Thursday, January 19, 2012

I KID YOU, NOT

I used to feel happy with our decision not to have children, but over time this has changed:   I’ve grown to be really, really, really happy with this decision.  

It amazes me that as I approach the age of 50 this year, me and my husband STILL continue to receive unsolicited opinions from family, friends and acquaintances about the fact that we don’t have kids.  Maybe I should be flattered - do I still look young enough to crank one out???   I doubt it, but who knows.  Tho’  it doesn’t seem to register with any (or many) of them  (while it’s of course nobody’s business but ours) that we quite simply don’t WANT kids.   Didn’t want ‘em then,  don’t wish we had ‘em now and most certainly are not entertaining the idea of giving it a shot at this juncture.

I’ve expressed this sentiment honestly, in the most delicate way I know how because people are real sensitive on the issue.  (Yeah – they’re sensitive – ha ha ha).   And I get that blank look.  Or the disbelieving look.  Or the pitying look.   I think I’m too polite for my own good, but so often I’m dying to tell them:  Please, save your disbelief and pity for somebody who deserves it.  Your blankness, on the other hand, I can do nothing about.  That’s all on you…

I guess me and Chris are in a minority group, The Enthusiastically Child-FREE?   Seems so and if so, hell – I can tell you right now, it’s a group we feel advantaged to be a part of.   From the get-go, we embraced our life as a couple who are – as the classic song goes – Happy Together.  (Ironic, Flo and Eddie?  I think not: “I can’t see me lovin’ nobody but youuuuuuuu….”)   Yeah, but what about the dog…?  Does that count?  It’s gotta…

People think they’re so smart.  They need explanations.  They try to draw their own conclusions, think you’re damaged or deficient in some way.  Mothers pray it’s not THEIR FAULT that you’re not supplying them with GRANDCHILDREN, and the guilt that they unintentionally (or quite intentionally) bestow is aggressive or subtle or an unpalatable combination thereof.   It’s just rude, is what it is.   And a little sad, too.  ("Didn't you want me to be HAPPY, Ma?  Well I am!  I'm HAPPY!")  It. Does. Not. Compute.

People come right out and ask you if you regret not having a kid.  To each and every inquiry over the years, how wondrous it would have been to reply, distraught: “We’ve been trying for years but I can’t conceive.  It’s absolutely devastating. ”  Again, I chide myself for my cowardice, because for the past 25 years I have wanted to say exactly those words to whomever was grilling me about my child-FREE status.  “I’m barren.  A shell of a woman, alas…” and then burst into phony tears, begging them to please, please, PLEASE…pray for me.  Pray for my forsaken, babe-less womb.  We hope for a miracle yet…

But I’m a coward.   And now, approaching 50, it’s too late for me to even think about executing such a heart-rending performance.   Now THAT, I do regret. 

* * * * * * * *

But, you would be an incredible mother.   I get that one a lot.   Uh, yeah.   I know.  I’m doting, meticulous and nurturing and my ever-growing and revolving brood of animal rescues would attest to that fact quite appreciatively could they only speak to you about it.   And I’m quite sure my husband Chris would be an excellent father as well.  And why wouldn’t we make ass-kicking parents?  We’re a couple of top-quality people (ß-she said, modestly.)

But these facts are beside the point.   Our decision to revel among the Enthusiastically Child-FREE is based upon deeply intuitive feelings, thoroughly and mutually discussed and agreed upon, as to how we wished to live our lives together.  We remain true to ourselves and rejoice in each day.  Ours is a beautiful life, one that fills me with gratitude and elation.

For some reason, kids always seem to like me and wanna hang all over me.  A lot of them do, anyhow.  Go figure.  And breeder or non-breeder, I don’t feel like anyone should have to defend their personal life choices.  But quite frankly I never particularly cared for kids when I WAS a kid and I don’t particularly care for them now.  This is not to say that I DISLIKE kids.   It’s just that they don’t move me in any way that’s much different than your average human being moves me.  Some are annoying, some are delightful, some are sickening, some fill me with hope and inexpressible  joy.   Kids are just little people, growing into bigger people all the time.  You can only hope that the parents are raising them right.  Hope for the best for them all, and GOOD LUCK.  

Hey, you never know, maybe when I’m 56 and raking in sales from my 2nd or 3rd screenplay,  I’ll pull an Annie Leibovitz and adopt if I feel the need to have the experience of raising a child.   Life is crazy and things change all the time.  But I’m quite skippy for now, thank you very much.

Our life is a good life.   Nay, GRAND.   Not always an easy life, but a good life, a happy life, an often thrilling one filled with reciprocal love and adventure, growing wisdom and beauty.    

Vive La Difference`, I say,  and - always, always,

All Ways

To thine own self, be true.

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2 comments:

  1. Look, if you ever feel an Annie Leibowitz moment washing over you, stop and give me a call. Don't bother filling out all of those adoption forms or shooting up all those IVF drugs. Just call me and I will lend you my 3 boys for a weekend - preferably over a long, long weekend. I won't even charge you - no copays, no filing fees. No hidden charges! And that's not all, for no extra charge, my mom, Rita, will always be available for grandmotherly advice. As you can imagine, this invaluable advice usually consists of, "Just throw them in their room and shut the door!" or, "Just throw them outside and shut the door!"

    Let me know when...

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