Get Your DINK On

It’s not that it scared me to walk into the living room in my underwear, only to find a construction worker standing on my balcony while I had the blinds open. Sure, the blood from said construction workers on my stairwell is disgusting. And, no, I don’t like having to park my car farther away so that they don’t throw siding on it.

It was the noise. After several days of siding replacement related noise and a no-nap baby, I had hit my limit. My nerves were shot. It seemed like someone was trying to land an airplane on my roof while they went and built the apartment up around us.

Luckily, I called in the reinforcements: Grandma and Grandpa. They were kind enough to take my offspring on Friday night and let her spend the night with them.

After a mediocre dinner, we walked around the “Market Area” of town. Actually, I hobbled with my pregnant legs. I’m finally getting to that point where yes, I sometimes feel like my hips are about to pop out of place. We headed to a high-end kitchen store, where I spotted an ice cream maker.

“Hey, remember that,” I said to The Hubs. “Remember the time we drove all over trying to find one?”

“Yeah, why did we do that?”

“Because we didn’t have a kid and had a lot of time to sit around and make ice cream.”

In other words, we were DINKS. Dual income, no children. (Might I add, after hearing the word “breeder” used more than I care to mention, how happy I am to see the word DINK?)

Having a child means that there is usually something going on in the house. Yes, they scream and they cry and sometimes they fall down on the playground and get a very large bruise on their cheek, but man, they’re just so freaking cute.

If I didn’t have a kid, could I imagine having conversations such as “How did she exactly get the poop in her hand and why was she in the living room with it?”

My parents are now DINKS. They wake up on weekends and say “What shall we do today? Let’s go into town! Let’s go to a festival! Multiple festivals!” They also have a nice house and are building a pool.

“Look at those DINKS,” we whisper. “How dare they think that they can go and make money and then spend it on themselves!”

I can’t imagine having time and money to do all the things I want. Sometimes I read about friends of mine doing things in public. The Mommy part of me thinks “What? How did you do that with the diaper bag and the car seat and the kid?”

OOoooooohhhhh, right. No kid. I get it. You have this thing called “time.” The only time someone slaps you around (hopefully) is when you ask for it.

The deal with becoming a parent, is that everything changes. Going out to eat is no longer a relaxing experience. Instead, it becomes a frantic exercise in shoveling your food into your mouth and hastily asking the server for the check. You constantly grab items off the shelf in stores just so your child can entertain herself with a box of tampons while you search for a certain brand of shampoo.

You also get used to speaking to a child. So accustomed, in fact, that you keep up the program even when the child is not in the house. You refer to your spouse as “Daddy.” No, not as in “Who is your daddy,” but “Daddy, would you please hand me the spoon?”

You feel you should wipe other people’s faces with a wet wipe.

I think the major part of living the Breeder Lifestyle is the fact that you hardly have any time to yourself. You get used to the fact that you have to keep the door open while you pee so that the toddler will “understand what it means to go potty.”

So, when you do decide to try to do “Mommy/Daddy” things that definitely involve keeping the door shut, try not to get confused. It is a good idea to remember that when you finish, clapping loudly and saying “Good boy! Goooood boy! You did such a good job!” might not be the best idea.

Instead, I’d offer a graham cracker or some Cheerios.


  1. I have been known to ask the hubs if he has to go “potty” in public…..without the kids being around. It’s so damn embarassing for him!

    Comment by Priscilla — 10/9/2005 @ 9:31 pm

  2. …and THAT, my dear friend, is what i would consider a *plus* of the DINK Lifestyle. (wink, wink)

    though even i can say there are extreme benefits to having the kids and the car seats and the diapers. just no…um…dinking in the car. ;) you know, OTHER benefits. like sticky kisses and pigtails and ‘love you’’s.

    still, i wouldn’t put it past you to get the hubster out for a little fun, if you know what i’m saying.

    Comment by Sarcomical — 10/9/2005 @ 11:04 pm

  3. I have one Son that is about to turn 1…
    This summer my husband and I were running late to a family function and when we finally arrived, after an emergency diaper change stop and other miscellanous things such as applying make-up in the car, arguing, etc, my brother-in-law (married DINK) makes the comment of how he does not understand why in the world it would have taken us so long to get ready…if it wasn’t for the child I was holding on my hip, I would have gouged his eyes out.
    Love my Kiddo!

    Comment by Mariselle — 10/10/2005 @ 12:07 am

  4. Your siding situation reminded me of my pregnancy, when they decided to do major work outside of my bedroom window at 6am every morning for 2 weeks. I swear I would have stabbed the workers with the claw of their hammers had I not been on bedrest. Anyway, I’ve never really been a DINK, but I dream of doing those type of things. One day…
    In the meantime, I’m happy when we make it out the door in under 20 minutes, and no one pees in the carseat. Anyone need a potty break??

    Comment by Crystal — 10/10/2005 @ 1:46 am

  5. God knows I love my kids (and usually my hubby) but right now I could be tempted to trade them all in for a DINK lifestyle!!

    Comment by Amber — 10/10/2005 @ 2:19 am

  6. The grass is always greener……..

    Comment by kim — 10/10/2005 @ 2:54 am

  7. Breeder Lifestyle !

    that cracked me up.

    i’m into the DINK lifestyle for one reason only. i know i’d be a horrible mom.

    that and the hubs-to-be is probably shootin’ blanks ;)

    Comment by honeybunny — 10/10/2005 @ 7:58 am

  8. It’s gotten to the point where I am completely incapable of putting on my makeup in any mirror but the one in my car. I usually just order food and the check at the same time now. Lingering long meals are a foreign concept to me.

    Comment by debutaunt — 10/10/2005 @ 10:07 am

  9. the funny part is, whenever you DO get a break from being a breeder for a while and get to try DINKing, especially by yourself, is that you can no longer figure out what to do with so much freaking time on your hands.

    i’m so used to doing twenty million things a day that if i have a whole day to myself, i go catatonic. it’s just too much time to even fathom.

    Comment by rachael — 10/10/2005 @ 10:26 am

  10. Rachel hit the nail on the head… when I all of a sudden FIND time for myself (when the husband decides to watch the kiddo all afternoon or I beg someone to watch the child)–I sit and stair at the wall wondering what the hell I should do. You know, what will give me the most bang for my buck (pun intended).

    Comment by bethany — 10/10/2005 @ 10:54 am

  11. My dear, you capture it so well. LOL

    Comment by Ninotchka — 10/10/2005 @ 11:28 am

  12. I remember money. It was the green stuff I spent so freely during that…um….what was it? Oh! Time!!!

    Comment by Laura — 10/10/2005 @ 12:44 pm

  13. Word.

    Wouldn’t trade the breeder lifestyle for the dinky lifestyle though, even if I could do it all over again. That’s what my late 40’s are for.

    Comment by ieatcrayonz — 10/10/2005 @ 12:58 pm

  14. My younger sister used to make fun of our other sister for all the “stuff” she seemed to need for the baby…. She and her husband would say: “You don’t have to bring the whole HOUSE with you".

    God punished them. They had twins and learned that YES you DO have to bring the whole house…only, they had to bring TWO houses.


    Comment by Nancy France — 10/10/2005 @ 2:16 pm

  15. DINK may be my new favorite word. Thank you SJ.

    Comment by Jack’s Raging Mommy — 10/10/2005 @ 2:27 pm

  16. I remember fondly those days BK (before kids) when I could sleep in on a weekend, walk barefoot into the living room with out stepping on a lego, and take the time to savor my meals; not gulp them down one handed while trying to cut up someone elses food with the other. Now I beg for my hubs to take the kids to grandma’s (out of town) for the weekend, not so I may take a bubble bath and relax, but so I can catch up on housework! But I still would not trade the breader lifestyle for that of a DINK, not for all the bubble baths and disposable income in the world!

    Comment by Kari — 10/10/2005 @ 2:35 pm

  17. Aaaah…yes…the DINK lifestyle…sigh.
    I have no idea what people are complaining about when they do get the time and don’t know what to do with it. Here’s an idea: NOTHING. It’s what I do when I have it. Nothing. As in, sit in a chair and read. Quietly. No fucking crying, no fucking banging of toys, no throwing of unidentified objects, no whining about something or other. Nothing. Quiet. It’s beautiful. There’ s no boredom and no guilt. So…yea….do nothing. It’s good for the soul.

    Comment by AMP — 10/10/2005 @ 3:26 pm

  18. Ok I have a construction story that might top yours. When I first moved in with my boyfriend, now husband, we took advantage of that whole avabile 24/7 thing. We decided to have a little bit of fun in the shower one day and were getting ready to leave the bathroom. Well we pulled the shower curtain back and there were some workers there replacing the gutters. We were living with my in-laws at the time and they had scheduled them do some work but forgot to metion it to us. Well I stepped out first and saw the guy and he looked away right away. I hide in the shower and told my husband to check to see if they were gone. He wasn’t and soon figured out that there were two people stuck in the shower waiting for them to leave. Thankfuly after having a small chuckle they left long enough for us to escape.

    Comment by Cristina — 10/10/2005 @ 6:10 pm

  19. Ha! I am trying to encourage the use of the potty in my 2 yer old…we have only got as far as him insisting that he accompany me to every pee I take and yelling ” oh GOOD BOY mummy! wee wee toy-yut”

    Comment by Helen — 10/11/2005 @ 11:05 am

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