I think about writing posts a lot, but whenever I start to, I think, "well, it's been so long anyway...why bother?" This morning, I decided that if I was ever going to get more consistent with anything, I'd better actually follow through with it.
That said, let's just hop in and talk about something important that comes up exceedingly often in my line of work. If you can't tell by now that this is something that's been bothering me for awhile, you'll figure it out here in about three seconds.
For better and worse, working in childcare changes you. In no time at all, you become okay with a lot of things you never thought you would be. Kids are sort of exhibitionists in that they'll just waltz out of the bathroom, undercrackers at their ankles, and casually inform you that they went to the movies this weekend. You stop flinching when someone sneezes right in your face. When there's a giant bug in the room and everyone screams--you too, on the inside--you calmly whisk it outside or trap it with a tissue. You grow up in some really subtle (but significant) ways. You learn that you can absolutely fall in love with a child that isn't yours.
It can be a wonderful experience. I'm especially grateful that I came into this field because I've learned a lot about love and patience. You learn to multitask like you never could before when seventeen kids at a time are waving their shoes or juiceboxes at you with immediate urgency. The smallest gestures suddenly mean the world (like when that one really reserved little girl who hates being touched opts to come hold your hand). However, this time in my life has also affirmed something that (if I'm being honest) I've already known for awhile.
Here it comes, so don't read any more if you think this is going to change anything between us.
I don't think I was put on this earth to be a mother.
There. Pretty straightforward. Unfortunately, the simplicity of the situation seems to end right about there. While I don't openly project my thoughts on the matter, the question of "doesn't this make you want you want your own?!" is thrust at me on a daily basis. This is especially prone to happening right when one of my little ones approaches me for a hug or I get caught dancing to "Frozen" songs with them. The person in question's face lights up and I know it's coming.
"Doesn't this job just make it so hard to wait to have one?"
Honestly, out of politeness and a desire to let the subject go, I generally just give a vague response and have it end there. In an ideal setting, that would just happen every time. Unfortunately, some people are quite adept at sensing hesitation and will pursue the matter anyway.
Now, we're going to talk about some of the more memorable responses I've gotten from these bewildering people who (I'm convinced) are on personal crusades to make sure everyone gets a baby. This is absolutely not to say I would ever judge anyone else for having a child--I feel like you should take care of you, and if a baby makes you happy, then by all means, have one and love that child with all your heart. Some of my closest friends are mothers and wouldn't change a thing--and you know what, you go, girls. I'm only speaking from my own personal experiences and desires.
"Oh, it's different when it's your kids--you work with other peoples' kids all day. You'll change your mind!"
I would actually argue that working with a large number of children on the daily has given me a pretty unique perspective. No two kids are the same, and I get to experience a veritable cornucopia of them all. Some are naturally sunny, and others are legitimately ornery despite their young age. Even with such a generous sample size, I have to disagree. I don't feel that this argument, on its own, warrants procreating.
"You're still pretty young. You don't know what you want yet. You'll change your mind!"
I'm going to be honest, this argument freaks me the fuck out. As an assistant preschool teacher, I spend time with a lot of little girls. A sizable chunk of that time involves playing with them. I can't express how many times one of the girls has come up to me with a baby doll and gone on excitedly about being a mommy. Do you know how anyone within a five-mile radius responds to that? "Oh, how sweet! She already knows she wants to be a mommy! She's going to be so good at it someday!" We live in a society where a three-year-old girl who is still discovering herself and can't decide if her name is Elsa or Rapunzel today will be taken more seriously (and encouraged) for expressing inclination toward motherhood than someone in their early 20's rejecting the notion who's had time to experience life and think about it. You look at me and tell me something isn't wrong with that.
"I didn't think I wanted kids either, but now I have (x) and I couldn't imagine my life without them. I was exactly like you in every way, and I still ended up becoming a mom, so you will too! You'll change your mind!"
Sincerely, congratulations. I'm never going to look down on you for following the path that was right for you. However, as soon as you shove your own experiences at me as justification for being invasive about my personal choices, I draw the line. No two people are the same, and what works for one is certainly not guaranteed to work for the other. While it certainly is true that some people are hesitant at first and come into motherhood happily after all, if I'm not starting out 100% for having a child, I'd rather not take the chance. That's my decision, and I would never insist anyone did the same! Please do me the same courtesy.
"But what about Marcus? What about his family? He's an only child, so if you don't have kids, you're taking away their only chance for grandchildren. That's selfish!"
My god. The first time someone said this out loud to me, I legitimately didn't know how to respond. I think I said something to the effect of "What about Marcus? He knows!" I was very clear about my feelings on this early in our relationship, and he decided to stay along for the ride anyway. We've discussed it extensively (obviously, I'd prefer he moved on if this was a non-negotiable issue!) and he's fine with it. As for his parents, I recently came out to them about this, and his mom's answer especially has stuck with me for months. As we sat there in the parking lot of the grocery store, she said, "We love you for who you are! I raised my son to know that he might someday be with a woman who wanted nontraditional things out of life. It makes absolutely no sense for me to project any potential desire for grandchildren onto you and your body. If I ever felt like I "needed" grandchildren, I'd just go be a nanny or buy a dog or something. I would never want you to do anything you didn't want to do, especially because a child is a lifelong commitment and you have to be sure about it. Now, let's hug and go buy some Bailey's." I don't like feeling like I need to justify any of that to anyone to begin with, but the immediate people concerned are all aware of the situation and seem to be fine with it. Beyond that, I fail to see how it affects people who decide to bring this up anyway.
"But you'd be such a good mom! Why would you put that potential to waste? That's selfish!"
I don't doubt that I'd be a good mom, actually. I love my kids, and I try to use a lot of the methods I remember enjoying from my mom to teach and play with them. However, I also have a lot of qualities that aren't immediately suited to parenting. I'm easily overwhelmed and I get impatient quickly. While I try not to show it (because honestly, they're children!), I spend a fair amount of time irate because when I become tired or frustrated, I tend to favor quiet, and kids are very loud by nature. They are also incredibly demanding and are largely inwardly focused at this age. Is this wrong? Well, no, they're three. They're learning about the world around them--it still hasn't occurred to most of them that others around them have feelings and needs just like theirs. My job is to teach them that! It's exhausting. I love it, but I also get to be done at the end of the day--which is good, because at this present juncture, I wouldn't be able to handle any more. I feel like if you opt to have a child, you sort of owe it to them to be willing to put them first. I'm not. But I know that. That's part of my conscious decision to not bring a child into the world--it wouldn't be fair to do it if it wasn't going to be my first priority. As an aside, I feel like I have the potential to become a lot of fulfilling things. It gets to a point where you have to choose. Nobody's complaining about how I might end up wasting the potential to become a successful baker or florist, so...
"But your kids would be so cute! Especially if you had a daughter--she could wear bows just like you! How can you not want that?!"
What?! This is how I can sort of tell that someone's running out of things to say. Do you know what else is cute? My puppy is fucking adorable. She has an underbite for days and her little butt sways when she walks. She clearly thinks she's royalty. She's also a living thing with needs and she requires constant maintenance. She's eaten things she shouldn't have before and gotten violently sick. She's gotten trapped under things, tried to make a break for it when someone's taking the garbage out, and she has this special ability to step right on your face even in total darkness. Daisy is a complete handful. When we made the decision to adopt her, her cuteness had almost nothing to do with it. We had to decide after months of research if we were truly financially and emotionally ready to handle a new member of the family. When we finally were, we took her home--and the learning curve was exhausting. We love that little Shih Tzu, but it would have been a terrible decision and completely unfair to her to adopt her just because she was "SO cute!" and not have a plan beyond that. My point is, she's a dog. She isn't going to grow up to talk (to my knowledge, anyway) and go out into the world and eventually become a functional adult. It isn't my responsibility to teach her about life, love and sexuality. I'm just sort of there to provide for her needs and fawn over her a little bit. A child would be an even bigger decision, cute or not. (Side note: if I had a son, he could just as easily wear bows as a girl could, okay?)
It sort of says something, I think, that this started off as one thought and became a novel. There's a ton more to say on this subject, but this is the condensed version that I read and reread a thousand times. It is appalling to me that, for times considered to be so modern, a woman would be met with so much opposition for rejecting the notion of motherhood. Still, here we are--it gets tiring! I can only feign politeness so long when people try to make my personal life their business. I'm going to be 22 soon--22! I'm not even technically in my mid-twenties yet and I still get comments from people at work about how I'm not getting any younger, so what's the holdup? It's so conflicting, because you go through this really awkward phase between about twelve and eighteen where you're a total disgrace if you get pregnant (but you're not allowed to opt of it, because you're being punished for your sexuality by being forced into motherhood)--and then you hit your 20's and bam! Everyone wants to know where you're hiding all these babies you were supposed to have started having by now. Get married (or not) when you want. Have children (or not!) when you want. I don't care how old you were when you had your kids if you're a loving parent who tries their best. By that same token, it should matter exactly zero percent to you where I am in my life and whether my plan involves children.
Spoiler alert, it really doesn't.
If it makes you feel better (which, honestly, it shouldn't, because this concerns you not at all) to think that I could technically change my mind, okay. I may or may not fight you on it depending on how important you are to me. I've had people very close to me express disappointment when I've shared my thoughts with them. It's upsetting, but it isn't going to make me feel any differently to be guilt-tripped and argued with. Do I wish people would just realize that their lives are in no way impacted by what I do with my body? Sure, that's why I wrote this. It's not something I'm ashamed of, so it shouldn't be something anyone wants to make me feel guilty about. It still stings a little bit when someone tries, but it is what it is. I'm confident enough in how I feel in my heart to be able to stand up to the criticism I encounter on an almost daily basis.
It's a battle I certainly wish nobody had to fight, but that's not going to change if we all just stay quiet about it.
On that note, I'm going to end my tirade here. My point has mostly been made, and my thoughts have mostly been translated.
If you made it this far, thanks for understanding. I'll still watch your kids for you--and, for what it's worth, I do a pretty kick-ass Elsa braid.
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