Loving One Child More - Or, Another Reason I'm Happy Being Childfree

Over on a website for parents called Babble, there's a poor mother who opened herself up to a world of criticism.  She openly stated that she loves her son more than her daughter.  The full post can be read here.

I think she's very brave for saying what she did.  Because I think she's right and many, many parents aren't able to admit it. 

The author states:

There are moments – in my Sophie’s Choice type musings – when I wonder which child it would really be worse to lose…if I were ever forced to choose. I immediately feel awful and want to go and hug them both and never let them go.  It’s like watching a bus accident on TV: you can’t help but wonder, “What if that was my kid??” And then you are horrified that anything could ever happen to your precious children…it can’t, it just can’t!!

Then I feel terrible and ashamed for ever having thought such a thing, because I really love my daughter and I would never want to lose her at all.  When she’s not being defiant, she’s a lovely little girl who makes me laugh and marvel at all of the stories she tells and all the things she can do.  She was a very late talker so there are times that I still want to write down every word that comes out of her mouth and hold it up and cherish it.  And she’s been talking non-stop for a year now.

In the time I've spent on this planet of ours, my observations have led me to believe that many parents of multiple children have a favorite.  Even if they aren't willing to say it out loud.

The sheer amount of vitriol slung at this mother astounds me.  She was being honest about her feeling, and she is clearly trying to be a good parent.  She is critically examining her feelings and that is an action that should be applauded.  Just because we, as people, aren't suppose to feel something, doesn't mean that we don't.  That said, I'm glad this is one problem I'll never face.

The Strange Things Women Do When They're Pregnant

As someone who puts forth a good deal of effort not getting pregnant, I understand that I am coming at the whole "baby bump" fascination from the other side.  I happen to think pregnant women are kind of cute, in a "oh, thank the heavens it's not me!" kind of way, so I can see how people who are really into wanting children would be delighted by the big bellies that lead to babies.  Photographs of nude pregnant women has been a trend ever since Demi Moore did it in 1991 for Vanity Fair and photography studios everywhere now offer pregnancy shoots.  I have seen more acquaintances naked this way than I ever wanted to...  Why it seems people feel the need to take these images and plaster them over Facebook, I'll never know.  You wouldn't post naked shots sans baby bump, so don't do it with one!  Please leave it up to my imagination and keep those personal pictures for you and your loving family!

What I truly don't get is the trend of molding pregnant bellies into displays.  I really don't understand why someone would do this.  What are you going to do with it?  Display the thing?! Your ten year old will not thank you when his friends come over and you proudly show off the belly from which said ten year old came from.  (The other 10 year old's will happily tease your son for the rest of his schooling days about having seen his mother's knockers, though.  You think I'm exaggerating, but I've seen it first hand.  10 year old boys have absolutely zero concept about the beauty of pregnancy.)

 Oh, well, says the mom to be, in that case, I'll just do the mold without my breasts!  Great.  Now we have a disembodied stomach, with no reference as to what it is.  That's not creepy in the slightest. (Hand on a ball?  A giant melon?  Oh!  A belly!)

Or, instead of having just a tummy, how about we paint that thing up into a work of art!  Only, now moms-to-be are even more likely to want to hang it on the wall, leading once more to the 10 year old child's eternal embarrassment.  Not to mention the awkwardness of visiting house guests who are politely admiring the piece, while wishing they had stayed home.

Heard of any other strange pregnancy memorabilia?  I'm sure they're out there...

The Last Post

If you haven't already heard about it, there is an amazing blogger in Canada who posthumously published one last blog post (read it here).  It is one of the most amazing things I have ever read, and I highly recommend it.

The author, Derek Miller, has been blogging for over 10 years, and didn't stop when he found out he had cancer, or that it was terminal.  His last post has gone viral and it's estimated it has been read over 8 million times.  For me, it is the last line that I'll remember, as he's speaking to his wife.  "I loved you deeply, I loved you, I loved you, I loved you." 

As I've mentioned before, I lost my mother a little over a year ago to cancer.  And underneath the searing pain that still hunts me, is the knowledge that I was loved.  I never worry if my mother would have forgiven me for any mistakes I made along the way, because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she did.  She forgave my mistakes before I even made them.  I can only hope that when it is my time to face the end of my life, that I can do it with the grace and dignity that Mr. Miller showed. 

An Ode to Great Parents

I know that it may seem that I'm very down on children in general.  (When the blog is about being childfree, is that really surprising?)  One of the problems I have with children is that there are a shockingly small number of good parents.  I deal with children and parents quite regularly in my everyday life, and have come to the conclusion that very few people truly are "good parents."

This is, of course, not something you're allowed to say.  In our society, everyone is a good parent.  We go out of our way to reassure people of this from the moment they conceive (or even consider conceiving).  "Oh, you're going to be such a good mom!"  No one ever says, "Hmmm, have you really thought this through?  I mean, you two are nice people, sure, but I'm not so sure how you'll do as parents..."  When you add to this the fact that we have become an over-entitled, "don't judge me" society and, well, things were bound to get interesting. 

Please don't mistake me, I do not think society is going to hell in a hand-basket.  (Okay, I occasionally do, but it's a fleeting thought and I try to remember that people have thought the world was going to hell in a hand-basket from the moment there were people so it's probably not true...)  What I do think is that like everything else people do, parenting requires skill, talent, and effort, and that there are people who are better at it than other people. 

My girlfriend is a great mother, and I admire her every time I see her interact with her child.  I also see how much work she puts into her role as a mother each and every day, and I openly admit that I have no desire to follow in her footsteps.  Perhaps the best thing about my girlfriend is her honesty.  She tells it like it is and will openly state that the past years have not been magical or really even fun.  There's been fun parts, but mostly it's been a great deal of hard work.  (She says she's having more fun now that he's a bit older and they're doing a lot more, and it's easy to see how spending time with her child would be a delightful endeavor.  He has grown into a wonderful little person.) 

I salute good parents everywhere.   I wish there were a lot more of you.

I Am Not Your Babysitter!

Photo by left-hand

The other day at the doctor's office, I had a fun little experience that reminded me how child-centric our society is.  I was reading my book when a grandmother and her two grandchildren, aged 4 and 6, walk in.  (I know their ages, because she loudly told the person she sat beside.) 

The 4 year old, a little girl, walked right up to me and announced, "I have a dress on!"  I gave her a smile and told her that, yes, she did and it was very pretty.  Then I went back to my book.  The little girl proceeded to climb up onto the chair next to me and start to prattle about whatever it is that interests 4 year old people.  I looked up at her grandmother to intervene as I was clearly involved in my book and not interested in babysitting.  The grandmother smiles sweetly at me and says, "Oh, you might as well put your book away, she's going to be your friend!"

Um.  No. 

The child is not mine, at no point did I agree to take on any responsibility for it, and it is not my job to entertain it.   I gave the grandmother a pointed look and went back to my book, ignoring the girl until she got bored and went away. 

Now, I know full well I offended the grandmother.  I also know, from the sighs and muttering around me, that other patients thought I was being rude.  But I maintain that expecting strangers to provide any sort of child care is far more rude than having the stranger refuse to accept the unwanted and unasked for responsibility.  It says rather a lot about the perception people have of their children that they think everyone should want to drop what they're doing to fawn over them.

Mother's Day

I admit it.  I hate Mother's Day.  It a day where the whole world conspires to remind me that I no longer have a mother.  Commercials, friend's Facebook postings, crafts made by children, and storefront displays all gleefully shout that this day is for celebrating mother's.  And my heart breaks a little more at each one, until Mother's Day finally gets here and I'm so shaken and vulnerable inside that I spend the day hiding from more reminders that everyone else out there seems to have a mother or be a mother. 

My mother died a year ago in March of cancer.

I am not yet at the point where memories of my mother are sweet.  While there are happy things that I remember, they don't make me feel happy again.  Instead they stab at my heart with sharp points and remind me keenly of everything I no longer have.  I will be very glad when Mother's Day is over.

An Heir and a Spare

I admit it, I watched a few highlights from the royal wedding.  For about 20 minutes I was glued to my computer looking at pictures and watching short video clips.  I liked the dress.  Then I moved on, because weddings just aren't that fascinating, even my own.  (It took me nearly four years to finish my wedding album, because I got bored looking at wedding photos.)

However, at work that day all the buzz about about the wedding.  And when children would come.  I must admit that I felt a little sorry for William and Catherine.  Apart from not having a choice about having kids, these two will be expected to get to it, post haste.  We no longer live in a time when the monarchy really has to have kids, the country will go on even if they don't.  But even with that it's kind of a foregone conclusion that they will.

There was brief chatter about amending the dated and sexist succession rules to allow women equal rights to rule (and not get skipped over for just about anyone else available with a dangling bit), and that would be nice to see.  Should Will and Kate have a daughter it would be nice if she didn't get immediately forgotten about while everyone waits for the "right" gendered child to come along.  But I still think it's sad that it's an absolute given that these two will procreate.  What if they don't want to?