childlessness and holidays

Halloween When You Don’t Have Children: Trick or Treat?

Sue Fagalde Lick childlessness and holidays, feeling left out on the holidays, Halloween without children , , , ,

Parden my tardiness this week. I had a bad reaction to my Covid vaccine and was not up to posting anything here, but I feel much better now. I offer a reprise of my 2016 post, which says everything I have to say about Halloween. And no, I am not putting a costume on my dog.

It’s time for kid-centered holidays. Labor Day was no problem. But Halloween is a different story. All those kids whining about costumes and candy. All those proud parents taking pictures of their little ones dressed as pumpkins, Ninja Turtles, or whatever’s hot this year. Carving pumpkins, baking orange-frosted cupcakes, buying sugary treats to hand out at the door. It sounds exhausting.

Yesterday, I asked my hair stylist, mother of four, if she was ready for Halloween. She sighed. “Almost. I still have a few more things to do.” At that moment, I did not mind one bit that I don’t have children.

Yes, it might be fun to do Halloween with my kids. I might enjoy every minute of it. By now my children would be adults, possibly bringing their own children to my house to show their costumes to “Grandma.” I’d be posting pictures like crazy. But that’s not going to happen. Living out here in the spooky old woods, I don’t even get other people’s kids coming to the door. So I don’t have to buy candy. I still have a few of last year’s Tootsie Pops that I bought in a fit of optimism, but it’s too dark out here. If somebody knocks on the door, it might be a bear.

Remember that even if you had children, you might not see them on Halloween. My father’s children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren all lived far away, and he didn’t see them on Halloween. Mostly he just worried about trick-or-treaters smashing his plants and trashing his yard.

I could feel sorry for myself on Halloween, but I have choices, as do you. I can go to one of the many events for children and shower them with candy and compliments about their costumes or visit someone who lives in a more child-friendly neighborhood. My late mother-in-law lived in a section of town where people brought their kids by the busload. For several years, she hid in a back room while my husband and I handed out little Hershey Bars for hours. It was fun.

If you live in civilization, you can enjoy decorating your house and yard and offering tricks and treats to the neighborhood kids. Dress up, get silly. If you don’t have a kid, be a kid.

Or put on your own costume and go party with other adults. Karaoke, anyone? Pumpkin-tinis? Dancing to “The Monster Mash?”

If someone is pushing you to watch them and their kids have fun, you can go and be the fun “auntie” or “uncle.” You can also say no, stay home, turn out the porch light and watch TV. It’s okay.

What are your plans for Halloween? Are you looking forward to it or dreading it?

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

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Duck and Cover! It’s Christmastime Again

Sue Fagalde Lick Annie the dog, antlers on dogs, changing up the holiday traditions, childless at Christmas, childlessness and holidays , , , , , , , ,
Photo by Goochie Poochie Grooming on Pexels.com

Christmas is 10 days away. Yikes. Are you ready? I’ve mailed my gifts, sent my Christmas cards, and decorated the house. Now all I need to do is bake cookies and buy eggnog . . . oh wait. I don’t expect any company, so I don’t have to do that. I just have to figure out where I’ll be and with whom when I’m not singing and playing music at church.

Last Christmas, my friend Pat and I ordered a full meal from a local restaurant and spent the day together at my house. The food was so-so, but we had fun opening all the little packets and trying to figure out what everything was. Gravy? Ranch dressing? Um, some kind of vegetable? Bread pudding? No, that’s chocolate mousse. Maybe.

The day went south when my dog Annie suddenly started vomiting and couldn’t stand up. She was very ill, and I wound up driving 50 miles of mountain roads through wind and rain to the veterinary hospital in Corvallis, then sitting in my car for hours because pet owners were not allowed inside due to COVID. Not fun.

Annie spent two weeks in the hospital with Vestibular Disease, and it’s a miracle she recovered. I have asked her to please stay well this Christmas. She says she’ll try, but she’s almost 98 in people years, so no guarantees.

But back to my Christmas plans. Pat has moved to California to be near her kids. So many of my friends have done the same thing, so they won’t be alone in their old age. It makes sense. But I have no kids to move close to. If they can, my friends who are parents will spend the holidays with their children and grandchildren. Those of us without offspring can’t do that, but we do have many other choices: Celebrate with friends. Go to a restaurant. Stay home and binge-watch your favorite show. Go for a hike. Climb a mountain. Stay in bed. Do a 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle.

Many of you are younger than me. You may spend Christmas with your parents and your siblings. And their kids. I remember those days. When I was married to my first husband, we had to visit my parents, his parents, his sister’s in-laws, and my aunt and uncle, all in the two days of Christmas Eve and Christmas. Wherever we went, we got scolded for being late. And yes, we had to watch other people’s kids open their presents while their parents asked us when we were going to start our own family. It was crazy. But I did get a lot of presents.

It’s 2021. COVID is still here. People are gathering again but cautiously, hoping their vaccine shots will protect them. My suggestions for Christmas are the same as they are for every year. If it’s going to be horrible, don’t do the usual things, or at least be honest about why they make you feel bad. No sulking in silence. Especially be honest with your partner, who may be the reason you’re the only one without children. Try to enjoy the good parts, the hugs, food, decorations, music, and love. Many of us have been apart too long during this pandemic, so rejoice if you can be together.

Here’s a thought. I know a childless woman who takes her little dog everywhere. If it will make you feel better—and if your dog is reasonably well-behaved—take the dog. The dog will be a diversion. When things get tense, take your puppy for a walk.

Christmas is an important day for Christians celebrating the birth of Jesus, but if that’s not your jam, do whatever you want. It will all be over on Dec. 26. You can be grateful that you won’t have to listen to a child’s annoying new game that dings or sings or quacks incessantly.

At some point between Christmas Eve and Dec. 26, I will probably cry because Christmas is not what it used to be when my husband and parents were alive, and it’s not what it could be if I had children and grandchildren. It’s okay to grieve our losses. If you need to weep, let the tears fall. Then move on. Find the Christmas fudge and enjoy every bite.

Your presence here is a gift to me. Please share how you’re doing this Christmas, if you do Christmas. Tell us about the good parts and the parts that make you crazy. You have a sympathetic audience here.  

Big holiday hug,

Sue

*******************

The Nomo Crones aka childless elderwomen are having another Zoom chat on Dec. 21. The topic is “Spiritual Malnutrition.” I’m not on the panel this time to make room for some new members, but I’ll be listening and commenting in the chat. I guarantee a good time. For information and what time it’s happening where you live, click bit.ly/gw-solstice.

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Do some people just not ‘do’ children?

Sue Fagalde Lick childlessness and holidays, feeling left out on the holidays , , , ,
Thanksgiving had barely started when my sister-in-law told her grandchildren, “Don’t bother Aunt Sue. She doesn’t do kids.”
What?
I couldn’t let that ride, especially when I really wanted to get to know my great-niece and nephew better. I responded, “Just because I don’t have any of my own doesn’t mean I don’t like them.”
No reply.
But as much as I hate to admit it, she might be right. The little ones, ages 1 and 2, are a handful. Add four dogs, one of them a tiny pup that got attacked by one of the bigger dogs early on, and my late father’s gaping absence, and things were a little hectic.
While I was there for Thanksgiving, I had a project: going through boxes of photos and memorabilia taken from my father’s house. Try doing that when a two-year-old thinks it’s fun to grab papers and rip them up. I was not amused when he tore a notebook with some of my grandfather’s writing. Or when he insisted I pick him up and kept launching himself at my back. It reminded me of the overgrown puppy my husband and I kept for only a few weeks before we took him back to the animal shelter. Too much energy! When I discovered the boy had a cold, I was even less appreciative. Dang it, I don’t want to get sick.
With the dogs, however, I felt comfortable. I could talk to them, pet them, hug them, slip them snacks, and take them out for walks. Even when I discovered one of them sleeping in my bed because that’s where she usually sleeps, and even though I knew her long fur would stir up my allergies, I was fine with it.
But the children. That was like trying to jump into a conversation in a language for which I only know a few words. I winced every time I heard something crash, begged off the third time the boy tried to climb on me because I have a bad back, and did not even think to offer to change a diaper or give them food. I’m not sure I know how.
I got scolded when I got my grandfather’s accordion out of the case, just to see what it looked like and maybe figure out how to play a few notes. “We have sleeping babies!” Oh yeah,  naptime. Now that everyone’s awake, I don’t know why the grownups still don’t want to hear me figure out “La Tarantella” on the old accordion that has been sitting in my dad’s closet for at least 25 years.
Maybe some of you have lots of experience with children, but I just don’t. I was terrible at babysitting, which I only did for a little bit. When my brother was a baby, I was too, and I have not had much to do with my stepchildren or their children. I never worked hands-on with kids—singing at them doesn’t count. I wanted to be a mother, and I think I could have learned to be a very good one, but all these years after I was fertile, maybe my sister-in-law is right; Aunt Sue doesn’t do kids. She does dogs. Parallel universes.
Why do I feel so guilty about it?
Eventually my niece took her kids home. My sister-in-law’s brother took their elderly mom home, and it felt like midnight when it was not even prime time yet. Holidays get my time clock all messed up. But the food was good, and we got to hang out together for a while. I’m sure my headache will fade eventually.
In the stacks of photos, I found a woman who apparently was my paternal grandmother’s aunt, whose name was Aunt Sue, and boy, she was ugly. I wonder if she had any children.
Who will spend Thanksgiving figuring out what to do with my old photos when I die?
I can’t worry about that today, but I am inspired to make sure my pictures have names on them. We have bags of photos of people whom we can’t identify. The last person who might have known who they were is gone. We’ll probably end up throwing them away. Label your photos, my friends.
How was your Thanksgiving? Please share. You are welcome to be as ungrateful as you want in the comments.

Childless Halloween: Trick or Treat?

Sue Fagalde Lick Childless holidays, childlessness and holidays, Halloween without children , , , ,

37738124 - halloween still life with pumpkins and halloween holiday text
Copyright: alexraths / 123RF Stock Photo

It’s time for kid-centered holidays. Labor Day was no problem. But Halloween is a different story. All those kids whining about costumes and candy. All those proud parents taking pictures of their little ones dressed as pumpkins, Ninja Turtles, or whatever’s hot this year. Carving pumpkins, baking orange-frosted cupcakes, buying sugary treats to hand out at the door. It sounds exhausting.

Yesterday, I asked my hair stylist, mother of four, if she was ready for Halloween. She sighed. “Almost. I still have a few more things to do.” At that moment, I did not mind one bit that I don’t have children. Christmas is bad enough.

Yes, it might be fun to do Halloween with my kids. I might enjoy every minute of it. By now my children would be adults, possibly bringing their own children to my house to show their costumes to “Grandma.” I’d be posting pictures like crazy. But that’s not going to happen. Living out here in the spooky old woods, I don’t even get other people’s kids coming to the door. So I don’t have to buy candy. I still have a few of last year’s Tootsie Pops that I bought in a fit of optimism, but it’s too dark out here. If somebody knocks on the door, it might be a bear.

Remember that even if you had children, you might not see them on Halloween. My father’s children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren all live far away, and he won’t see them on Halloween. Mostly he just worries about trick-or-treaters smashing his plants and trashing his yard.

I could feel sorry for myself on Halloween, but I have choices, as do you. I can go to one of the many events for children and shower them with candy and compliments about their costumes or visit someone who lives in a more child-friendly neighborhood. My late mother-in-law lived in a section of town where people brought their kids by the busload. For several years, she hid in a back room while Fred and I handed out little Hershey Bars for hours. It was fun.

If you live in civilization, you can enjoy decorating your house and yard and offering tricks and treats to the neighborhood kids. Dress up, get silly. If you don’t have a kid, be a kid.

Or put on your own costume and go party with other adults. Karaoke, anyone? Pumpkin-tinis? Dancing to “The Monster Mash?”

If someone is pushing you to watch them and their kids have fun, you can go and be the fun “auntie” or “uncle.” You can also say no, stay home, turn out the porch light and watch “Dancing with the Stars.” It’s okay.

What are your plans for Halloween? Are you looking forward to it or dreading it?

Beyond Childlessness: Counting My Blessings

Sue Fagalde Lick childlessness, childlessness and holidays, effects of childlessness in old age, Mother's Day, Mother's Day misery , , , , , , , , ,

It’s my birthday! Rahhhhh! Birthdays are often problematic for me. I whine about the gifts I don’t receive and the people who aren’t around, but this time I’m just feeling grateful. My friends, I have a good life. As I prayed a summing-up-the-year prayer last night, I didn’t even think about not having children. It’s true. I didn’t. I thought about all the great things I do have. My days are full of writing, music, books, dogs, great food, beautiful scenery, family and good friends who feel like family. I have had 64 years of good health. That could change in a heartbeat, but I am grateful. Yes, I miss my husband, and sometimes I wish I had more money, but at this moment, I know I am blessed.

I am grateful for you, too, for this sister and brotherhood of childless people that has formed here and taken a life far beyond my Childless by Marriage book. We can comfort each other, help each other to make the decisions we need to make, and encourage each other in our lives that may not have children but they do and will have many other wonderful things. Trust me. There will be tears, there will be regrets. But there will also be laughter and joy.

No, I haven’t started drinking already. It’s still very early here in Oregon. In a little while, I have to go into a difficult meeting at work, and it may be hard to hang on to a positive attitude. But I’m determined to do my best.

I found a podcast online that I think you will find interesting:

You can listen to a discussion about the choice  of whether or not to have children and an interview with psychotherapist Jeanne Safer, author of Beyond Motherhood: Choosing a Life Without Children at http://iowapublicradio.org/post/childless-choice#stream/0

Also, do you know I have another blog called Unleashed in Oregon? Check out this week’s post, “Lawnmower One, Widow Lady Zero.” It might give you a smile.

Next week I’ll be in Tucson on a combination work/pleasure trip, so we will have a guest post that I know you’re going to love.

Your comments are always welcome.

Fourth of July brings out the baby blues

Sue Fagalde Lick childlessness and holidays, Fourth of July, jealous of baby bumps, Waldport Oregon, watching others with children, Yachats Oregon

It was Fourth of July. Everyone seemed to be gathered in family groups, and there I was with my dog Annie. My friends I had planned to spend the day with had suddenly gotten busy with visiting children and grandchildren, so I headed to Yachats, a small town to the south where the 1960s continue unchanged. They were having a street fair. After walking around a little bit, Annie and I settled in one of the plastic chairs near the stage where a group was performing music that seemed to be a blend of reggae, New Age and yoga chants. Annie leaned against my legs, nervous in the crowd, a little worried about the tie-die-garbed woman doing a hula hoop dance a few feet away, the lady doing henna tattoos under the canopy next to the stage, and the tiny human who kept asking if she could pet my doggie. Sure, I said and watched her pat Annie’s broad tan back.

Next to me, the little girl’s mom exposed her baby bump between her midriff top and long skirt. She had flowers henna-tattooed around and below her navel. I will not let this bother me, I told myself. I sang along with the music, I pet my dog, I stared at the blue sky and green trees rising up behind the stage. The temperature was perfect, we had nowhere else to go, nothing else to do. But there were kids and moms and dads everywhere.

The night before, watching fireworks in Waldport, I was surrounded by couples with children, little ones and big ones. I felt like I didn’t fit in. And here, watching barefoot young women in flowing dresses dance with their children, I had to wonder how I missed out on something so natural and normal. Men and women come together and make babies. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to go? Didn’t I want that? Where did I lose my way? If I had stayed with my first husband, wouldn’t we eventually have had children? Maybe I should have married someone else. But I was 22. I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know this could happen to me.

Annie was getting hot and restless. I was getting sad. “Come on,” I said, and we went home to our big house and big yard with no children and no mothers.

Sorry. I’m feeling down today. You know how that goes. I hate holidays. They bring out the blues. Don’t you find that’s true? How was Fourth of July for you?

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Starting Sunday afternoon, I’m going to be offline most of the time for a week or so. If I don’t get to your comments or post something new, please be patient. I will seek out wi-fi as often as I can. Have a great week.

Find the light in this holiday season

Sue Fagalde Lick childlessness and holidays, finding happiness at Christmas in spite of grief

My dear friends,

It’s almost Christmas. I know this is a tough time for people who are grieving the loss of the children they might have had. We also miss those who have passed away. I know I would give anything for another hug from my husband or to hear my mother laugh again. But we have to accept things as they are right now, today.

Look around you and see all the good things you do have: your health, your home, the wonderful people in your life, good food, and this beautiful earth on which we live. Just now, I looked out my window and saw wild birds having a party. Bright blue Stellar’s jays, brown-and-orange varied thrushes, and black-hooded Oregon juncos grazed on the lawn while a purple-breasted swallow swooped across the sky. A hint of blue showed through the clouds, and my Sitka spruce stood tall and strong despite decades of harsh wind, rain and frost. The winter solstice has passed, and we will be getting more daylight every day. There is much to be grateful for.

Yes, we are surrounded by people who have children when we don’t. It’s easy to resent them. Don’t. Love them, and love their children. Be glad they are here. If you are meant to be a parent, you will, but meanwhile, don’t blind yourself to everything good in this season of light and joy.

Merry Christmas and may God bless you all.
Hugs,
Sue