Have you always known you don’t want kids?
Yeah, pretty much. But then, there was a time in my life when I was never going to get married. (I think I got over that when I was twelve, though.)
Do you like kids?
Nah, not really. I don’t communicate well with them, even older kids. And as for the little ones, I can’t figure out how to get them to do what I want them to (mainly, stop running around and making noise, for the love of mike!) In general, I feel uncomfortable being around them. This could change if I spent more time around them. I am not eager to find out. I don’t like to be around yelling, screaming, or crying, and children seem to do these things a lot more than adults.
Why don’t you want children?
I can accept intellectually that watching your children grow is the most rewarding thing in human life, but I just can’t connect up emotionally with that. I get a lot of small rewards from a lot of different activities, and none of them seems a tenth as difficult as raising kids. I remember what it was like being a kid, and, all in all, I don’t tend to remember the happy things as much as I remember being ignorant and awkward and too young to do the things I want and in a terrible hurry to grow up as fast as possible so I could get this awful childhood/puberty thing over with . . . ugh . . . don’t even talk to me about puberty. It was difficult being a child, and it seems to me it would have been difficult being around me as a child, though my sainted mother denies this.
Are you afraid you will regret this decision when you get older?
The door is still open. I’m 28 now. If I want kids at 35, I’ll have kids at 35. I used to say that I’d probably decide I want them the first time my biological clock ticks. While that looks less and less likely as time goes by, I have not closed the door on the possiblity.
What do you see as the main advantage / disadvantage of not having children?
Advantage: Freeeeedom! Blessed freeeeedom! Freedom in how I spend my money. Freedom in how I spend my time. Freedom to swear whenever I want. Freedom to keep dangerous poisons under the sink without locking the cabinet. Freedom to play games with small pieces not recommended for children under three. Freedom from worrying whether the kid is safe and healthy. (And I’m a big worrier . . . that’s what’d really kill me.) My husband claims that if we had kids, he would do the majority of the childrearin’ so I wouldn’t have as much responsibility . . . and that makes me feel even worse. As a woman, I would feel guilty shouldering anything less than 50% of the burden. Sexist, I know, but shrug it’s my uterus talking, not my brain.
Disadvantage: I think it’d be really keen to watch a child’s mind grow, and to nurture it. We spent a long weekend with my friend’s family, and her little boy, about 2 years old, learned my name in the course of the weekend, and figured out that I would make cool tractor sounds if he brought me his tractor book to read to him. I found that absolutely fascinating. I sometimes find myself fantasizing over what books I would read to a child if I had one, what songs I would sing at bedtime, what fun games we could play together. (Another reason I shouldn’t have kids: I would certainly hog the all the Legos and make the kid cry.) And I think about the discussions I had with my mother about religion and politics and philosophy . . . thinking back as an adult, I just get more impressed with her, because she had a way of gently suggesting alternate viewpoints that was really very subversive. My mom was cool (though I didn’t suspect it at the time), and I sometimes think I’d like to be that sort of cool person in a kid’s life.
Do you feel that your culture is prejudiced against people (asp. married people) who don’t have or want children?
I’m getting a little more irritated with the “Oh, you’ll want them someday,” attitude. I used to answer with, “probably”–sorry, guys, I didn’t know at the time I was just encouraging Them–and nowadays I just say, “perhaps.” I’m sure in a few years, the answer will become, “Thank you for telling me my own mind. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I don’t like the idea that childless people get the short end of the stick in the workplace sometimes–parents, after all, have chosen to become parents, and there’s no reason why their childless colleagues should be granted less flexibility and consideration because they had the foresight not to box themselves in with a passel of kids–but it doesn’t happen to me, so I can’t really complain.