It's That Time of Year

It's the time of year when an abundance of people in my facebook newsfeed are posting daily updates on what they are thankful for.  Though I try to avoid facebook trends, I have nothing against it, and in fact, it has given me pause for thought about what makes me thankful.

It is also the time of year when everyone around here has been ill with one thing or another.  One of my colleagues K has not only fought illness herself, but she has had to contend with the sickness of several children... dragging kids to the doctor, having to leave work early to pick up sick kids from school, missing work herself, and on and on it goes.

I finally lost my battle with one of the bugs going around.  I was never quite sick enough to stay home from work, but it did take all the strength I could muster to get through the day and then drag myself home to collapse into bed.  Each day for several days, as I allowed myself to rest and recuperate, I thought about how fortunate I was to simply be able to do so.  I considered how different my situation was from K's, and all I could think was, "Thank God I don't have kids."  When my husband fell sick, I could leave him at home to take care of himself so that I did not fall behind at work.

So while I won't post it on facebook (no need to open myself to the negativity that would undoubtedly ensue), I can share with you here:  today I am thankful that I don't have children... that I want to not have children... and that I have the freedom and the capability to make the choice not to have children.

Grocery Shopping, CF-Style

During a discussion with some mom-friends, the topic of grocery shopping arose and I described what inefficient grocery-shoppers DH and I are.  The gals paused, looked at each other, and nearly simultaneously blurted out laughingly, “You don’t have kids!”

Though I have frequently observed harried mothers plodding through the store as their children whined and fidgeted (while I wondered, “Where are these kids’ fathers to do the shopping or arrange for mom to shop in peace?!”), it was not until this conversation that I fully realized the luxury of being able to waste as much time as I please at the grocery store.  In fact, I began feeling a little smug about how much I enjoy my CF-style grocery shopping with DH… leisurely stopping by the sushi counter for a sample, wandering through the exotic cheeses, dropping everything at 11pm to venture to the store because we suddenly really want to make ice cream sundaes, making trips three times a week because we are terrible at planning ahead (plus, the fresh produce, milk, etc. only keep for so long).  Bonus: no pressure to buy chicken nuggets or juice boxes.

It was certainly something that never entered my mind when I decided not to have children, but it’s a nice perk and apparently not to be taken for granted!

Peace and Quiet

As an introvert, I have a natural bias toward peace and quiet, unlike some of my friends who thrive in loud, chaotic households.  In fact, my ability to maintain a quiet home is something I consider a fringe benefit of being childfree -- and reinforcement for why I would not and should not change my mind.

So, reading Ecclesiastes 4:6 tickled me as I considered how perfectly it reflected my view of family life: “Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and a striving after wind.”  Kids certainly seem like two hands full of toil to me!

If There Was Ever Any Doubt Before...

This past weekend we stayed with a friend who has a preschool-aged child.  It's no secret to all of my friends and family how I feel about small children, though it is also abundantly clear that I would never hurt anyone's children nor do I hate them.  I am kind to children and keep any personal negative feelings under wraps (as I do around the adults I don't like -- I have no interest in stirring up unnecessary conflict).  Some kids even surprise me, and I find myself enjoying their company.

This was not the case, however, with our nephew (we call the tyke our nephew even though there is no blood relation).  Throughout the entire weekend, my anxiety was sky-high, dipping only when the kid was asleep.  I must admit that the most enjoyable part of the trip was when everybody else went out for a couple of hours and I had the house to myself.

The noise, the drama, the tantrums, the interruptions, the demands...  Even when he wasn't being obnoxious, he was still unpleasant to be around.  My friend said, "Oh, but when the kid says, 'I love you,' your heart just melts."  Yeah, I saw the kid say "I love you" -- but only when he wanted to manipulate our friend.

I never doubt my choice to not have children, but if I had any doubts, this weekend would have affirmed my decision.  In fact, if I hadn't already had a tubal ligation, I think my tubes would have tied themselves!

Pets: All Joy and All Fun

(One more, and then I’ll change topics next time. I know, I know, I could talk about animals for hours.)

Ok, I’m being a little facetious with the title of this post. Cleaning up hairballs, scooping litterboxes, and stuffing cats into their carriers for a trip to the vet may not exactly be fun (though you will never hear me complain about it). And suffering the loss of a pet is so devastating that it sometimes makes me wonder why I adopt another.

But as I think about the daily life I have with my pets, I find it a stark contrast to the many articles I have read about the drudgery and unhappiness of parenting, yet another reason I think it is ridiculous for people to stereotype the pets of the childfree as replacement children. In the article “All Joy and No Fun,” the author describes the unpleasant work of raising children and discusses some of the reasons children can put a strain on relationships and people’s happiness. In this article and many others that I have read, people with children describe emotional highs and unrivaled joy that their children bring, and some recognize that these are so monumental that it lessens the unhappy feelings they have for the day-to-day of parenting. It makes the intolerable tolerable.

When I arrive at home, the cats greet me at the door. They eagerly follow me around the house as I put my car keys away, change out of my work clothes, and wash my hands for dinner. I’ll stop to give each one a scratch and will talk to them as I go about my business. It’s pleasant to have them at my heels, even when they insist upon coming into the bathroom with me.

We settle into the couch for some TV in the evening… one cat on my lap, one on the footstool next to me, and one on the coffee table in front of me. They sit quietly most of the time, or maybe one will stand in front of the TV and block our view. My husband and I just laugh.

I sit at my computer for a while to get some work done. Each cat takes a turn sitting on my lap. Sometimes they jump up on the desk and walk across the keyboard. With a smile on my face, I brush them aside and delete the “qqqqqqqqqqqqq1111``” that they have just contributed to whatever I’m working on.

Every moment I spend with them, regardless of what “annoying” thing they may be doing, is nice. In contrast, my parent-friends on facebook use their status updates to gripe about their children doing these very kinds of things.

One of my cats will perch on her back feet and stretch out her arms to be picked up, just like a child. The other day I scooped her up, felt her little arms grasping around my neck and shoulders, felt her soft fur against my face, and listened to her soothing purr. In that moment, it was no exaggeration to say that I experienced absolute euphoria. It reminded me of the extreme highs that I read about parenthood, and I felt like was I was getting away with something… all joy and all fun instead of all joy and no fun. Even if the “high” someone might experience with a child were a thousand times greater than what I was experiencing with this furry critter, I don’t feel the need for something more. And why would I even want to trade regular euphoria and consistent contentment for constant drudgery with only very rare thousand-fold euphoria?

So while my pets are not child substitutes as I explained in my previous post, I see that as an unintended consequence, a happy accident, they can gratify me in ways that children gratify their parents -- but without the high cost.

(P.S. Yes, I realize that this post could also be filed under “crazy cat lady,” haha.)

Reason for Being Childfree, or Just a Fringe Benefit?

When I read articles and editorials, I generally try to avoid reading the “Comments” section because of the deluge of poorly written, misinformed, or otherwise ignorant drivel that many people post. However, at the end of an online article I read on childfreedom, I broke my rule and found this little gem (I need to paraphrase here, but I am not too far off from the original quote): “…people want to be selfish and not have children so that they can sleep in on the weekends...” Now, I know that some people leave comments that are intended to be sarcastic or ironic, but from the context, I believe that this comment was serious. Mind you, there was nothing in the article or in the nearby comments about sleeping in or about selfish reasons for not having children. It seemed that the author of this comment could think of no reason for childfreedom other than the ability to sleep in on weekends.

I began pondering (as I so frequently do) why people choose to be childfree, and more specifically, I asked myself, What is a reason for being childfree versus a fringe benefit?

Certainly there may be people out there who choose childfreedom for a reason as “frivolous” as wanting to sleep in. Personally, I have not encountered such people (and even so, we all have our own physical needs -- who am I to decide how important sleep and rest should be to someone else?). In addition, research has shown that people’s reasons for not having children tend to be unselfish, unlike the generally selfish reasons people give for pursuing parenthood.

Nevertheless, I think some of us childfree do tend to rave about the fringe benefits rather than our actual reasons for childfreedom, and that may be why some people get the impression that we are selfish. As an early articulator, I was quite unaware of some of the fringe benefits when I made my decision, so I can guarantee that I was not motivated by “selfish” reasons like wanting to sleep in, wanting to spend all of my money on myself, and not wanting stretch marks. I took the time to make a list of my reasons, a list that started with the simple “I just don’t want them” (my first reason from a very young age) and has grown as I have grown and as I have had my choices questioned.

While this is probably not a comprehensive list, I think it is a decent summary.

• To my best recollection, knowing at such a young age that I did not want children was probably due to my general dislike of being around children (as a child myself, all I ever wanted to do was grow up) and to the horror I felt toward pregnancy and childbirth.
• On a related note, I have no urge to reproduce. No biological clock ticking.
• As I have stated before, I felt a call to take care of the world’s orphans instead of bearing children. I used to think adoption was in my future, but I’ve begun thinking that other things are my mission, like child sponsorship and support of other people’s adoptions.
• I don’t like being around many people, even my own relatives. I’m somewhat of a loner, and I like to spend time by myself. No, I need to spend time by myself to maintain my sanity.
• I love my husband and I cannot bear the thought of anyone coming between us. A child would divert my attention from him.
• I already feel complete. I don’t need motherhood to make me feel better about myself, and I don’t have a void in my life that I need to fill.
• I adore my career, and I have been career-minded ever since I chose my profession when I was 12 years old. And as a perfectionist, I want to be the best I can in my career. A child could only make me less of a professor/colleague and would distract me from my ministry to my students.
• I need a significant amount of peace and quiet. I could not abide the commotion that comes with children.
• I am independent, and I avoid relationships with anyone who is too needy. This is why I have cats instead of dogs; this is why the few friends I have are educated and talented people who are self-sufficient; this is why I fell in love with a free-thinking and free-spirited artist.

Don’t get me wrong about the fringe benefits -- they are fantastic. I love that I have not wracked my body with a pregnancy; I am happy that I avoided all of the pain, discomfort, and distortion that my friends have rued. I love my extra disposable income, income that I can use to sponsor children, support Show Hope (adoption) and other charitable causes, pay off my house, save for retirement, or travel. I love the flexibility of my schedule which allows me to work more if I want the extra money. I love my free time, which I use to volunteer at the animal shelter, relax with my husband, work on my garden, exercise, and even occasionally waste. I love being the center of my husband’s attention. No need for “date nights” for us, since we are always spending time together.

And, yes, I love being able to sleep in!

But just remember, the reasons came long before the fringe benefits, and the reasons are good.

Do you distinguish between reasons and fringe benefits? What are your reasons for being childfree? What are your fringe benefits?