of having a dozen stuffy kids rolling around on plastic blow up toys is hardly appealing.

December babies suck.

So this March, and every March to come, let’s remember what we’ve learned and save future generations birthdays filled with grief and disappointment and forgotten recognition.

Tonight? Just don’t do it.

For the children.

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