By: Casey Mullins for YourTango.com
I will never be the woman who asks you about children. I will never ask you if you want them. I will never ask you if you’re trying to have them. I will never tell you that you should have them, and I promise I will never, ever tell you how many rich and beautiful blessings you are missing out on by not having children. Because have you met a child? They’re giant sticky time-sucks. I love my two little girls a whole lot, but there is a reason I only had two. And there IS a reason they are almost seven years apart.
I do not have a child-loving personality. Growing up I hated babysitting the two times I ever tried it, and I have actively avoided other peoples’ kids ever since. I grew up in a home where children were not to be out in public unless they were on their very best behaviour, so, needless to say, my sister and I were raised to handle adult situations, conversations, and sheer boredom without bothering my mum or anyone else.
When I found out I was pregnant, I decided—above all else—that it was my responsibility not to send an arsehole out into the world, and I’ve tried to parent in a way that will prevent such a thing from happening. I’m not perfect, but I can promise you I will never bring a toddler to an rated-R movie. And if she does happen to throw a fork at the back of your head in a restaurant? I will buy your meal and march that child right out to the car after they apologise. (But then again, if I knew I had a fork thrower on my hands, I wouldn’t take them out in public in the first place. You’re welcome.)
The truth is I could write an entire post about how much fun it is to have kids. I may even be able to convince a die-hard naysayer that kids can be cool sometimes because they can be. My kids hug with their whole bodies and the unconditional love they have for me despite my flaws and tendency to scream is unfathomable.
However, I’m well aware that the grass is often greener and while I love a good cuddle with one of my little chickens, here are a few things I envy of those who choose to remain child-free.
1. The walk to your bedroom is not lined with LEGO shrapnel, viciously awaiting your bare feet.