hit me baby one more time

I'm decidely not old enough to make any permanent decisions that will affect me for the rest of my life. This is why I have no tattoos. But this is not the reason I don't have children.

I just want to make the outright statement that my reason for not wanting children is not because I'm "not ready". I say that sometimes, I've even said it in this blog, but it's a short answer that somehow seems easier than truly explaining why I choose to be child-free.

I'm not even close to the end of my child-bearing years, I have a comfortable 15 more years to begin the journey of parenting, if that's what I chose to do. I'm not so naive that I would make a blanket statement of "never having kids". Life changes.

But I'm a bit offended by the "not ready" remarks, which admittedly are probably fueled by my own quick response, because I believe it is creating an absolute in which all women are called to be mothers and those of us who aren't are somehow not up to the responsiblity or not ready to give up our young freedoms. It is because I am comfortable with who I am and still deciding how I'll make my mark on this world that I have no need or desire to bring another human into the picture that is my life. Not to mention kids are the worst. Just the worst.

B and I occasionally discuss the "when we have kids" scenerio but that conversation usually ends with "ugh, kids are the worst." I know I wrote this post about how I didn't want to have kids because I was scared of gender socialization, but the longer I am not a parent, the happier I am as a non-parent, and the more I resent comments like "oh you'll change your mind" (okay well the same could be said for your choice to birth that thing that just shot poop up its back) or "it's different when it's your own kids" (that's exactly what I don't want).

Let me disect that last thing for a second. Sunday I was at a Panera Bread eating my grilled chicken ceasar salad in peace next to a table of 9-ish year old girls after a soccer game. These two girls were talking and the one was like...telling a story? Or ... a joke? I'm not sure. She was trying to set up a scene where there were these colored doors and you had to choose a door, and what was behind each one...I dunno. It was the worst thing ever. Listening to her ramble on about what was behind the green door, I wanted to throw my apple and have it hit her right in the face. That's how annoyed I was. And the parents either had completely tuned her out (awful) or thought it was adorable (also awful). I don't want either of that. That's what parenthood is. It's dealing with a person from conception getting bigger and bigger and learning how to negotiate the world. No thank you.

I'm going to stop myself here, and leave my post about why I want more rights for non-parents for a later date (seriously, if you choose to parent, don't shove that thing in my face, thanks) because I need to get back to my very busy life of non-parenting and keeping my money for myself. There is no poop or spitup on my shirt and I don't have to teach anything to pee in a toilet. And I don't have to pay for anything to go to college. Life is good. (Go ahead, blow up the comments about how rewarding parenting is. I might experience it someday. But this is my choice.)