*Before you read this, I want to put a disclaimer up here. I love all of my friends dearly, so please do not take this post as a slight to any of you. I am simply expressing my feelings of my reality as it is. I started this blog with the intention to fully commit to the raw emotions as they come, and that is what I am doing.*
I was always the last kid picked for the kickball team. I was never anyone's first choice for a group project. Hell, at Junior Prom, I was the odd number in the limo because no one wanted to be my date. I've spent a lot of my life feeling lonely and being alone, even among a crowd of people. I'm just the odd woman out. Pretty much every day, someone tells me I'm weird (that's been going on since elementary school,) so after 30-some-odd years of it, I finally acknowledge and embrace it.
I've been left out of a lot of things because I don't have kids. Let's clear something up: just because I don't want kids doesn't mean I don't like kids. Sure, facing a classroom of Kindergartners would scare the bajeepers out of me, and make me a nervous freaking wreck, but kids are funny. Kids are smart (most of them.) Kids often give better advice than adults. But the time, energy, responsibility, and commitment it takes to get them there? No thanks.
I think choosing to go against the grain comes with the natural consequence of alienation. But you see, it puts me in a strange limbo - a purgatory of sorts. Here's a real-life example (no names): a friend of mine was having a
birthday party for their kid. An invite was put out on Facebook for
anyone could bring their kid to eat and swim. I joked that I don't have a
kid but I like to eat and swim, so can I come? They told me to pick up
a kid on the way. Now, it was all said in a lighthearted manner with
no ill-intent, but it just kind of hit me at that moment that I was not
"one of the crowd." I did not belong, and I still don't. I didn't put my body through 40 weeks of torture and hormones and changes and go through hours and hours of excruciating pain and labor, so I don't belong. I'm a different kind of person.
I've told Phil on multiple occasions that maybe we should have a kid so I would be included in more things and maybe the loneliness would subside. I would be invited to birthday parties, and the Kids Fair, and the park with my other mom friends, and Easter egg hunts, and Halloween parties, and the Zoo. But if I did that, it would be the equivalent of a woman becoming pregnant to fix her marriage. My marriage is in absolutely no distress whatsoever, so there is nothing to fix (other than the government, but I digress.)
But you know what? When I have ever been around parents, and they ask me if I have kids, I do this chuckle and say, "Nooooooo, no no nooo no," and they look at me like I'm an alien. If I had a nickel for every time I heard, "Oh, you're still young," or "It's the world's greatest calling to be a mother," I could buy my own private island and go live on it. I'd rather be lonely than listen to that crap over and over again. Nobody has the right to make me feel inferior for my choice. I am no less of a woman, and I am no less of a person because I choose to do other things with my time....like watch "Catfish" and "Teen Mom" (which ironically came on as I finished up this post.)
Some may see me as broken, but I don't need a child to feel complete.
Monday, March 30, 2015
Monday, March 23, 2015
Disney Didn't Get My Paycheck
Disneyworld is my nightmare. I can't think of anything worse than going to a "park" filled with hundreds of thousands of people to smell sweaty B.O. from the hot Florida sun and watching kids have meltdowns because Buzz Lightyear is scary in real life. The problem is I'm a sucker for pretty things that sparkle, so my inner girly-girl would marvel at the sight of fireworks over the castle on a clear summer night.
Speaking of Disney, I went to see Cinderella over the weekend with my friend Sherie and her two girls (who were complete ANGELS, by the way!) When I got to the theater, in the lobby was a gaggle of 6-year-olds all gathered for a birthday party and my first thought was, "Shit. What was I thinking?!" I immediately regretted not smuggling in a shot of liquor to ease the pain my ears would suffer from all the shrieking. And kids need leashes. There, I said it. Keep your kids contained, people. The last thing I want to do is play Frogger through the lobby to get to my theater.
Before the movie, there was a Frozen short film. Yippee. I could hardly contain my excitement. Frozen 2 is on its way to theaters, and I am in NO WAY obligated to go watch an imbecile dancing snowman with the name of a viking troll! However, I'm sure my nieces will tell me all about it.
As for the movie, it was very well executed. Costumes were AMAZING and the acting was very well done. Helena Bonham Carter was an excellent Fairy Godmother, and she was the most kid-friendly part of the film. Don't get me wrong, the movie isn't riddled with bad language or raunchy sex, but there are several adult themes carried throughout: Ella deals with the loss of both her parents, her stepmother verbally and emotionally abuses her, and she's locked in an attic the whole time. The Prince also deals with the death of his father, and faces running the kingdom before he's really ready to do it. So, my point is just because Disney slaps their name on a film doesn't automatically mean it should have a 'G' rating. Use a little discretion. I would rate it PG-13, and maybe that's me being somewhat of a Holden Caufield, but I don't want to have to answer questions my 6-year-old asks about parents dying.
Here's one reason I shouldn't be a parent: I would be intrigued to see what Tim Burton or Rob Zombie would do with this story. Can you imagine a dark, sinister version of this film?
Now, excuse me while I go watch Beauty and the Beast before bed.
Speaking of Disney, I went to see Cinderella over the weekend with my friend Sherie and her two girls (who were complete ANGELS, by the way!) When I got to the theater, in the lobby was a gaggle of 6-year-olds all gathered for a birthday party and my first thought was, "Shit. What was I thinking?!" I immediately regretted not smuggling in a shot of liquor to ease the pain my ears would suffer from all the shrieking. And kids need leashes. There, I said it. Keep your kids contained, people. The last thing I want to do is play Frogger through the lobby to get to my theater.
Before the movie, there was a Frozen short film. Yippee. I could hardly contain my excitement. Frozen 2 is on its way to theaters, and I am in NO WAY obligated to go watch an imbecile dancing snowman with the name of a viking troll! However, I'm sure my nieces will tell me all about it.
As for the movie, it was very well executed. Costumes were AMAZING and the acting was very well done. Helena Bonham Carter was an excellent Fairy Godmother, and she was the most kid-friendly part of the film. Don't get me wrong, the movie isn't riddled with bad language or raunchy sex, but there are several adult themes carried throughout: Ella deals with the loss of both her parents, her stepmother verbally and emotionally abuses her, and she's locked in an attic the whole time. The Prince also deals with the death of his father, and faces running the kingdom before he's really ready to do it. So, my point is just because Disney slaps their name on a film doesn't automatically mean it should have a 'G' rating. Use a little discretion. I would rate it PG-13, and maybe that's me being somewhat of a Holden Caufield, but I don't want to have to answer questions my 6-year-old asks about parents dying.
Here's one reason I shouldn't be a parent: I would be intrigued to see what Tim Burton or Rob Zombie would do with this story. Can you imagine a dark, sinister version of this film?
Now, excuse me while I go watch Beauty and the Beast before bed.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Welcome to My Kid-Free Life
This is my latest venture. I've struggled for a really long time to figure out what I should write about. I have a meager history in blogging -- I'm probably most "famous" for my England blog, but that did not extend any further than my Facebook friends.
Over the past year or so, I have become more comfortable in my decision to not have children, and in turn, have become more open in talking about it. The problem is that nobody else is talking about it. I see a BuzzFeed article every now and again with yet another list of reasons to not have children, but nobody is really talking about the issue. Nobody is sharing their thoughts or their feelings or their experiences, likely because society has said that it's not okay.
I grew up in a Baptist home, and it was made clear to me that bearing children was a woman's lot in life. Thanks, Eve. So why would I want to put myself through something that I know is a punishment?
Now, before you stop reading and discount me, you should know that I was pregnant once. In November 2010, I succumbed to temptation and cheated on my lying, lazy, selfish, neglectful husband who had ignored me for 5 years. I wasn't on birth control because what was the point? I was working as a substitute teacher because I got laid off from my real teaching job (thanks, KY Legislature,) and as a part-time tutor, so I had no health insurance. I'll never forget that feeling I had when I went to the Health Department to verify the two pregnancy tests I had already taken. I was sick, scared, ashamed, and somewhat relieved because I knew this would be the way out of my crap marriage. There was one point where I actually prayed to God to take care of it. I prayed that the baby would just go away. If you've ever seen the Lifetime movie "The Preacher's Daughter," you'll kind of know what I mean. Over the next couple of months, I began to experience the cravings and sickness, but I also started spotting, and eventually thought I miscarried. Long story short, I moved out and came back home to Louisville. One night in February 2011, I had what was my actual miscarriage. If you really want to know how I knew, I'll tell you, but the details are not important or relevant to this post.
That was a turning point for me. That's the moment I began to question whether or not I would ever be a mother. Granted, that baby was not conceived in love by any means, and the miscarriage was an act of mercy, but it changed my life.
Now, I meander through my day-to-day thanking God, or the universe, or whatever you believe in, that I don't have another mouth to feed, because I simply could not do it. Not only is it a financial issue, it's a sanity issue. My dogs are enough, thank you very much. Sometimes they're just as bad as any kid.
I don't have a problem with kids, I just don't want them. I have 3 nieces who are my bundles of sunshine, and I would die for all of them, but I get to give them back at the end of the day. I get to sleep when I want, I don't have to share my food, I don't have triple the laundry, and I don't have to deal with pee, poop, and puke. I don't have to carry a diaper bag or backpack full of kid stuff that will probably get lost in transit. I can go to Wal-Mart at 3:00 in the morning if I so desire (I really don't, but you get the point.)
I do kind of freak out when kids eat, though. I watched my oldest niece choke on a pancake when she was a baby, and it scarred me for life. My family and I went to a Mexican restaurant once and I told my middle niece to "chew those beans." Yes, they were refried, and basically brown mush on a plate, but she could still choke, alright?! So of course, they get a kick out of teasing me about it. I would honestly need a valium pump if I had a kid because I'd be afraid they would choke on breastmilk. Seriously.
Alright, enough anecdotes already? Fair enough. Stay tuned for more kid-free adventures!
Over the past year or so, I have become more comfortable in my decision to not have children, and in turn, have become more open in talking about it. The problem is that nobody else is talking about it. I see a BuzzFeed article every now and again with yet another list of reasons to not have children, but nobody is really talking about the issue. Nobody is sharing their thoughts or their feelings or their experiences, likely because society has said that it's not okay.
I grew up in a Baptist home, and it was made clear to me that bearing children was a woman's lot in life. Thanks, Eve. So why would I want to put myself through something that I know is a punishment?
Now, before you stop reading and discount me, you should know that I was pregnant once. In November 2010, I succumbed to temptation and cheated on my lying, lazy, selfish, neglectful husband who had ignored me for 5 years. I wasn't on birth control because what was the point? I was working as a substitute teacher because I got laid off from my real teaching job (thanks, KY Legislature,) and as a part-time tutor, so I had no health insurance. I'll never forget that feeling I had when I went to the Health Department to verify the two pregnancy tests I had already taken. I was sick, scared, ashamed, and somewhat relieved because I knew this would be the way out of my crap marriage. There was one point where I actually prayed to God to take care of it. I prayed that the baby would just go away. If you've ever seen the Lifetime movie "The Preacher's Daughter," you'll kind of know what I mean. Over the next couple of months, I began to experience the cravings and sickness, but I also started spotting, and eventually thought I miscarried. Long story short, I moved out and came back home to Louisville. One night in February 2011, I had what was my actual miscarriage. If you really want to know how I knew, I'll tell you, but the details are not important or relevant to this post.
That was a turning point for me. That's the moment I began to question whether or not I would ever be a mother. Granted, that baby was not conceived in love by any means, and the miscarriage was an act of mercy, but it changed my life.
Now, I meander through my day-to-day thanking God, or the universe, or whatever you believe in, that I don't have another mouth to feed, because I simply could not do it. Not only is it a financial issue, it's a sanity issue. My dogs are enough, thank you very much. Sometimes they're just as bad as any kid.
I don't have a problem with kids, I just don't want them. I have 3 nieces who are my bundles of sunshine, and I would die for all of them, but I get to give them back at the end of the day. I get to sleep when I want, I don't have to share my food, I don't have triple the laundry, and I don't have to deal with pee, poop, and puke. I don't have to carry a diaper bag or backpack full of kid stuff that will probably get lost in transit. I can go to Wal-Mart at 3:00 in the morning if I so desire (I really don't, but you get the point.)
I do kind of freak out when kids eat, though. I watched my oldest niece choke on a pancake when she was a baby, and it scarred me for life. My family and I went to a Mexican restaurant once and I told my middle niece to "chew those beans." Yes, they were refried, and basically brown mush on a plate, but she could still choke, alright?! So of course, they get a kick out of teasing me about it. I would honestly need a valium pump if I had a kid because I'd be afraid they would choke on breastmilk. Seriously.
Alright, enough anecdotes already? Fair enough. Stay tuned for more kid-free adventures!
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