Team Auntie

My friend who also writes a blog recently meditated on motherhood. Not strange for her since she has two monkeys herself. Then there was an article on http://www.blisstree.com about doctors refusing to perform tubal ligation. Apparently it’s a week for discussing babies. So here we go.

I started babysitting when I was 12, I loved kids. I loved playing with them, spending time with them, even changing their diapers. There was no doubt in my mind that one day I would be a mother. Then I got older, and older. I stopped babysitting (it was not nearly as lucrative as I needed it to be in college, sadly). And the older I got – the less sure I became. Until one day, I was in my mid-20’s and a friend stated to me that she was too selfish to have kids. And it struck me. So was I. So am I.

Being a parent requires a selflessness that I do not currently possess. Everything about your life turns into children. Do we have a babysitter for Friday night? When is the next play date? Diapers for the rug rat or a pair of shoes for me? What preschool is the midget going to? No thank you. I do not want to have to contemplate any of those questions. I can barely stand to plan ahead for my dog who has terrible separation anxiety. And boarding a dog overnight is WAY cheaper than an overnight babysitter.

I’ve even come to the conclusion that I have no desire to be pregnant. My mother would be horrified-she LOVED being pregnant. Glowed the whole freaking time. Having just released 47 lbs back into the wild the thought of not being able to see my feet has absolutely no appeal to me. The only part that sounds interesting is the thought of eating for two. And even then, if I wanted to maintain my girlish figure after the birth I probably wouldn’t be able to eat with the abandon I imagine. Plus with my luck I’d probably be one of those people who has morning/afternoon/evening sickness all the way through the pregnancy. So I probably wouldn’t even want to eat.

I am an awesome Auntie. I love my friend’s kids. For about an hour, two at the most. I love that I can fill them full of sugar, run them until they’re too tired to sleep, generally spoil them and then give them back. I do not have the patience required to be a parent. I’m generally right at the end of my rope and seriously considering all possible options to have a moment to myself when the parents come to rescue me. I am looking forward to their older years when I will gladly take on the more intimidating discussions and events that should still come from an adult such as sex, learning to drive, drinking (obviously not at the same time as the driving-unless I rope them into being DD) and their first tattoo. An Auntie is practically required for these events.

I sometimes get pushback from people (especially women) when I say I don’t have kids. “Soon?” or “Why not?” are the usual questions. “Nope. Don’t want them,” I reply. And suddenly I’m a leper. Women who have children, or want children look at me like I’ve grown male appendages. And then, when they realize I’m serious, they get that “How sad, you’ll never know the love of a child,” look on their face. I really, really hate that look. I do not want your pity. In our society we currently believe that women should want children. They should want them so desperately that they will pay hundreds of thousands of dollars, take hormones that are terrible for their body and put themselves though painful procedures for in vitro fertilization. They should be willing to pay enormous amount of money for surrogate mothers, and fly halfway around the world to adopt. Somehow, even in today’s overpopulated world, the primary goal of a woman should be to put more people on the planet. And I just don’t buy it.

I love my life the way it is. I feel no need to add teacup sized humans to my family unit. Our unit is all full up with just me, my hubby and our teenager-sized dog. How is it wrong of me to realize that what I want to do with my life, and babies, just don’t go together? Not even considering that the monetary commitment is totally out of my reach? I can barely afford the massive amounts of food my dog seems to go through!

So here I am, 31, childless and likely to remain that way. My husband and I both reserve the right to change our mind about children in the future. And if that should happen then the other party is required to at least be open to discussion. If my child bearing years are over then we’ll adopt. To tell the truth though, every time I look after a friends kid, or find myself exposed to a red-faced child in public my resolve actually goes the other way. Even holding a well behaved, good-looking, angel of a child (and I’ve had plenty to pick through lately, I’m currently knitting baby hat’s 5 and 6 for the year) leaves me with no desire to create my own.

And after this very enlightening reflection on my beliefs, I’m left wondering if I’m alone in the world. Is it more common than I think to have this point of view? Or am I mostly alone out there?

Anyone else out there want to be on Team Auntie?