Reading some of my usual haunts today, I came across this link, regarding “adults only” weddings and receptions. The author explains that she’s noticed a growing trend among people who plan their weddings and don’t invite the children of those people they invite.

I love weddings. What could be more fun than a chance to witness the union of two crazy kids in love, dress up, drink some wine, and hang out with family and friends for hours - not to mention hit the dance floor for the “Chicken Dance” and “YMCA”?

But then a few weeks ago, we got the invitation and saw these unwelcome words: “Adult Reception.”

This, of course, is a polite way of saying, “Leave your offspring at home.”

I understand why some people would be upset about this; the author describes planning a vacation around one wedding only to discover that the children would not be welcome, which undeniably throws a monkey-wrench into the gears of things if they had already made plans and arrangements. What she doesn’t seem to grasp, however, is how much of a monkey wrench it might be to have the children there.

Perhaps to some, those words suggest sophistication and elegance, a social event unmarred by small insistent people in powder-pink crinolined dresses and miniature suits. To me, though, the phrase represents disappointment and hassle, child-care costs, worrying about leaving the baby, and worrying about the poor sitter I’ll be leaving with my brood.

The author seems to acknowledge that some people might actually prefer to enjoy an event without children, and alarm bells go off for me when she comments about “the poor sitter” - if your children behave in such a way that you’re concerned about their behavior with the sitter, what makes you believe that anyone at the wedding wants to be subjected to that sort of thing?

The impression that I get is that the writer sees finding a sitter for a few hours is an inconveneice to her. She implies that the only reasons a couple - scratch that, a bride, since the groom has no input according to her - would want to have an adults only wedding and reception is for costs, because surely no one can resist children in formalwear, right? Nevermind that the couple is shelling out thousands of dollars for a one-time event centered around them, and that they should be able to have it go as planned, without having to worry that the video of their ceremony will be interrupted by a tantrum or that someone’s dress will be puked on. Plus, while I happen to think little dresses and gowns are cute, I’d like to think that the focus of the wedding is on the bride and groom, and not the cranky baby being passed around a table, the stage whispering toddler in the church, or the little kids running hither and yon across the reception (all of which I’ve either seen or encountered at weddings). And yes, it’s cheaper to not invite the kids.

I’m so glad this never came up at my wedding. For one thing, we didn’t have anything huge, so it wasn’t an issue. As a bonus, all of the kids in my family are old enough to sit down and shut up when told to do so. But I can completely see where these couples are coming from - it’s their day after all, who are we to question it?

Robin recently made a post about how according to the fine folks over here, us childfree people are “stunted souls”. Hmm. I was unaware that the fact that I choose not to have children - and yes, having children is a choice, not a requirement in life - had any bearing on my soul. I thought that I was just being smart enough to know better than to do that to myself and any child I gave birth to.

But let’s go back to the beginning and find out exactly why I’m childfree, shall we?

Back in either 1999 or 2000, when I was still living in Warwick with Chris, my period decided to show up a record 20 days late. To be honest, after the first year or so we never really played it safe when it came to sex; he (and the other 2 guys before him) was a virgin and inexperienced when we first got together, so it was a pretty good assumption that the two of us were STD-free, and we relied on him pulling out almost exclusively as birth control. Not the smartest thing in the world I’ve ever done, eh? Up until that point where I had to sit down and tell him I was late that month, we’d never really discussed the topic of what we’d do in the event of an “accident”. I knew that he wanted kids eventually, and I was of the belief that I’d have them at some point because that’s what you did: married, settled down, had a kid or 3, etc. But there was a time during those 20 days when I was looking through my Livejournal to find out when I last mentioned having cramps or being completely PMS-bitchy when it hit me that I didn’t want to have a child. I didn’t want to have one then, and I was pretty certain that I didn’t want one ever.

It wasn’t just a matter of not being ready for a child in my early 20’s. It was the knowledge that I would probably never be able to adequately care for a child. I was working for the bank, nights, for about $10/hour, rarely saw Chris because he was working days, and ate one meal a day. We had a couple of cats and a fridge stocked full of beer, and a house messier than what Eddie and I are in right now. That wasn’t a life that I wanted to bring a child into. Sure, I know that a lot of people will say that things change when you have a kid, and that even those who may not want kids change their mind when they turn up pregnant, but there’s no guarantee that I’d change, and so rather than have kids and hope to change for the better, I made the decision not to have them. I’d rather be irresponsible in my life the way we are now than attempt to be the responsible parent, fail, and resent my kids.

It wasn’t until 2001 that I discovered that there’s a name for people who choose not to have kids - childfree. Granted, my knowledge of other childfree people at the time was limited to perhaps the worst example of the lifestyle: the CF community over on Livejournal, largely known for its drama and wank. Over time I’ve found other people with the same childfree outlook, and we all seem to have the same problem of being scorned for our choice not to have kids. We’re considered selfish, self-centered, child-hating people, and told we’re wrong.

I’m not childfree to piss you off. You, your kids, your nieces, nephews, siblings, and cousins - weighed into my decision NOT AT ALL. My choice to not have kids is not to be taken as a personal affront to your choice to have them. It’s just a choice that I made. What were your reasons for having kids? You like them? You couldn’t see your life without them? The condom broke? That’s your choice, and I respect that, and I would expect that you would respect my choice not to have them. I’m not childfree because I want to put all the children of the world into a bag and drown them in the Arctic Ocean. I don’t care if there are children in the world. I don’t care if I come across them in my daily life. I just don’t want any of my own.

I’m not childfree because I want to make it illegal for you to have children. I don’t want to sterilize you, or get you fired, or take away your welfare, or otherwise compel you to not have children. Have all you want, just don’t expect me to start popping them out. I’m not childfree because I hate people with children. Disliking whining and temper tantrums is not the sole terrain of the childfree.

I’m not childfree because my mother was a self-centered bitch, nor because my step mother was a plain old vanilla bitch, nor because I aided in the raising of my youngest siblings; I’m not rebelling against stupid parents. My mother cared a great deal about our welfare and was very involved in our lives. I didn’t raise my younger sister other than the occasional night of babysitting when I got older.

I’m not childfree because I’m extraordinarily selfish. My desire to live a life without kids is nearly identical to the desire you have to live yours with them. You are no less selfish than I am. In fact, if you ask most parents why they have children, you’ll get answers of “I want to carry on the family name,” or “We have good genes,” and “So we have someone to take care of us when we grow old.” Hmm… those seem to be some pretty selfish reasons to have a child, don’t you think? I’m selfish because I don’t like to spend money on things that I can’t use, like diapers and formula and cute little outfits from Baby Gap.

I’m not childfree because I hated my childhood, or all of my childhood friends, or all of the other people my age. I had an average childhood, wasn’t touched by an uncle,neighbor, or babysitter, and got good grades in school. I had enough friends to amuse myself, but I didn’t require that I be surrounded by them to be happy. And I’m not childfree because I can’t find someone crazy enough to fuck me. On the contrary - my husband is as childfree as I am and we fuck on a regular basis.

That brings us to this point. I was the only one in my class who didn’t have kids when I was in school recently. I’m the only one at work who doesn’t have kids. Only recently have the “when are you giving him some babies?” comments stopped when I tell people how long Eddie and I have been together. My younger sister has said that she’s unsure whether or not she’ll have any, and if she doesn’t want them then I’ll support that decision, regardless of how good a parent I think she’d be. I don’t mind kids, and I happen to think most baby toys and clothes are adorable, but that doesn’t mean that I need to have one to enjoy looking at these things. I’ll be turning 30 next year, and I expect that I’ll be getting the “biological clock” arguments soon. I should be getting my medical coverage soon, and one of the first things I’m looking into doing is getting sterilized, or at least an IUD if the doctors put up a fight. I am childfree, and quite happy to remain that way. I feel comfortable and confident in my decision, and ultimately quite fulfilled. Do you have the same confidence in your decision to raise a child?

Note: bits of this were things saved from the CF community - back when it was still a good place to be CF

If it weren’t for the fact that I’m not wearing pants and have no intention of putting some on, I’d go outside and offer the girls 2 houses away $5 to shut the fuck up already. For the last hour they’ve done nothing but shout “LEMONADE!” at the tops of their lungs, regardless of whether or not there’s anyone driving/walking past to buy it.

We’ve certainly enjoyed our rainy nasty day. I bleached my hair and will shortly be putting brown in it, and we spent an hour and half in Eddie’s man-cave watching Advent Children, which I thought rocked even though I hated Final Fantasy VII. They’ve certainly made a LOT of advances in CG animation since Spirits Within came out a few years ago, and I predict we’ll see a lot more anime switch over to CG, even if they do it like Appleseed and keep it looking like traditional animation.

Eddie cooked a roast for dinner and it turned out fabulous. Unfortunately my wisdom teeth are moving around and my jaw is in an assload of pain.

Tonight we’re watching a Monty Python marathon on the BBC channel, and then we’re going to watch SNL, and I’m really hoping that I’ll get some loving because I’ve been horny as hell all week and damn it all I want sex.

I’m quite tired today. Between the sheer unbearableness of attempting to sleep while it’s 80F outside with 86% humidity, the annoyance of having my puffy foot feeling all hypersensitive, and the fact that I really wasn’t very tired, it sucked trying to fall asleep. Eddie woke me up at 6am because I had to bring him to work, since I need the car to drive my grandmother to the doctor later this afternoon. Plus, tomorrow I’ve got to repeat the process when I need to take myself to the doctor’s (an appointment that I’m dreading). At least this afternoon I get to swim in Mom’s pool tonight.

I was dreaming last night. I was dreaming about looking for penguin pictures for Mom’s new cellphone. I was dreaming about going to the doctor’s tomorrow and having incredibly healthy results, and another dream where they were reluctant to give me the results without someone there with me and I needed to call Eddie to come and drive me home because I was just that upset about things they told me.

Driving Eddie into work today we heard a report about a woman who locked her keys in her expensive car (I wanna say it was a Lexus), with her nearly 2 year old son in there, windows closed, in hte sweltering heat. She called 911 and the operator told her to smash the window, which she refused to do. The police got there and unsuccessfully attempted to jimmy the locks and again suggested they break the windows, and again the mother refused, and proceeded to call a friend to drive her home to get a spare set of keys. While she was gone off to get the keys, paramedics saw that the kid was unresponsive and broke the windows. Thankfully she’s being charged with child endangerment. People like that don’t deserve to have them.