not kidding

During the last few weeks I’ve spent time with many of my closest friends and their kids.

There’s Avery, who begs me for gum and attention, and big sister Katie who always offers me hello and goodbye hugs—high compliments from a child with Asperger syndrome who dislikes physical contact. Tyler Jean is nine but almost my height, which surprises no one except midget me. Claire’s quiet, smiling spirit is as sweet as her china doll skin and curly black hair. Ruby, 14 months, delights in systematically removing every item from my purse and Seth, 9 months, throws big grins my way when not practicing his new skill of blowing spit bubbles.

I adore these little people. But I’m starting to think I don’t want any of my own.


For one thing, I don’t like gaining weight, vomit, whining, iCarly, crumbs, tantrums, car seats, “time outs,” or stickiness of unknown origin. I do like reading for hours, road trips, sleeping, relaxed late dinners, extra money, a clean house, setting my own schedule, and the occasional late night with my kickball team.

As a parent, I would have all of the former and none of the latter. But as beloved Aunt Jen I get the best of both worlds: plenty of opportunities to color pictures, attend dance recitals, and read picture books before returning home to Tivo and quiet and a glass of wine.


Am I being selfish? Perhaps, but no more selfish than the people who have kids because their own parents expect it, or because they’re afraid of being alone when they’re old, or because they “like babies.”

And for the first time in a long time, I’m really enjoying my life. I’m traveling less to Kansas and less in general. When I do get on a plane it often includes time with my family or with dear friends (who are a second family). My garden is growing (would you like some cucumbers? please?), a small frog named Earnest has taken up residence on my front porch, and nothing in my new house has broken yet. I can jog half of my daily two miles. Work opportunities continue to multiply. Every once in a while I win at Facebook Scrabble.

So maybe I (selfishly) just don’t want to rock the boat. But maybe I (scarily) really don’t know myself as well as I thought. For years I longed to be a wife and mom more than anything else. I’d still like to marry a great guy, and maybe I’ll change my mind when I do. But these days I’m more interested in using our combined income to visit Paris than to save for our 2.0 version to attend college.

If I can change my mind about something so big, that I thought I wanted so much, what else do I need to learn? I’m not sure, but remaining childless will give me the chance to figure it out.