Zombies!

I've read/watched enough end-of-the-world books/movies/shows to know that people with small children generally do not survive.


I blame the children.


I've got two tiny ones myself: the Juban Princeling, who is 3 1/2, and the Duke of Juban, who is four months. When - NOT IF! - the Zombiepocalypse happens, we are goners. 


And the Zombiepocalypse is going to happen. I know this because just a few blocks from my house is a cemetery next to a power plant. Do the math, people. I don't know what bureaucratic asshat allowed this zoning debacle, but I'm going to go on record this election year and say that I fully support any candidate with an anti-zombie platform. I know that's a harsh thing to say, but even we Liberals have to draw the line somewhere.


Lately I've been watching "The Walking Dead," and I have no doubt my kids and I will not survive when that power plant goes all melty and zaps those pissed off Confederate soldiers back to life. There's a reason why there are no babies or preschoolers running around with Rick & the Gang: they've all been eaten. Probably the parents, too. 

The South rises again.
(Photo from http://familyhalloweenhorror.tripod.com/id1.html)

Why People With Small Children Will Not Survive the Zombiepocalypse:


1. Children Are Slow, and They Slow You Down
Have you ever tried to go anywhere with a baby? Or a toddler? Or preschooler? Or multiple children at once? It's Sisyphean. Here's how a typical morning in our house goes on, say a random Sunday when we try to go out for breakfast:


Me: "Princeling, get your shoes on."
Princeling: "No! I don't want to go out!"
Me: "Don't you want pancakes?"
Princeling: "No! Pancakes are stupid! You're poop!"
Husband: "You can have bacon, too. And bring a toy."
Princeling: "No! I hate you! Go away!"
Duke: "Waaaaah!"
Me: "You work on getting the Princeling's shoes on while I give this one a bottle."
Princeling: "NOOOO!!!!!" *kicks off shoes*
Duke: *poops*


Forty-five minutes later we may be out the door. Or we may have given up, sent the Princeling to his room, and already be one finger into two tumblers of Scotch at 8:45 in the morning.


And it's not like we can pick the children up and run away from the zombies, either. At least, not run far, or fast, or for too long. The Princeling weighs around 35 pounds and the Duke is clocking in at a healthy 15 pounds. Even if my husband, who is strong, carried the Princeling on his back and I took the baby in the Ergo, how far could we realistically get while running for our lives? And what about supplies? 


As my friend Cali, whose two daughters are the same ages as my sons, explained the other day: "My step-father told me about this ridiculous compound he has in Tennessee and said if anything happens we should make our way there, and we'll be fine. But it takes me two hours just to get out the door to walk across Park Slope. How the hell am I supposed to make it all the way to Tennessee in an emergency?"


Me: "You know, those of us with small children are going to be the first to go in any kind of apocalyptic event. Like zombies."


Cali: "Well, we all have to go sometime. When you number's up, your number's up."




2. Children Cannot Sit Still. Or Be Quiet.
As anyone who has ever left their home, ever, can tell you: children are loud and they run around a lot. 


Even my kids, who are relatively well-behaved, have only so much quiet and stillness inside them. If we have to hide from zombies there is no way I can make the Princeling stay silent long enough to let a herd pass us by. Like most kids his age, the Princeling enjoys doing the opposite of what we say. If we said, "Princeling! You MUST be silent and NOT MOVE until we say so, or else zombies will eat us alive!" He will shout "NO!" and run away just to prove we're not the boss of him. 


And forget the Duke. He's just a baby. Babies are cute, but they are also kind of dumb and lack any sense of self-preservation. If he can't even figure out not to roll off the changing table, there is just no way he's going to survive a zombie attack.




3. Children Are Delicious. SO I'VE BEEN TOLD.
At least twice that I can remember, "True Blood" - which is nothing if not realistic - has referenced how delicious little kids are. There was that one time Eric and Pam babysat for Arlene's kids, and commented about how much they wished they could eat them; and in a recent episode a guy had been thrown into Authority prison for eating newborns.


And at least once in "Buffy: The Vampire Slayer" a reference is made to finding a nice, tasty toddler for Spike.


Now, zombies aren't the most practical of creatures, but even zombies have to have enough of a sense of smell to be able to pick out a succulent baby over, say, a stringy old person who reeks of hemorrhoid ointment and denture cream.


And no, that was not a suggestion to slather your children in hemorrhoid ointment and denture cream. 






How about you all? What are your strategies for the imminent zombiepocalypse? Besides grabbing your neighbors' babies and throwing them at the zombie masses while you make your escape YOU SICK PUPPIES.

Dude!

The next little member of our family will be born with a penis. Which means I will be the mother of two boys. 

(Liberal disclaimer: should either or both of my children-born-with-penises feel more comfortable as girls, I will fully support them, and depending on how our financial investments go, we might even help pay for any operations they wish to have.)


While we did sort of want a daughter - and the ladies in my husband's family are practically donning widow's weeds for lack of a princess to dote upon - I have to admit to a few reasons why I'm happy we get to have two boys: 

(Liberal disclaimer: a lot of these are non-politically correct on purpose for the sake of humor.)
  

• I will never have to defend letting her play with Disney Princesses
• No crying tantrums when she wakes up with her hair in a knotted, tangled mess
• My husband doesn't have to reverse his stance on gun ownership for her dating years
• I get to retain my title as Queen of the Household
• No one in this house will ever steal my tampons
• Three words we can all happily live without: Teenage Girl PMS
• The uppance for my 14-year old obsession with New Kids on the Block will now never come
• I never have to take anyone shopping for a training bra
• I've just DOUBLED my chances of having a child of mine play for the Yankees
• My husband now has TWO strapping young men to pass on the near-extinct family name Lopez
• Boys love their mommies

The biggest downside right now? My husband and I can only agree on one boy's name, and we already used it for our first son. 


The second biggest downside? Now I won't get the Skywalker Family costume I've always wanted to do. Maybe that's the biggest downside, actually. 

"Oh, woe is me!"

During my last pregnancy, when people asked if I was having a boy or a girl and I'd tell them, I got the dumbest reactions. 

Pregnancy is generally a time when everyone but the pregnant woman says asinine things. I think that preggos should be allowed to punch people. Or taser them. Whether strangers in elevators told me I looked like I was "about to give birth" (at 7 months along) or co-workers shouted, "Waddle waddle waddle!" as I waddled by, what on earth makes people think it's OK to say these things to a pregnant lady? 


But the worst reactions of all came in response to my declaration that we were having a boy. OTHER MOTHERS would tell me, "Oh, good. I mean, I love my daughters, but boys are better."


Yes, someone actually said that to me.

Possibly my own mother may have confirmed this statement, though I was high on post-natal hormones, sleep deprivation, and Percocet, and she now denies it.


Forget for a second that I am someone's daughter, and let's talk about how insensitive that remark is. What if we were having a girl? Would these women then gasp, clutch their pearls, and scream, "Oh dear god in heaven, someone help me get this poor girl-bearing woman to the nearest back alley abortionist!" I get that they were trying to be nice, but a simple, "Oh, how wonderful, boys are such a joy!" would have been fine. Really.

Do we really still live in a time when people prefer boys to girls? What is this, China? Do people really still believe that all girls all the time are always manipulative, evil, back-stabbing, overly dramatic creatures? Just because I was that way? 


As a feminist I did look forward to raising a strong-willed, outspoken, kick-ass young womym who would some day grow up to be the first Jewish-Cuban female President of the United States. 


Instead, I get to raise two strong-willed, outspoken, kick-ass young men who will become part of the solution and not part of the problem, will respect women as human beings, will follow their father's example and self-identify as feminist and LGBTQ allies, and will never ever ever leave me.


So let it be written. So let it be done.