When someone says, “I don’t like kids,” there are instant reactions vocalized by the recipient of this statement.
- “Oh, you’ll change your mind and have [insert number] kids.”
- “Well, you were a kid once!”
- “But you do so well with mine!”
Or, you may have other but similar comments stated to you if you fall under the category of people that aren’t the biggest fans of kids. I happen to be one of them [no shock to those who know me in real life]. When I state this, I don’t truly mean the way it sounds. I don’t hate kids – because hating is not healthy or nice. I simply just don’t envision myself with any. Simple as that.
I like children for their innocence of the world. Some perspectives are simply sweeter when perceived by a child.
I highly value the importance of children and their innocence; I would never want to take that away from them. So, I engage in their ideas and excitement of fictional icons that I grew up believing. What’s the point of robbing someone of innocence when the world will take it away as the person grows up?
“Oh, you’ll change your mind and have [insert number] kids.”
Loved ones tell me this like it’s a phase in life. My mother likes to tell me that she knew a woman who said that she’d never have kids, but ended up marrying a man with six, maybe more children already from his previous marriage. Maybe I will, but my choice in not having children is more firm than the latter option.
I mention how I don’t have the intuition or excitement of envisioning my life as a mother; I praise and admire the good mothers that care for their children. My mother is one example that sacrificed so much for my family and I am always looking up to her for the unknown sacrifices she has made during my life.
I also don’t get excited whenever I see a newborn, or rush to hold the swaddled up bundle of joy. If any, I tend to pull back and admire at a distance. My sister and cousin volunteer to take care of little kids at church; they tell of the sweet kids they just want to hold the whole time. They’ll sometimes mention the ones that act up and I wasn’t even there, but the scene doesn’t appeal to me.
Most of this are viewed as negative. Personally, I get nervous and uncomfortable whenever I’m asked to hold a newborn. I know I will not drop the baby, but sometimes it feels as if I’m under more scrutiny whenever the crowd of loved ones are watching and seeing how I’ll interact with the newborn.
I also think of mothers with young ones in a store, when the mother needs to shop for the family. The mother can’t control whenever the baby just starts screaming and crying; I try to put myself in that situation.
I’d imagine I’d get flustered and embarrassed that I couldn’t calm the child back down, I’d imagine others looking in my direction with a pitied or annoyed looking face. That scenario frightens me.
I am an awkward person whenever it comes to children. I want to be able to hold a conversation with one, not speak in baby talk or do something to make the baby laugh. It makes me even more nervous, despite talking to merely a baby that won’t comprehend what I say.
I truly don’t see my mind changing to have children, but I do tell Stephen that in our married life and something does happen, I would want two children. Why two? I don’t want to have an only child – not saying that’s a bad thing for those who are! There are some things in life that are more memorable whenever it’s experienced with a sibling and I value that.
I realize some change their minds one they get baby fever and their friends and family are having children, but that is a deep and enormous decision that should not be taken lightly just because baby fever hits.
“Well, you were a kid once!”
I have indeed heard this one before. It’s said as if I could control this early stage in life and my actions. I know they are oblivious to what truly goes on in the world, and that’s okay. Whenever I hear a baby crying in a store, it affects me in more of a way than it should. Internally, I picture myself as the mother and wonders what to do in order to get the child to stop crying. The scene draws attention to people and it would just make me even more anxious of how to successfully handle the situation.
Maybe I think too critically over these things, but the shrill cries of a child — especially in a public place — causes me to panic a little bit because it’s a situation I cannot control. It’s hard to predict a young child’s actions and the chance of a scene that we are all familiar with to occur. Motherly instincts probably do kick in [I would not personally know], but the thought of it is frightening for me. Again, not putting down mothers, or the beauty of motherhood as a whole! It is just another phase of life since they do grow up.
“But you do so well with mine!”
I have probably spent maybe an hour, two hours tops with someone’s kid for the first time in months. Besides, what else would I do whenever a toddler or an older kid comes up to me holding a toy or asking a question? I play with the child or I respond back. Adults leave heavy impressions on kids. Despite me not being the best babysitter for a child, I’ll still want to leave a positive impression in a child’s mind because sometimes it carries throughout life.
Whenever I was in school, I had this huge fear to answer questions in class. It’s all about the approach the teacher has whenever responding to a student. I remember raising my hand to answer a question in middle school. It was the wrong answer [and I was a highly sensitive child; I took everything deeper to heart], the teacher said a firm, “Nope! That’s not correct.”
It’s a simple statement and I know the teacher didn’t mean for it to come out as the way I took it. It embarrassed my young self and it caused me to feel like a failure for not answering a correct question. This carried with me as I got older; even when I knew an answer to a question, I would absolutely not speak up.
I may not spend my time with kids on a daily basis, given how I am with them, I still believe in leaving a wonderful and friendly impression on them because adult interactions take root within them. A few minor or terrible experiences can cause a child to take a few steps back from interacting with adults; I would not want to be the reason behind that.
I don’t want kids; does that make someone who says that a bad person? No. It’s wrong to pressure someone into having a child if the person doesn’t desire one. What kind of personal sacrifices would be made in order to please others and have a child?
I’m sure if someone did have a child, they’d love the little one and care for the human. Not to say whenever the child gets older that the parents didn’t intend on having kids; that’s a negative reflection that makes the child feel unwanted. The child of an unplanned pregnancy is not unwanted once conceived or born. It’s just an experience that the couple didn’t expect to have.
There should be no reason to shame those who do or don’t want kids. Right? Yes, indeed.
Thank you for reading my rambling thoughts. Have a lovely Tuesday!