Andrew & I found one hiliarious book this week in NYC: Baby Not On Board A Celebration of Life without Kids.
I knew when I was younger, about the age of a zygote, I definitely did not want children. I tried to fit in with the other girls at school who had already plans for the number of children they wanted as well as names -all without the help of their yet-to-be-snagged husband. All of this pre-planning just gave me the heebie jeebies.
My mantra has always been, “If I want to hear the patter of little feet, I’ll put shoes on my cats.” Actually, I have put clothes on them, just check out 3WiseCats.
Fortunately, most of my friends believe my steadfast stance but are visibly disappointed. “Oh, you must have at least one!” I’ve been sent guilt trips via overnight mail and announcements have been made on the 6 o’clock news about how selfish I am or how completely unreasonable I’m being. Some have tried to trick this ol girl by stating, “It seems that those who are completely well-adjusted don’t want kids and those that aren’t, do!”
Sorry! ‘Won’t be fooled again!
As a stepparent (~3 years) I didn’t find the role all that rewarding or tantalizing. Moreover, we’re confident that we won’t be saddled with the 24/7 fear as parents.
Meanwhile, my latest concern is how to throw an unbaby shower. If you’re wondering what color balloons to attach to the mailbox, it’s not the color of the balloons that matter, but that they should be deflated to symbolize an empty womb.
Recently, my MIL has worn this shirt w/pride, “Let me get this straight, my grandchild is a cat.” We topped that by getting a collage frame from Target that had lasered text reading, “Grandchildren make us proud.”
Oh, and you know we filled it with our pussycats.