Notice from Redbook: This is NOT a Family

First off, Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate. I hope you did like me and ate everything in sight because this is the one day of year where it's not only acceptable - it's encouraged! This year I am thankful for many of the things you'd expect - my hubby, my health, my adorable furboys, the fact that I have a job. The list goes on. I am also thankful for you, my dear readers - for reading my rants and through your feedback, validating my feelings and making me realize that there are way too many people who share my feeling for me to be crazy. I hope my blog provides a little validation for you too.

On Wednesday, I left the office at 2:00, but before I did, I stopped by the waiting room and grabbed a magazine to read on the train. I really don't care for our office's selection of magazines - it's the usual tripe, and the women's magazines usually end up annoying me more than entertaining me, but I went against my better judgement and grabbed the November issue of Redbook to read on the way home.

In addition to finding a yummy-looking recipe for cranberry apple chutney, I learned something very interesting while reading Redbook. Hubby and me are NOT a family. Redbook is very clear about this in their article entitled What's the Right-Size Family? The tag line to the title is "Sometimes you build your family by choice, and sometimes by chance. These eight couples share the stories of how 1, 2, 6...even 12...is just the right number of children".

So against my better judgement, I tortured myself and read through the entire article just to make sure they really didn't present a couple who chose not to have children. Heck, I would have even be happy to see a presentation of a childless by circumstance couple who, in the normal feel-good Redbook fashion, overcame their circumstance and came to embrace their life as-is.

Ah, but alas, this was all just fantasy on my part. As would be expected from such a typical rag, the usual assumptions were made: first, that all couples have or want children - that it's not a matter of whether a couple will have kids but how many. Second, that a couple who does not have children is not a family and of course, the underlying sub-message to that - that if you desire to live and create a family lifestyle for yourself, you'll need to pop out at least one kid.

I got to read heartwarming stories of blissful families like Jody and Chad who have come to terms with the fact that they will only have one child together (Chad already has a brood from a previous marriage and had a vasectomy before meeting Jody). Of course, it never occurs to them to adopt, but that's another issue. And then we have Aly and Jay who started with one but ended up with five and talk about how "awesome" it is to have this many kids, even though, Aly admits, there are days when she doesn't sit down for 12 hours straight. Lisa Renee and Russell opted to have 2 (and no more) because having 2 is manageable enough to allow them to "put their marriage first", for example taking 3 trips per year by themselves (yeah, we childfree couples know all about putting marriages first, if anyone's interested).

Then we get to the "faithful" family of Kate and Ray who allow God to determine how many kids they have. No surprise, they're up to 12. While saying it can be difficult, they mostly stress how blessed they feel and how the local business just love to see their van pull into their parking lots (can you imagine the carbon footprint of this family?)

The article goes on to feature 4 more families: one with a big age gap between their 2 kids, one who opted for just 1 child, another one with a big brood. Some of them (like the only-child couple and the couple with 6 children) describe the judgements they suffer from others who think their choice of number of children is wrong. Ha! They haven't seen anything. Try stating aloud that you have chosen not to have kids and then you can talk about judgements.

I guess what irritates me the most about this article is the title itself and the one obvious missing answer: What's the Right-Size Family?" The question begs for at least ONE of the answers to be "2 - just the couple" and yet, despite the fact that 7 - 10% of all couples opt to be childfree and very much consider themselves a family, not a single sentence in this article mentions this option as an answer to the question it presents.

I don't know about you, but I consider hubby and me (with or without our furry boys) a family. I always have. Hubby is my family. He's more family to me than my parents and siblings. He is the person who loves and understands me the most. He is the person I have built a life with - who I share and run a household with, who I go through all of life's joys, trials and tribulations with. We grow and develop together and make each other better people. If that isn't a family, I don't know what is. Frankly, I am sick and tired of being marginalized and treated as though we do not exist when the truth is - not only do we exist, but we flourish because of our chosen lifestyle.

Rags like Redbook (and the media in general) love to expand the boundaries of what constitutes a family and for the most part, I think that's a good thing. Today, family is no longer narrowly defined as a married couple with children. We have blended families, single-parent families, even families with 2 moms or 2 dads. The idea of family has been stretched so far beyond it's original definition that almost anything will be defined and embraced as family - that is, except for childfree and childless couples. For some reason we cannot seem to earn that title. We've come a long way baby, but we haven't gotten there yet.

So what do you think? Is a couple without children a "family"? Cast your vote on my new poll.

Meeting CF Folks

Today I thought I would pose a question to all of you: how do you meet other childfree folks? I don't know about you, but my experience has been that most of the childfree people I connect with are on-line, through sites like this, or discussion boards or other places where I am not likely to meet them in person.

In "real life" I know very few people who define themselves as "childfree". I know people who don't have kids, but in some cases I think they hold that distinction by circumstance, not by any deliberate decision.

I have been very proactive in trying to foster childfree friendships. I once even ran a childfree social group through Meetup.com. While this was a great idea in principle, and Meetup.com's web site is very well organized, easy to use and attracts plenty of members, I came to discover that most people who sign up for social groups on-line are all talk and no action. They sign up in droves, but very, very few actually turn out for gatherings or make any meaningful effort at getting to know others. With over 120 members and an vast assortment of events for members to choose from, I was lucky if 3 or 4 people turned out at any given event.

This surprised me. I had this idea in my mind that childfree people would not only have plenty of free time to invest in social relationships, but given their marginalized status in our baby-crazed society, would be STARVED to meet like-minded folks who could spend an evening talking about something other than diapers and school systems.

How about you? Do you have many childfree friends? Do you meet many childfree people? How do you do it?

Also, for our single readers who are looking for a childfree soulmate, how does one find one? (I am sure many would love your tips if you've had success in this area). I was lucky to find mine by chance, but I know it's not that easy for many.

Please share by posting a comment.

Friend, Thy Name is Narcissus

Are you up for a long story today?

Being that most of you reading this are childfree, I know I am not alone in lamenting the loss (or demotion) of good friendships once a friend has children. Many times we feel as though we've been dumped once children come into our friend's picture.

Here's my question for you today: have you ever dumped a friend after he/she had kids? I did. Here's the story.

Paula was someone I had met in 7th grade when I started at a new school. We became fast friends and were best friends through 7th, 8th and 9th grades. We were inseparable. Then in high school we split off and went separate ways for many years until we later reconnected as adults.

It's interesting to reconnect as adults with someone you were friends with as a child. You never know how it will work out - if you will still be compatible. I was confident Paula and I would still be compatible - many things about her were still the same and many things about me were the same. But there was one big thing that had changed. Paula was desperate to have a child.

I didn't think this would necessarily be a problem. I may be staunchly childfree, but I have had several successful friendships with people who have children. However, Paula's desperation to have a child was more intense than anything I had witnessed before. This was illustrated by a comment she made to me in a letter stating that if she can't have children she would "rather die". I was worried, but she soon became pregnant and all was right in her world.

What was not right was what happened to our friendship. From the time the child was born, and for a few years after that (until our friendship ended), Paula was obsessed with her child to the point that I felt invisible in our friendship. Much of our interaction took place in letters to each other. She was a prolific letter writer, and I enjoy writing too, so we would send letters back and forth, about one per week. What really started to bother me was that in Paula's lengthy letters to me, the entire 5 pages were about her child - endless details about everything from the brand of diapers she uses to the child's sleeping schedule, to the temperature of her fevers, to the evaluation of day care centers, and on and on and on - lengthy, boring tedium that nobody in their right mind would subject another person to.

Now of course, I expect that a mother will talk about her child - the child is a big and important part of her life (as it should be). What was troubling was that in all 5 pages of each letter and in our interactions in person, she talked about nothing else. Not her job. Not her husband. Not current events. Not any interests. Nothing. If that was not bad enough, she showed no genuine interest in me and the happenings in my life. It was completely a one-way friendship.

So in response to her 5-page letters about her child, I would write back, politely commenting on the things she wrote about and then updating her on what was going on in my life. In return, in her letters to me, she did not acknowledge anything I had written about my life, but instead spent another 5 pages updating me about her daughter.

Needless to say this got old after awhile.

I turned to a close friend for help and at his advice, I began to turn the faders down on our friendship. I didn't feel comfortable coming straight out and telling her, "look, I feel completely ignored in our friendship and you show interest in nothing other than your child". So I figured, I'll just quietly ease away from the friendship. I undertook a deliberate plan of action to make her tire and lose interest in me. I took longer to reply to her letters. I shortened my letters. When I did write back, I didn't spend much time acknowledging the things she had written about. I took her approach and began to talk endlessly about myself, spending little time focusing on her. I figured in time she would either get the hint, or just get bored with me (since I would not be fulfilling her need for an active audience) and drop out of the picture.

Thinking back now, I was being a coward and a weasel. I didn't want to hurt her feelings so I figured I would just try to ease myself out of the friendship. My reasoning was that since she didn't have a sincere interest in me anyway (I was just a sounding board for her to rattle on and on about herself and her child), she wouldn't really care or notice.

But it didn't work. No matter how short my letters became, how little acknowledgement I gave her in my letters, how much time lapsed between letters, or how self-absorbed my letters became, she'd write back with full gusto - her usual 5-page dissertations about her daughter. I realized she was using our letters as a writing exercise - a diary to document her life. What's worse, she was actively pursuing me for in-person get-togethers which were just as bad as the letters, only in person which was more agonizing.

I was at wit's end.

The final straw for me was when I had mentioned (in an e-mail to her) that I was really excited because I got an A in my first graduate school class and her response was, "Oh, I didn't know you were in graduate school." Well, of course I had told her I was in graduate school in one of my prior letters. This just illustrated how little interest she had in me that she did not remember such an important fact. It was clear she didn't care, because her entire commentary on my being in graduate school consisted of just that one sentence and she was off and running on another lengthy diary entry about her daughter.

I was so exasperated by this that I forwarded her e-mail to my close friend (the confidant who was trying to help me figure out how to extricate myself from her) with the comment, "CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?!!!" Well, fate must have stepped in at this point to help me out (in the form of a blessing in disguise) because somehow I did something (perhaps hit "reply" instead of "forward"?) and the e-mail went right back to Paula and she discovered I had forwarded her message to another person.

Of course, a blow-out immediately ensued and she was extremely hurt that I had betrayed her confidence. At that point, I could do nothing but be completely straightforward with her. I told her exactly how I felt - that I felt alienated from her because she seemed to be interested in nothing other than her child, and showed no genuine interest in me or the goings-on in my life.

Her reply? "Of COURSE I am interested in my child! She will always be the center of my life!" (I think she missed the point). And then, she lambasted me for telling her the honest reasons I no longer wanted to be friends with her. "You couldn't have just told me something like 'I feel we've grown apart' " - you had to be TRUTHFUL and tell me I bore you and show no interest in you!"

And that's when I stopped feeling badly because it was at this moment that she illustrated the precise reason I wanted out of the friendship. Even at this moment, when a friend was ending a long-standing friendship with her, her thoughts were only on herself, on her feelings, with no concern for her friend's unhappiness or what led her friend to want to pull away. She didn't care about my feelings or why I no longer wanted to be friends with her. She would prefer be lied to than to know how her behavior had driven away a friend.

So that was the end of that friendship.

This happened about 7 years ago and it came back to mind when I was writing my recent post about Baby Mama Facebook Drama. I realized there is a common thread between that story and this one. Some parents believe that the second they give birth, the entire world revolves around them and every detail of their lives. They believe that the life of childrearing is so scintillating and engaging and captivating to everyone that we are all hanging on the edge of our seats, salivating in anticipation of the next detail. They give a pitying nod to anyone who has any interests, endeavors and pursuits other than childrearing because none of those remotely compare to the earth-shatting importance of parenthood.

They believe this because this is what is drummed into our heads from the moment we are born - that the most important and gratifying role in life is that of parent. All roads lead to parenthood. It is the ultimate goal. It is the purpose of marriage. It is the purpose of sex. It is a love like no other. It completes you. It defines a woman and makes her "whole".

Given this thorough brainwashing, is it any wonder that parents (especially women) believe they are God the second they pop out a child? That trumpets of heaven will sound the moment they become parents? That everyone around them will bow down in worship? That we will be hanging on their every word and action? That their role as mother trumps all else?

Thankfully, there are parents who do not fall under this brainwashing spell - they are small in number, but they are out there (some of them are friends of mine). In the meantime, it can be difficult and hazardous navigating our way among all the others.

The Selfish Assumption

CFVixen sent me an interesting article on CNN.com entitled What's so Wrong with Being Selfish? The author of the article defends childfree folks against the accusations that we are selfish with this simple argument, "Yeah, we're selfish. So what?" She wants people to get over the fact that childfree folks are out having fun instead of suffering at home wiping runny noses and poopy asses. Live and let live.

I know the author means well and I generally like the article, however, I do have a bone to pick. She declares that childfree folks are selfish (a very tired stereotype), the underlying assumption being that parents are not. This is where I take issue with this article and if I have to keep arguing this point over and over like a broken record, I will. Parents are just as selfish as childfree folks. Can anyone see this besides me? Parents don't have children so they can toil, suffer and sacrifice. They choose to have kids for the joys they believe they will get out of it. Childfree folks choose to live a life sans children for the same desire to live a joyful life. We all want to be happy and joyful and we pursue the life that we believe will make us feel that way. Pursuing a happy life is not selfish, it's just the point of living. Why would someone want to pursue a life that didn't make them happy?

However, despite the fact that both childfree folks and parents live the way they do because they are in pursuit of a happy life, the two groups are judged very differently. Parents are ascribed positive traits - giving, caring and selfless, while the childfree are called selfish. And why? Because people who have kids have to trudge through a boatload of misery to obtain the joy and happiness they seek, whereas childfree folks sail effortlessly to their goals.

If pursuing a happy life is selfish, then parents are at least as selfish as childfree folks, if not more. What could be more selfish and narcissistic than bringing another child into an already overpopulated world when there are so many homeless orphans clamoring for loving homes? What could be more selfish than creating a little mini-me (instead of adopting) because you want a little replica of yourself? What could be more selfish than wanting someone who needs you, who depends on you, who looks up to you, who you can mold and shape into what you want so you can feel good about yourself? What could be more selfish than creating a human being so that you can add some meaning to your life? Or so you can live vicariously through her? What could be more selfish than bringing another consumer into a world whose resources are growing more scarce by the day?

Need I go on?

Childfree folks are always, automatically assumed to be selfish, even by people who should know better (like the childfree author of the article in question), while the parents are selfish angle almost never gets explored. Frankly, I am tired of it. So I am going to keep exploring it and exploring it even if I have to beat it like a dead horse. Yes, childfree folks live fun lives and everyone should get over it. But don't exclaim "yeah, I'm selfish - get over it" unless you also exclaim, "and you're selfish too". The truth is, we're happy living our fun childfree lives and we hope you're happy living your life of ass and nose wiping. To each his own.

And then, there's this final point: I may not be wiping noses and asses all day long, but that doesn't mean my life revolves only around myself or that it's all about me. I am a wife, a daughter, a sister, a niece, an aunt, a friend, a companion of house cats, and an employee. In each of these roles I am devoted, caring, committed and engaged and I give of myself every day. To label me selfish because I have declined to participate in one specific type of caring role - the parental role - is ludicrous. It is akin to calling someone a picky eater because they don't like Hamburger Helper, even though they eat everything else in the cupboard.

The Shape of a Mother

Here's a pro-mommy web site that has an interesting slant. It's mission is to expose the reality of mothers' bodies (i.e. stretch marks, tummy blubber, sagging boobs, overweight, etc.) so that other mommies (who are suffering with the same disfigurements) can see that said disfigurements are normal. The web site author's dream is to create a site where post-baby bodies can be celebrated and "cherished" because they've "done so much for the human race".

So how it works is that moms with stretch marks, sagging breasts, etc. send the author naked photos of themselves (and accompanying stories of the body issues they're dealing with due to having children) which are then posted on the web site so that other moms with the same disfigurements can see them and feel comforted that they are not alone in having these body issues. Sagging breasts, tummy blubber, overweight and stretch marks are normal and beautiful.

Although not meant to be, this odd little website is a reinforcement to childfreedom, graphically demonstrating two of The Top 100 Reasons Not to Have Kids (and Remain Childfree):

18. You will have the time and energy to exercise regularly and take care of your health and appearance.

30. You will be better able to retain your youthfulness and sex appeal
because your body will not be ravaged by childbearing and a crappy diet.

While not a childfree site by any means, The Shape of a Mother web site does a service to all women (mothers and non-mothers alike) by showing what pregnancy and childbirth really do to women's bodies. Honest depictions of the ravages of childbearing are hard to come by in a culture which glorifies and glamorizes pregnancy and motherhood. Turn on the television or look in any women's or celebrity magazine and these are the types of unrealistic fantasy images you will see of pregnant and post-pregnant bodies:

And then we have the reality of real women's pregnant and post-pregnant bodies - women like your friends and family members who do not have the luxury of air brushing, stylists, personal trainers, plastic surgery and dieticians:

So thank you, The Shape of a Mother, for reminding me of one of the many blessings of being childfree. You didn't mean to do it, but you just provided me with a big dose of gratefulness for the life (and body) I have chosen.

Oprah: Close, but no cigar

Did anyone catch the Oprah show today? The episode was called The Secret Lives of Moms and it consisted of a bunch of moms (including actress Cheryl Hines) spilling the beans on the "downside" of motherhood - all the dirty little secrets - the horrors, the disappointments, the messes, the upsets, the frustrations. When I stumbled upon this show while channel flipping, I thought, hmm, this might be interesting fodder for my blog. Are they actually going to come clean or is it going to be another one of these mom support sessions where all the moms (and the host) entertain each other with cute little anecdotes which amount to a big group hug and a pat on the back for being the heroines of American culture? Well, I am sorry to report it was just what I suspected it would be.

On the upside, the mothers on the show did spill the beans on the stuff that stays hush-hush and gets pushed under the rug in our reproduction-crazed culture: the loss of identity, the loss of freedom, the loss of friendships, the decline of marital relationships, the loss of a sex life, the sickening and often unbearable day-to-day tasks that mothers must endure. However, it was all said with a hearty chuckle and a yes, we all must endure this and are better people for it mentality that refuses to be shaken loose from our culture. Never once in this discussion, or any discussion on the Oprah show, is there ever any mention of the alternative choice to remain childfree. Motherhood is treated as a mandate - a part of life as required as breathing - and never as a choice. This is particularly disapppointing to me because Oprah herself is childfree by choice and leads a very fulfiling and admirable life.

Imagine how great it would be if Oprah Winfrey did a show dedicated entirely to the childfree lifestyle and interviewed couples (or even women) who have chosen not to have children. What an eye opening and enlightening episode this would be for her audience. Oprah yields tremendous power to influence and is herself a childfree woman, and yet her shows do nothing to so far as mention the alternative of living a life free of children.

As a writer on this issue, I know that a lot of people find my blog because they are searching for information on the option not to have children. More and more people are contemplating this lifestyle, and are itching for more information about what it's really like to be childfree. Those who have already made the childfree choice are yearning for acceptance and understanding in our culture. How sad that we can only find honest information and understanding on childfree blogs and websites? Despite the growing popularity of childfreedom, the mainstream media all but completely ignores the issue and it is really disheartening to me that not even Oprah Winfrey, one of the rare major celebrities who outwardly professes to be childfree by choice, is willing to break the silence on this issue and expose the truth about the childfree lifestyle.

I have decided I am going to write to the producers of the Oprah Winfrey show and suggest my idea for an episode on childfreedom. Will you do the same? Isn't it about time we get some serious, mainstream press? Isn't it time Oprah shines a spotlight on the fabulous lifestyle she herself has embraced?

Please write to the producers of the Oprah Winfrey show here. And if you'd like, please post a copy of your message as a comment to this post as well. I'll be posting mine shortly.

Oh and by the way, happy Independence Day - you know I mean that in more ways than one ;)

Twilight

One of the many myths used to promote parenthood is that having a child provides security in old age - someone to take care of you when you are too old and frail to care for yourself.
I think we all know there is no guarantee of this, as evidenced by the scores of lonely elders (who have grown children) rotting away in nursing homes, pining for visitors.

The flip side of this myth that rarely gets discussed is that many times it is the parents who end up caring for their kids well into adulthood, long after they should be gone and taking care of themselves. Just this morning, as I made way up to the train platform on my way to work, I encountered a lovely older woman who struck up a conversation with me. She asked me about the train schedule and I provided some information to her about how often the train runs. Since she seemed a little unsure of herself, I asked her if this was her first time riding the train to work. She said no, but it's been many years since she last rode it. She told me she is 65 and is just going back to work to help her grown son who lost his job and moved back in with her. She told me he is having "problems" and the way she said this led me to believe he was having mental health or substance abuse issues. I complimented her on being such a devoted mom in helping her son this way. She said with a resigned sigh, "well, that's what it is to be a mom. You just do what you have to do and make it work."

I looked into her pretty made-up eyes and I saw defeat and sadness. I could tell she did not want to be on that platform and she did not want to be heading to work. This was supposed to be the golden twilight of her life - the time to relax and reap the rewards of so many years of hard work. Instead she was all dressed up in business attire, trying to figure out train schedules. I felt sorry for her.

Sadly this type of situation is not uncommon, especially in the current economy. With the unemployment rate at record high levels and record numbers of foreclosures, more and more displaced workers are having to rely on their elderly parents for help and support.

The responsibilities of parenthood never end.

The racket

By this point, I think it's pretty clear that I hold the opinion that parenthood is a racket. But it's not just a racket in the way you are thinking. Today I am talking about the NOISE!

This may seem like a trivial issue and certainly not a primary reason not to have children but it is worth discussing. How on earth can people stand the chaos and noise that comes along with having kids?

I have a very close friend, Sara, who I've known for 22 years. She's like a sister to me. Through 16 years of our friendship she was sans children, and then in her late 30s she got married to her second husband and they decided to have kids. They have two sons - one who is soon to be 6, the other who is 2.

Sara and I get together about once every 2 weeks. Usually she comes to my house or we go out someplace together, but there is the occasional get-together that entails me visiting her at her house, like last night.

The second I step into her house, I immediately feel my stomach twisting into knots. The kids come running to me and are clearly happy to see me (they even refer to me as an "aunt") but from there, it's all downhill. The entire time I am visiting, the 6 year old is talking (i.e. yelling) at the top of his lungs and continually interrupting Sara and me as we are trying to have a conversation. He thinks that because he says, "excuse me" repeatedly, it's okay to interrupt. Sara does little to stop him - she gently encourages him to go play in the other room, but when he doesn't (and keeps interrupting us) she allows him to sit there and be a non-stop annoyance. Sara tries to have a conversation with me, but hears nothing I say. I give up trying to talk with her.

The 2 year old is in the throes of "terrible twos" and has a hair-trigger temper tantrum reflex that get set off by the tiniest of things. The entire time I am visiting, he is squirming, and fighting and yelling and being a generous nuisance.

The house is in complete disarray with toys and junk stewn everywhere. This, combined with the noise level puts me into fight-or-flight survival mode, and I get this urgent impulse to run screaming from the house. It's hard to sit there and maintain a calm exterior because inside I am churning.

Sara's house is not unique. Everyone I know who has young children lives like this. Noise, chaos, stress, power struggles, negotiating, mess, pushing, pulling, fighting. It starts the moment they wake up and it ends when they finally collapse exhausted into bed each night. How can they stand it? Is it is something that one just becomes immune to over time? It seems that way because as I sit there with my anxiety level at 10 and the violent urge to run for the hills, I look over at my friend and she doesn't seem the least bit flustered. Her face is relaxed as she dutifully jumps up and down to deal with each crisis. This is her new normal.

Sara is happy in her life (she's one of the few moms I know who sincerely seems happy in the role), so I am happy for her, but I have to say - my occasional visits to her house always impart on me a HUGE sense of relief for the life of calm I have chosen. When I got home last night and walked into my serene house, I was greeted by the gentle purr of my three furbabies. Hubby was flopped on the couch watching a movie. I had entered our oasis. All was right in the world.

Big Red F

Okay, I admit it. Over the past few months I have become a Facebook addict. I never thought it would happen because frankly, when I first heard about Facebook, I didn't understand it and didn't get the appeal. I didn't even get the appeal when I first signed up. But over time, as more and more of my old friends, neighbors, coworkers, band mates and long-lost family members began connecting and interacting with me, I finally got the appeal and now my daily visits to Facebook are not only an addiction, they are a virtual episode of This is Your Life. Very, very fun.

It's interesting being a childfree person on Facebook in a sea of cyberparents. Every day I am greeted with their updates, many of which concern their children, and here's the interesting thing - when people comment about their children, inevitably their comments are negative. For example:

"Mom's Taxi..still up and running at 1:45 am! ugh!! .... No matter how old they get, Mom is still the 1st one they call! (but I wouldnt mind being the 2nd or third once in a while EITHER!) lol"

"...is selling her encyclopedias...I have a 20 year old that thinks he knows EVERYTHING!!!"

"...poor baby G was screaming and teething all day long."

"...Is wishing everyone would stop needing me! (just for a little while).... needs an escape!!!"

Here's an observation I have often made about parenthood - and it is precisely this observation that was critical to informing my decision not to have children:

If parenthood is so wonderful, if the benefits of having children far outweigh the costs, if all the hardship is so worth it as parents like to claim, why is 80-90% of what we observe coming out of parents concerning parenthood negative?

I observe the people in my life who are parents. I watch them interact with their kids. I listen to them talk about their kids. I read their Facebook updates. I observe the effects of parenthood on them - their physical, spiritual, psychological and emotional health and what do I see? I see exhaustion. I see aggravation. I see stress. I see upset. I see financial strain. I see marital strain. What I do not see is joy, happiness and fulfilment.

A parent's typical answer to this is "yes, it is really hard, but it's so worth it. The good makes up for the bad."

Okay, so for a moment, let's take parents at their word. Let's assume the good of being a parent outweighs the bad. Here's my question. If the good makes up for the bad, and even outweighs the bad - if the cost of being a parent is lower than the rewards, shouldn't we observers see more happiness and joy from said parents than unhappiness and strain? How about a 50/50 split? Even that would be somewhat convincing that the good makes up for the bad. But that's not what I see. When I look around and observe the people in my life who are parents, what I see is primarily strain and unhappiness. I observe closely to witness this overriding joy and happiness they claim makes up for all the strain and unhappiness, but the joy and happiness I see is at most brief and fleeting - the occasional smile, laugh or look of love at a child, followed by a corresponding 12 hours of stressing and straining under the burden of them.

I do realize that the love a person feels for their child is larger than almost anything in life and there's nothing like the feeling of intense love. But at what cost do people pursue this version of love? I have an intensity of love for my husband which is greater than any love I have ever had for any person or any thing and guess what? It doesn't cost me anything. I don't have to struggle, stress and strain to enjoy our love. It flows freely and evenly and there is no cost associated with it. Parents might argue that the love one feels for a child is greater than the love one feels for a spouse. My response is that I don't want to love anyone more than my spouse. Hubby comes first in my life and always will and I like it that way. I love making him my first priority and the object of all the good, the giving, the joy and love I have to offer. I also enjoy coming first in his life too. It's a good deal all-around - a real win-win situation.

When I tell people that I am happily married, they can observe my hubby and me together and their observations will validate my claim. Try applying the same test to parenthood and what do you get?

Get to Work, You Hungover Hedonist!

If you're a childfree person and have had the pleasure of reading my Top 100 Reasons Not to Have Kids (and Remain Childfree), hopefully you've found much validation and vindication in that list. Everyone blabs on and on about why you should have kids, right? Well MY list blabs on and on about why you shouldn't have kids and why you should keep your life just as it is. Let me tell you my friends, as long as that list is, it took me all of about 30 minutes to create. One after another, the reasons to be childfree just tumbled out of me at such a speed that my fingers on the keyboard couldn't keep pace with my thoughts. I got to about number 85 before I even paused.

All of the reasons on that list are true and valid, but some are more clear cut black-and-white than others. For example number 94: "Your boss will appreciate having a reliable employee who works her full hours, calls out sick only rarely, can work overtime if needed, and take on special projects. You might even get a raise, or get promoted."

As a childfree employee, this benefit has been my direct experience many times over. My bosses have always appreciated my reliability and dedication to my job, my promptness, my energy, focus and flexibility to do what it takes to get the job done - even if that means coming in early, staying late or adjusting my schedule in other ways. My work ethic has led to several promotions over the years and now I am a boss. There is no doubt my quality as an employee is directly tied to my childfree lifestyle. Whereas my childed co-workers (and now that I am a boss, my staff) are calling out constantly - either because their kids are sick, or because they have once again caught an illness from their kid, leaving early because of this problem, that crisis, this doctor's appointment, that phone call from the child's school, flitting around the office with stacks of baby pictures wasting everyone's time with boring, long-winded baby stories, I am steadfastly stationed at my desk, taking care of business and getting the job done. While the moms in the office are taking 3 months off for maternity leave, leaving everyone high and dry, and then returning to work (unwillingly, only because they have to) with bags under their eyes and with half the work ethic, energy, focus and attention span they had before, I am reliably here, every work day with the same consistent focus and work ethic I've always had.

Well, apparently there is a vocal mom who takes the complete opposite viewpoint about childfree employees. CF Vixen, with the comment, "You HAVE to blog on this one - this woman is insane!", forwarded me an article by a person named Carol Sarler entitled Why Bosses are Right to Distrust Women who Don't Want Children who takes the viewpoint that childfree working women are self-centered, time-wasting slugs. A warning before you read this: be prepared for your head to explode.

Among other things, this mother asserts that:

1. Women who opt not to have children are weird, cold, calculating, sad and mad.

2. Childfree women are "single-track careerists" who lack "an essential humanity" and accordingly are refused jobs and denied promotions.

3. Mothers are great workers who bring something extra to the job. They are so adept at multi-tasking from all those superhuman feats they accomplish at home, like cooking, dressing and caring for their kids, this makes them extra competent, able and responsible on the job. By contrast, childfree people are staying out late at night (you know, leading that hedonistic, partying lifestyle we are all known to lead) and coming into work late with hangovers.

4. Working mothers who miss time from work RARELY fail to make up the time.

5. While childfree women employees are busy "competing for the attentions of the male executives", conducting office "bitch-fests" and hanging around the office wasting time, the tireless and saintly worker bee mothers are busy doing actual work so that they can keep shoes on their poor children's feet (as opposed to the selfish childfree women who only have to worry about putting shoes on their own feet).

6. Working moms - simply by nature of being mothers - are (here we go again) selfless, compassionate, generous, committed, loyal and hard workers (implying, of course, that childfree women are not) and what employer doesn't want those traits in an employee!?

7. Children make a woman complete and women who choose not to have them should be pitied for their weirdness.

8. Hurray for the employers who have finally caught on to the truth of what wonderful workers moms are and what self-centered, lazy slogs childfree workers are!

Readers, let the comments commence.

On Looking Stylish (and Pregnant)

I don't know if this is a normal symptom of being middle aged, but I have no patience for fashion trends anymore. I find myself increasingly irritated every season by the atrocious, unflattering crap that is peddled as the latest must-have fashion. Before I go further, I want to apologize upfront because I am going to slam some popular fashions - and you may wear one or both of these (perhaps even proudly) - so don't take it personally, okay? To each his own - I am sure if you saw what occupies my closet, you'd find plenty to slam as well. Disclaimer over.

My fashion disgust started with capri pants which, my mother told me, were called pedal-pushers and clam-diggers back they first came into fashion several decades ago. Well, since we all the know the fashion industry is often short on creativity and would rather recycle the same silly things over and over again rather than be creative and invent something new, to my horror capri pants came back into style about 8-10 years ago and every spring since then they have come back again and again, filling pants racks in every store, giving women from coast to coast the look of tree stumps for legs. Capri pants are long overdue for a slow, painful death because in my estimation, they are floods, plain and simple. This is the song kids used to sing when I was in junior high to anyone whose pant legs rode even a quarter inch above their shoe laces:

The flood is over, the land is dry

Why do you wear your pants so high?

Maybe I was traumatized by this song and my hatred of capri pants is a symptom of PTSD. In any event...

When my man, Tim Gunn (of Project Runway), universally condemned capri pants as unflattering on practically every woman, I shouted HURRAY from the rooftops. Thank God I am not alone and somebody feels about them as I do! Yet, to my dismay, they just will not DIE. They still fill most of the pant racks at every store in the spring and summer and woe to the woman (i.e. me) who would like to buy a full-length pant. Happy hunting.

The latest horror show is the babydoll top (a.k.a. maternity smock) trend. It came into style last spring and I was horrified to discover just the other day that the trend has resurfaced like an unkillable cockroach, infesting 90% of the square footage dedicated to women's tops in every clothing store.

Here is my beef about the maternity top trend: why would any woman who is not pregnant, want to look pregnant? Being pregnant = being BIG and round, right? Most women do not want to look big and round, yet the babydoll/maternity top (a style which provides women with a big and round silhouette) is back with a vengeance this spring, which tells me the trend must be selling pretty well. This despite the fact that I have yet to see a woman (aside from 6 feet tall, 100 pound runway models) who don't look about 20 pounds heavier in this style of top. I have been utterly perplexed by the ongoing popularity of this trend.

That is until I put my Childfreedom thinking cap on (the one with the little propellers) and thought about this a little more deeply. Could there be a psychological explanation for this seemingly inexplicable consumer behavior? Perhaps there exists a subconscious desire in most women to be pregnant and this fuels their desire for the babydoll/maternity top. Where would such a subconsious desire come from? Well, let's see: pregnant women are fawned over, celebrated, told they are radiant, beautiful, glowing, miraculous and showered with gifts. All the popular celebrity and women's magazines are chock full of photo spreads of beautiful, sexy, pregnant celebrities in stylish maternity clothes. Pregnancy = beauty, virtue and accomplishment in our culture and now, even sexiness. What woman doesn't want to be beautiful, virtuous, accomplished and sexy?

You've undoubtedly heard the saying that art is an expression of culture. Well, this is my theory for today: the maternity top trend is an outward expression of the pregnancy obsession that has our culture in its death grip.

Perhaps I am overanalyzing. I do tend to do that sometimes and after all, fashion isn't generally that deep. But this theory makes a heck of a lot more sense to me than the idea that women just want to look fatter.

White Linens and Apes

Because there is simply no end to restaurant sagas, I share with you another installment.

Hubby and me were recently away on a mini-vacation and ended it with a lovely breakfast at a fancy hotel. The hotel was on a sprawling country estate and the dining room was a fancy-shmancy affair with white linen draped tablecloths, fine china and panoramic views of the countryside. (This is an actual photo of the dining room). The place just oozed old school sophistication - not a place any reasonable person would think to bring small children. However, because a major amusement park is located nearby, many hairbrained parents felt it was perfectly acceptable to take their children here for breakfast, instead of to the far more suitable local Denny's.

Upon arriving, the hostess escorted us to a table smack-dab between 2 young families, one of which had a toddler who was in the process of having a full-blown hissy fit; the other table with 3 young children who were climbing on the chairs like out-of-control apes. Realizing that this was going to make for a very unpleasant experience, I asked the hostess if she could please seat us away from the tables with small children. Well, you should have seen the look she gave me. It was a look of total incomprehension, as though I had asked her to board us onto a rocket ship in the center of the dining room and launch us into outer space. It took her about 10 seconds of looking at me blankly before she was able to comprehend my request, at which time she launched into a full-blown explanation of their seating procedures and how, in order to be fair to all the waitresses, they must seat their customers in certain sections, in the order in which the customers arrive.

I told her that is all well and good, but repeated our preference of not being seated near families with small children. I pointed to an empty table across the room that was a good distance away from the kinder-calamities and asked her if we could be seated there. After some more hemming and hawing, a consultation with the dining room manager, and making it obvious to us that we were really putting her out, she finally agreed to seat us there.

Of course it was only a matter of time before more families came into the dining room, filling the formerly-quiet tables around us. At one point during our meal, I looked around the dining room at the goings-on. One family had a child who was talking and singing at the TOP OF HER LUNGS. Not once did either parent instruct her to quiet down. She just kept on talking and singing to the annoyance of everyone except her parents.

At another nearby table with slightly older children, we watched as 2 of the children ran around their table playing tag while the oblivious parents ate their breakfast, never once even looking up from their plates to so much as visually acknowledge their ill behavior. Their third child, a boy who looked to be about 10 years old, had apparently gotten bored at the table, so he proceeded to perch himself upon one of the dining room's windowsills and played with his shoelaces, again, all within the sight of the parents and dining room staff and all without a single disciplinary comment from any of them.

Hubby and me just shook our heads and like two old farts, reminisced about our own upbringings and how in our day we would have never DREAMED of exhibiting such behavior because our parents would have immediately put a stop to it. We were well aware that there were certain behaviors that went along with dining out in restaurants and singing, playing tag and climbing on chairs and windowsills like monkeys was not among them.

This stuff may seem minor, but it truly makes us fear for our future. What is our world going to be like when the coddled products of these lazy, inconsiderate, oblivious and overly-permissive parents are running the world? The thought of this truly sends shivers of fear down our spines.

When are YOU going to have kids?

Thanks to CFVixen for forwarding me a link to the May 14th Ask Amy column in the Chicago Tribune. The entire column was dedicated to snappy comebacks to the "when are you going to have kids?" question.

What do you think of the replies to the article? What are your snappy comebacks?

Childfree Celebrity Spotlight: Kim Cattrall

Like most people, actress Kim Cattrall assumed she would have children - that's just what everyone does, right? But when she gave it some thought, she realized motherhood wasn't for her, and she's vocal about being happy with her childfree life. From an interview posted on Oprah.com:

"I always assumed that like my mother before me, one day I would have children. When I was 5, my fantasy was to have a hundred dogs and a hundred kids. In my middle to late 30s, when most of my girlfriends were married and having babies, I wasn't having any luck finding a partner. If I was going to have children, I realized I should think about doing it on my own. I was feeling both the social pressures and my own biological clock ticking. And I felt somewhat cavalier: I could raise children by myself; how hard could it be? My mother raised four kids, and mostly without a husband.

I also thought that without having children, I'd be missing something unique to being female. It's incredible that the female body has such power—the gift of giving life. I wanted to know that power and fall in "unconditional love" with a child. No one could ever describe that love to me except to say, "It'll happen to you when you see your baby in your arms."

I made inquiries through my ob-gyn about sperm banks. Four folders arrived at my house with selections of sperm donors, including each donor's eye color, SAT scores, religion, athletic abilities, and hobbies. This catalog was a smorgasbord of DNA choices. I could construct any number of possible physical combinations for my child…except for her to be the product of a union with someone I loved.

When I feel lost and can't make a decision, I just stop and get quiet. I take a time-out. I ask myself, "How does this feel? What do I want my life to be like?" I try not to listen to the shoulds or coulds, and try to get beyond expectations, peer pressure, or trying to please—and just listen. I believe all the answers are ultimately within us. When I answered those questions regarding having children, I realized that so much of the pressure I was feeling was from outside sources, and I knew I wasn't ready to take that step into motherhood.

Since then I've found other ways to fulfill my maternal instincts—when a young actress comes to me for advice about her career, or when I give a talk at a school, babysit my friends' kids, or work with children's charities or organizations. And even though I'm now married, my decision still stands.

My newest projects sometimes feel like my children. When my husband, Mark, and I wrote our book, the time, energy, and love we put into it felt very much like parenting. And when we finally dropped the book off at the publisher, it was as if we were taking our child to the first day of nursery school—we were so proud and so nervous.

Being a biological mother just isn't part of my experience this time around. However, I am a mother who continues to give birth to ideas and ways of experiencing life that challenge the norm. My foundation is me. I follow life's changes, continue with my time-outs, and remain curious about what's next."

In an interview in The Advocate, Cattrall said:

"I'm a woman of a certain age who doesn't have kids and never really settled down... I enjoy kids but not for long periods. I think they're adorable and funny and sweet, and then I have a headache."

Want to see what other celebrities are childfree by choice? Check out my list and be sure to let me know if you learn of others so I can be sure to add them!

Moms on the Dole

Since motherhood is not already valued enough in our culture, Salary.com added a "Mom Salary Wizard" to their web site, so that moms can boost their self-esteem even further and get even more positive reinforcement by seeing how much they would be paid if they received a salary. The site will even print out a paycheck for them (presumably to give to their husbands to make them appreciate them more). Thanks to my friend Matt for forwarding this to me. Give it a whirl and let me know what you think.

Hm, if moms actually got paid this much money, I might decide to change careers. (just kidding)

In all seriousness, this is ridiculous. As Matt said in his e-mail to me, "This really irritates me. Have you done a blog post about this? I'm sure you must have. It's just so ridiculous. People CHOOSE to have children, so how is this conversation even justified? It's like getting paid to mow your own lawn or pursue a hobby."

Good point, Matt. In fact, I'd like to have a salary calculator too to figure out what all my unpaid contributions to the world are worth. This blog alone must be worth big bucks, right?

Oooh, and I just noticed something interesting on this calculator. If you look closely, under the calculator, there is a little link that says "What about Dads?", so you can click that link and calculate what a dad is worth in salary. Bad news, ladies. Gender inequality in the workplace reigns supreme even in the the domestic sphere. The basic salary range for a Mom without changing any of the defaults is $68,027 - $181,273. The basic range for a Dad is $71,090 - $186,375.

Surely a man invented this calculator.

Parent Worship Further Deconstructed

I hope you don't mind, but I would like to take my previous discussion about Mother's Day a little further. This subject really knaws at me and the more I think about it, the crazier it makes me, so bear with me. I'd like to examine this "worship your parents and be eternally grateful to them" ideology a little more closely because I think it needs to be critically deconstructed a bit more.

As I touched on in the previous post, our culture (and probably most cultures) relentlessly promotes this idea that parents, by nature of bringing us into the world and taking care of us, deserve undying gratitude and honor for all eternity. They are beings to be worshipped, respected and appreciated for all they have sacrificed for us. Parenthood is the highest calling in life, the greatest role one can pursue and so on.

I've already argued that excessive gratitude to parents for caring for their kids is uncalled for, since having a child is a choice, and once you have one you must take care of it. You are simply carrying out your duties.

My argument today is that all of this excessive worship of parents is misplaced because people have children and take care of them, not for selfless, saintly, self-sacrificing reasons, but to satisfy their own selfish desires - to fulfil wishes for all sorts of self-gratifying things - receiving unconditional love, feeling needed and important, enjoying the activities of "family life", carrying on a last name, gaining acceptance into society via conformance, feeling a sense of accomplishment (since having children is equated with "having it all" and accomplishment in our culture), having a caretaker in old age, and on and on and on - the list is truly endless. People do not have children because they are selfless beings who want to struggle and sacrifice themselves for the betterment of the world or to help a needy person. They may enjoy thinking of themselves this way, but parents are not Mother Teresa. A selfless being does not reproduce and bring more people into the world when the world is already overpopulated with millions of needy, homeless children rotting away in orphanages, clamoring for homes. A selfless being does not need a genetic mini-me who reflects herself back like a mirror for the purpose of self-admiration and worship.

Perhaps I am over-analyzing here, but to me this whole parenthood = sainthood ideology is such a ridiculous and obvious sham, it makes my head spin. It is particularly irritating to me as a childfree person because so frequently the childfree get slapped with the selfish label, while parents walk around wearing a badge of sainthood for this phoney, non-existent selflessness - taking care of the little creations they made to satisfy their selfish desires.

And let's not forget the fact that our self-congratulating parents never asked for our permission to bring us into the world, and yet we are commanded to be grateful that they produced us, as if life on Earth is the best thing going. Maybe it's not - we have no way of knowing. One thing we know for sure is that every human being who is born is born with a death sentence.

The bottom line is, people have children for themselves - for everything they will get out of it and for all the ways they think parenthood will benefit them and make them happy. So putting parents on this pedestal of sainthood for the purpose of expressing undying gratitude and appreciation is simply wrong on every level.

Oprah Shines a Light

Thanks to CFVixen for forwarding me this article about a recent Oprah show in which the spotlight was focused on the harsh realities of motherhood.

Now, if only Oprah would do a show about the childfree lifestyle, we could really claim progress. Trust me - it'll never happen.

A Dad Laments: I Miss My Wife

Thanks to Wag the Dog for forwarding me this article from Parenting.com in which a dad discusses how having kids has wreaked havoc on his marriage.

The Parallel Universe

One of the oddities of being childfree, and particularly a childfree woman, is that oftentimes I feel like I am living in a parallel universe. I operate on an entirely separate plane of existence from most people. So much that I see around me does not apply to me. I turn on a morning program and they are talking about how to balance work and children. Doesn't apply to me. Or how our culture is not accomodating enough to women (in other words, mothers). Doesn't apply to me. Or how to get your husband to be a more involved dad. Doesn't apply to me. Or how to be on the lookout for teen "sexting". Doesn't apply to me.

I go to work and hear my coworkers talking about school systems, and day care centers, and discipline problems and money problems and tiredness. Can't relate.

I go onto Facebook and read updates from friends and family like "heading off to Johnnie's softball game tonight", "trying to figure out how 3 kids can generate 20 loads of laundry", "feeling blessed to be home with my new baby". Can't relate.

At the office, I stop by the waiting room to browse through a womens' magazine or two, passing over articles like "Raising Self-Confident Kids", "Healthy Lunches Kids Love", "Teaching Your Daughter to Love Her Body" and parenting advice columns. Doesn't apply to me.

Everywhere I go, I feel like my reality is unique and I wonder if anyone notices my alternate reality. Does anyone notice that I am calm and centered most of the time? That I am not running in 12 different directions? That I am well-rested? That my life is not comprised of worries upon more worries? That I am not scanning the self-help aisle of the bookstore for advice on work-life balance? That I have lots of free time? If they do notice, do they connect the dots?

Probably not because they are too consumed in their own universe where existence is a matter of simply staying afloat. When you're drowning, you're not likely to notice the lilting sailboat drifting calmly off in the distance.

There is one place that I don't feel like a universe unto myself. Here - when I read your insightful comments, when I click on your blogs, when you echo and validate my feelings, or add to my thoughts, or say that you have experienced the same thing, or feel the same way, when you declare a resounding sing it, sister. It is then that I do not feel like an anomaly. I feel like a member of the in-crowd, the popular kids, the ones who have it all - who carry a special secret.

Yes, that's exactly what childfreedom is - the world's best-kept secret. (If I have my way, not for long).

The Compliment

Today I thought I would share a story with you about my father. This is the true story of the only compliment he ever paid me. Yes, you read correctly. My father has given me the total of one compliment in the entire 40-odd years of my life to date. So that you will be better able to comprehend this, I need to describe him a little for you.

If you have seen the 1970s sitcom All in the Family and are familiar with the character of Archie Bunker, you pretty much have met my father. In his heart he is a decent person, I know he loves me, and he has some good traits, for example he can be very helpful - but his exterior is gruff - complaining, criticizing and delighting in being a bigot. He even walks like Archie Bunker. He is the type who will hover over you when you are cooking so he can point out everything you are doing incorrectly and what a mess you are making (I even nicknamed him hovercraft, which I found outrageously funny and which I could tell he thought was funny too, although he tried to act annoyed). He enjoys (and is fixated on) seeing people get punished, which I suspect may stem from being raised by an abusive German mother. He is politically and socially conservative to the extreme and sees everything in black and white. He cannot accept anyone who is different from him, is liberal or who thinks independently. A psychologist might describe him as having an authoritarian personality.

As you might imagine, he and I exist on opposite poles of reality.

My dad has never paid me a compliment, other than an occasional approving nod when eating one of my gourmet family dinners with the occasional comment of "tasty". When I made the honor roll and National Honor Society in high school, he didn't attend the award ceremony or even congratulate me. Ditto for when I got my bachelor degree and later my masters. I can't think of anything I have accomplished in life that has impressed him and if it did, he simply could not bring himself to tell me. It's not in his constitution.

Except for once - the one time he complimented me and rendered me speechless.

I had taken him shopping with me one day to help me purchase tires for my car (my dad is an expert on cars and fixing things and likes to be helpful with things like this). We went to one of those big wholesale clubs which has its own auto and tire department. After picking out the tires, we had a half hour to kill while the mechanics put the tires on the car. So we walked up and down the sterile, flourescent-lit aisles of the store.

While browsing in one of the aisles, there was suddenly a loud ruckus in the next aisle from us. A family with young children was carrying on with such ferocity that everyone in the store was gaping at them. The kids were screaming, the parents were screaming, merchandise was being knocked off store shelves. It was the typical center-of-the-universe-obnoxious-family-disturbing-the-entire-environment scenario which I have often complained about in this blog.

When the ruckus reached a fevered pitch, my father turned to me and said, "you are smart not to have children. Your mother always says you should have kids, but I think it's smart what you're doing." I blinked in disbelief. Was this a compliment from my father? He continued, "your life is so much easier because you don't have kids. If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't have had kids either." Then, realizing what he was saying to his daughter, he added, "I don't mean that I would give you and your brothers up now - I mean, I am glad you are my kids, but I'm just saying that knowing what I know now, I wouldn't do it again."

My father, "Archie" - the unlikely childfree advocate.

I don't remember how or if I responded, but I believe I was rendered speechless, since being told I am smart or anything positive by my dad is completely novel, uncharted territory.

This was several years ago. Since then, several parents have told me the same thing - that if they could do it all over again, they wouldn't have kids. I've written about many of them here and will continue to do so as I encounter more and more parents who open up to me this way. Of all the parental revelations I have received, though, my dad's will hold a special place in my heart because I know that his revelation to me was a breakthrough for him, and also for our relationship. I realized that somewhere deep inside him and to some extent, he gets me and that's a good feeling.