Childless watching children open presents

Am I a spoiled brat or do I have a point? Read on and let me know.

At Thanksgiving, we watched old home videos from the 80s, back when my niece and nephew were toddlers and my husband and my mother were both still alive. I braced myself, expecting a flood of tears, but mostly I was fascinated—and horrified–watching myself. I liked the 80s look with the big hair, big glasses and preppy vest outfits, but did I really talk like that? Do I still? Yikes.

It was hard seeing my very old father watch the younger version of himself. It was shocking to realize my parents were younger at that time than my brother and I are now. I watched my mother playing with my niece and wished that I had more time with her and that I had given her grandchildren. She loved little ones so much.

But most of the videos seemed to be of children unwrapping Christmas presents. I do not find this entertaining. I have been watching other people’s kids unwrap gifts all my life, starting with the early days when my parents, my brother and I spent Christmas Eve watching my cousins open their presents while we had to wait to open our own at home on Christmas morning after church. Sure, there would be one or two things for us, but mostly we sat and watched as they ripped the wrapping paper, tossed aside gifts they found boring, and screamed as they unwrapped the good stuff.

In later years, I have watched my friends’ children and my step-grandchildren open their presents. I find it hard to sit benevolently smiling, especially when they give nothing in return. Couldn’t they at least offer a crayoned card or a Popsicle-stick reindeer? Something cheesy from the dollar store, so they know they need to give as well as receive? Sigh. If you’re watching your own children or grandchildren unwrap the gifts you chose for them, it might be wonderful, but I’ll never know. Don’t rub it in by making me watch.

I know my brother and I were equally spoiled. Our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and godparents showered us with gifts. By the time all the packages were opened, you could barely walk through the living room for all the toys and wrapping paper. But these days, Santa is mighty stingy with me. The little girl in me feels deprived already. I don’t need to watch someone else’s kids opening one gift after another.

I know Christmas is not all about presents. It’s about the birth of Jesus. With Christmas falling on a Tuesday this year, I’ll be at church four days in a row, doing music for the regular weekend Masses and then for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I’m looking forward to it. On Christmas Eve, I will enjoy the choir’s goofy gift exchange, then go home exhausted to my quiet house, my dog, and my tiny artificial Christmas tree. All good.

I know you’re not all Christian. Maybe you don’t exchange gifts at all. In that case, you probably can’t wait for the madness to be over. Me too. I love Dec. 26. I’m a big fan of ordinary days.

So there it is. Am I a rotten person? I hesitated to post this, but here it is.

I hope this time of year is good for you, however you celebrate it. Your presence is an ongoing gift to me.

My gift to you: my post at Unleashed in Oregon on why dogs are more fun than children.

Merry Christmas, dear friends. Let us know in the comments how you’re doing.

 

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Put These Childless Books on Your Christmas List

Dear friends,

This week I offer two new books that you might want to put on your Christmas list. Both look at the challenges of not having children in a world where everyone else seems to be obsessing over their babies.

The Childfree Society Club by Jaclyn Jaeger.

I resisted this novel because I’m not part of the happily “childfree” gang. I wanted kids and feel bad about not having them, but the author, who requested that I review it here at Childless by Marriage, insisted it would be all right because one of the characters is dealing with infertility. Well, okay. Actually, there’s plenty of anguishing about the baby-or-no baby decision in this story.

It begins with two 30ish women deciding to form a club for childfree women because their other friends are so busy with their children. The club consists of five women: Samantha, an unmarried divorce lawyer; Ellie, who is married to Phillip, an older man; Sabrina, married to Raj, whose Indian parents are very upset that they have chosen not to have children; Maddie, a gay woman who never wanted kids, and Hannah, who has been trying to get pregnant for five years and would do anything to have a baby.

As the story progresses, Samantha acquires a boyfriend with a child, Phillip suddenly gets the urge to adopt a child, Sabrina and Raj are having marital problems over the baby issue, Maddie finds a new girlfriend, and Hannah gets offered donor eggs.

It’s hard to know what to say about this book. The grammar errors and clichés drove me nuts, the text was nearly all dialogue, and I had trouble keeping the characters straight, BUT I read the whole thing in two days and seriously wish there was more to read. It has kind of a Sex and The City vibe–if you add a younger gay woman to the mix. Great literature it’s not, but it is entertaining, and if you’re struggling over the parenting decision, especially if you and your partner disagree, you might want to read it. Or you might want to start your own club.

Motherhood Missed by Lois Tonkin, Jessica Kingsley Publishers, London and Philadelphia.

You definitely want to find this book in your Christmas stocking. Finally, finally, finally, someone besides me has written about the many complex ways of being childless “by circumstance,” including being childless by marriage. Tonkin is not childless herself, but she gets it. In this book, after a brilliant overview of the situation, she offers the stories of women in their 30s, 40s, and 50s who for one reason or another do not have children. You are bound to find stories you can identify with here. We have women partnered with men who already have children and don’t want more, women who had abortions when they were young and later could not get pregnant again, women for whom the fertile years simply slipped away, and so many more. They tell their stories in their own words, gently edited. This book is beautiful done. It includes a foreward by Jody Day, founder of Gateway-Women and author of her own book, Living the Life Unexpected.

If these books don’t send you, I still have copies of my own Childless by Marriage book. 🙂

Remember, books are easy to wrap and easy to mail.

I’m working my way into Christmas very slowly this year, not feeling the motivation to go nuts with cards, presents, decorations and the rest. I’m not depressed, just not feeling the need to do it all. Maybe if I had children, I’d feel differently. Or maybe I’d let them do it all. How are you doing this holiday season?

Being the childless aunt is not so bad

Well, Thanksgiving has come and gone. How did you fare?

I went to California to spend time with my dad. For Thanksgiving, I drove him to the mountains near Yosemite where my brother lives. Traveling with a 96-year-old man who can’t stand without a walker, who doesn’t see or hear well, and who tends toward the cranky side, is not easy.

And then there were the babies. But that was the good part for me. I’m well past the age when people ask when I’m going to procreate. In fact, they don’t ask much about me and my life at all. Well, Dad grills me about my finances, but that’s a whole other thing.

It was a small group. We’ve been shrinking in recent years due to death, illness, and certain people not wanting to be with certain other people. My nephew, divorced, delivered his daughter to her mother’s house and spent the afternoon caring for his ailing grandmother. I was sorry to miss the little girl; I keep hoping I can build a relationship with her, but it won’t happen if I only see her once a year.

Meanwhile, my niece’s kids, a 21-month-old former foster son she adopted and a six-month-old foster daughter she hopes to adopt, provided the entertainment.

I was enchanted by the little girl, one of the prettiest babies I have ever seen (no online pictures allowed for foster children). When I held her and she smiled at me with her little toothless mouth, when she gripped my finger with her tiny fingers, and when she sang just for the pleasure of making noise, I fell in love. I know for some of you, just seeing a baby breaks your heart, but I hope you will come to that place I have reached where you treasure the magic of holding a baby, even if it isn’t your own.

And then be glad you don’t have to deal with an almost two-year old running around grabbing at things, throwing turkey, rubbing mashed potatoes in his hair, torturing the dog, screaming, falling, and screaming again. In perpetual motion, he’s like a wild puppy you can’t throw outside when it gets to be too much. Nothing is safe, except when he’s sleeping. He can’t help it. Everything is new and exciting, but I admire my niece for her strength and love, especially as a single mother. I don’t know if I could do that. Certainly not at this age. Could I have done it when I was young? I expected to. It just didn’t happen.

These days, I’m happy being the aunt and great-aunt. I strive to be the aunt they adore and let the parents be the exhausted ones with baby goo on their clothes and in their hair. Really, I’m okay with it now. I don’t want to take a baby home.

What I do want is grown kids and grandkids. You know, what almost everybody else has. That’s what makes me sad. I had it for a while with my late husband’s children and grandchildren. But now that he’s gone, they’re gone.

A couple years ago when I was bemoaning my childless status, a family member told me it was my own damned fault, that I had my chance. No, I didn’t.

So, how did your Thanksgiving go? How do you plan to cope with Christmas? And what do I buy a baby and a toddler for Christmas presents? I don’t suppose I can send them a copy of my latest book. 🙂

Hugs to all of you. I look forward to your comments.

 

Here comes Thanksgiving again–and pie!

Thanksgiving is almost here again. Do you dread it? Me too, probably for different reasons. I’ll be in California, taking care of my dad and driving him three hours each way to my brother’s house, where I will be surrounded by in-laws I barely know and oodles and boodles of kids. I’ll be the odd widowed sister/aunt hanging with her father while the men watch football and the women gather in the kitchen.

I’m sure you have heard about the fires blazing in California. Horrible. Whichever route I take from Oregon, I’ll be driving through smoke and devastation. I feel a little guilty for everything I still have, and I feel that I have no right to whine about anything, so I won’t. Instead, I’m going to be grateful. I urge you to do the same.

I know how hard it is being surrounded by children and their parents who don’t understand why you aren’t parents, too, who don’t get that it’s a painful subject which may be far from resolved. You’re likely to hear clueless comments about how you’re rich because you don’t have kids or how you’d better get pregnant soon because you’re not getting any younger. You may be dealing with stepchildren who don’t seem to enjoy your company.

And don’t get me started on the TV commercials with all those happy families.

I urge you to read the comment that came in recently from the woman who worries about finding a man who will understand that she can’t give them children because pregnancy makes her horribly sick. You think you’ve got troubles?

No matter what our situation, we do have things to be thankful for, such as:

  • The people we love
  • Our homes and everything in them
  • Our health, if we have it
  • Food
  • Clean water
  • Heat
  • Our beloved pets
  • Our work
  • Our hobbies
  • Books, art, music
  • God, if you believe
  • Each other
  • A chance to start fresh every morning

We don’t have everything we want. Nobody does. But think about the people of Paradise, California. They have lost their homes and their whole town. At last count, 50 people had died, some of them incinerated in their cars while they were trying to get away. In Southern California, others are going through the same thing. They have a right to mourn this Thanksgiving.

We have an obligation to help however we can and to celebrate the lives we still have. If you’re surrounded by babies, grab the nearest one and marvel at the miracle of this tiny person with her tiny toes and her toothless smile. Maybe you’ll have one of your own, maybe not, but this baby is here right now, grabbing onto your finger, snuggling against your chest. Enjoy.

I know. Easier to say than to do. If you need to take a time out, do it. Run away to nature, take a walk around the neighborhood, or excuse yourself for an emergency shopping trip. Don’t we always need more wine? Then take a deep breath, count the hours till it’s over, go back in, and pet the nearest dog.

And if you happen to be alone, put on your favorite clothes, treat yourself to a good meal, watch a movie, and enjoy the peace and quiet.

I am always grateful for you who read this blog. I might miss you next week while I’m in the land of no wi-fi, gorging on pumpkin pie, but I’ll be reading your comments. Can you add to the gratitude list? How about pie? I’m extremely grateful for pie.

Happy Thanksgiving.

P.S. We can do more than be grateful. We can help. Here’s some information on how to help the fire victims. 

 

 

 

 

 

You have no kids, so you’re free, right?

Forgive my absence last week. I was in San Jose with my dad. November is going to be off and on for me blogwise. I’m going back for Thanksgiving. There’s no Wi-Fi at Dad’s house (in Silicon Valley!), plus I find it hard to think beyond the next crisis. Too many people are sick and dying on both sides of the state line. When you get to my age, you see that a lot.

Which leads to today’s topic. It ties in with my last post about being childless in a work situation where most of the others have kids. You don’t have to go home to take care of your children, so you can stay late. You can work Christmas. You can go to the conference nobody else wants to go to. If you’d just get with the program and have some kids, you too could claim mom or dad privilege.

Is it the same with the family? You have no kids, so you can take care of Mom or Dad or whoever is in need? 

That sounds harsh. Last week was tough. Although my father’s legs and several other body parts barely function, he is not at the moment dying. In fact, I have come to suspect that he will not die until he wears out every single body part. At 96, he asked the eye doctor if he could pass his driving test next year with just one good eye. What?!! I do all the driving when I’m there, but he’s reserving the right to drive his own car.

We have a fierce love for each other, but he’s a prickly sort, and he hates having other people do things for him, so he is constantly criticizing and catastrophizing. He refuses offers of help. When I arrived last Monday, he was banging on his non-functioning 70-year-old gas heater with a fireplace poker. Call the repair guy, I said. No. Then the toilet started gushing water all over the floor. Call the plumber. No. I took him grocery shopping. How about some fruits and vegetables? No.

Some parents are easy, and some are not. I have to keep reminding myself that I would probably be just as cranky if I could no longer do most of the things I used to do and other people were constantly telling me how to live my life.

What does this have to do with childlessness? I’m getting there. My relationship with my father is fraught with guilt. Although Dad says he doesn’t want me to, I feel (and others in my family feel) that I should move back to San Jose and take care of him. Forget my home, my work, and my friends here. Forget this whole life that I love. I am single and have no kids to worry about, so I’m the one who is supposed to take care of Dad–like the spinsters of old who took care of their parents then died alone.

I have invited him to live with me. He won’t even consider it. He plans to live in his own house until the end.

My brother, God bless him, drives six hours every weekend to visit Dad and help as much as he can. But no one would ever ask him to give up everything to become a full-time caregiver. He has a family and an important job. His wife is not only caring for her 94-year-old mom, but is up to her ears in grandchildren, so she’s not moving in with Dad either.

Ask the one who doesn’t have kids. Right? Have you experienced this?

It’s not just me. Our Catholic pastor, one of seven siblings, moved his mom into the rectory so he could care for her because the others were like, “William can do it. He’s single and has no kids, and we’re busy.”

I keep telling my father he should have had more children, improving the odds of one living nearby and ready to help. Maybe another one would be a plumber. But Catholic or not, he and Mom stopped at two. They were done.

So there’s that. And now the holidays are upon us. The day after Halloween, one of the most child-centered holidays of all, the commercial world declared Christmas. Off we go to family gatherings where we have nothing in common to talk about and no kids to play with their kids. I’m lucky to be old enough that nobody inquires about my plans to have children, but I know many of you will be facing the questions and criticisms of loved ones who just don’t understand.

Or maybe you’ll be at work.

What do you think? Are the childless ones, especially the ones who aren’t married, expected to do the heavy lifting when a family member needs help? I look forward to your comments.

P.S. I thank you for your wonderful comments on last week’s post. They really cheered me up while I was gone.

The other kind of workplace harassment

I just completed a long, irritating online class on sexual harassment in the workplace. Our local Catholic leaders require all workers and volunteers to take these courses every year. “John has a photo of his wife in lingerie on his desk. Is this harassment? What type of harassment, is it?” I click “visual,” and they tell me what a genius I am. “Steve tells Sally she needs to loosen up and insists on giving her a back rub, even though she says she doesn’t want it. Is this harassment?” Yes? Right! Again, I’m a genius.

I’m at church only a few hours a week, mostly playing music and leading the choir. Our staff consists of four women and a priest whom we rarely see outside of Mass. I work mostly with kids and old people. I have experienced plenty of sexual harassment in past lives, but not here. Oh wait, there is that one guy who touches me all the time . . .

Preventing sexual harassment is important. God knows the Catholic Church needs to clean up its act. We have all heard too much about priests molesting little boys. And I suspect most women in all types of work have been harassed in some way by unwanted touches, comments, or suggestions that they need to cooperate if they want raises, promotions or simply to stay employed. It’s awful. I applaud the “me too” movement, but in my case they are literally preaching to the choir.

One section of the course sparked thoughts that we can apply here at Childless by Marriage. A group of men were seen as harassing a male co-worker when they started making comments about his manliness and his fertility. There’s a related kind of harassment for those of us without children.

For example:

  • Someone makes casual jokes about slow sperm, spoiled eggs, or menopause.
  • A group of women in the break room share stories about their children. When you come in, they either stop talking or ignore you.
  • A mom tells you, “You wouldn’t understand. You don’t have children.”
  • A co-worker casually asks, “When are you gonna get knocked up? You’re not getting any younger.”
  • Someone has to work overtime, and you’re elected because you don’t have to rush home to your kids (although you might have something just as important to get home for)
  • You and another man are up for a promotion, but the boss stresses that they prefer a “family man.”
  • Co-workers throw a surprise baby shower at the office. Not only do you have to attend, but you’re expected to buy a gift.

I’m sure you can come up with more examples.

Unlike sexual harassment, none of this is illegal. In most cases, people don’t realize they may be causing you pain—or that not having children doesn’t mean you don’t have something equally important going on outside of work.

Have you experienced these things or other instances of mommy-daddy harassment? Tell us about it in the comments.

 

 

Younger wives, older husbands, no babies

My husband was 15 years older than I was. My partner at work is married to a man 14 years older. She is also childless. Both of our husbands were married before, and each had three children with their first wives. They were not interested in having any more.

Show of hands. How many readers are women married to older men or men married to considerably younger women?

I thought so.

Wikipedia shows a relatively low percentage of couples with 10 years or more different, but I suspect that percentage is higher among those of us who are childless by marriage.

When I was growing up way back in the 50s and 60s, I was told that it was good for husbands to be a few years older and therefore that much wiser. Girls mature sooner, and there’s always that ticking fertility clock. My dad had five years on my mom, those years spent fighting in World War II. My first husband, a Vietnam vet, was 3 ½ years older. Not a problem, right?

The first go-round, most of us marry people about our own age. Often, we meet at school, so our partners are likely to be less than four years older or younger. And that works. We grew up in the same culture, with the same music, the same TV shows, and the same history. We may or may not agree on having children, but biology is on our side.

But then we get divorced–or maybe we missed the first round–and now we’re hooking up with people who have been married before. Maybe they had children and are looking forward to the empty nest, but we haven’t even laid our eggs yet. We have a problem much bigger than the fact that he liked Rosemary Clooney (George’s aunt and a popular singer/actress back in the 50s) and you liked the Beatles. Or Aerosmith and Imagine Dragons. Whatever.

Older men marry younger women all the time. Some do want to have children (speaking of George Clooney), but others are done. Sorry, they took that ride before, and they’re not going to do it again. So why marry a geezer? Because the good guys your own age are already married. Because they are more mature, more established in their careers and offer the security you felt (or didn’t feel) with your father. Because you’ve been hurt before and he feels safe. Because you love who you love.

If you’re the younger woman, you might be accused of being a gold digger, wanting the older man for his money and prestige. Sometimes that’s true. I loved Fred with all my heart and I honestly didn’t realize he was that much older when we started dating. But I was not unaware that he offered security, a house with lots of great things, and a chance to travel all over the world. I didn’t marry him for that, but it was there. And we had his kids. Sometimes it felt like a family when they were young. So maybe I didn’t need children of my own? Big sigh.

There are other possible issues. You’ll be at different places in your careers, and he’ll want to retire when you’re far from ready. You may end up nursing him and watching him die. But for the years that it’s good, it can be totally worth it. It was for me. And again, good mates are hard to find. Should we let the calendar dictate whom we should love?

Check out these articles. I invite you to share your thoughts and experiences on the subject of young-old partnerships.

“Famous Women Who Married Much Older Men”

“So I Married a Much Older Man”

“Things to Consider before Marrying a Much Older Man”. I disagree with some of these, but some of them are all too true.

So, what do you think? Please comment.