Tick Tock Not

The other day I reconnected with a friend from High School. I went to her house in the afternoon with the agreement to come back for dinner. I entered her house a few hours later as she was preparing a meal for her three children.


“What did you do when you went home?” She asked.

“Um, took a nap,” I smiled sheepishly.

She rolled her eyes.

This morning I posted on Facebook “Cooler weather + Warm Bed = 9 hours of sleep.” One of my mom friends commented, “= Lucky.”

I have been a babysitter all my life. Children are usually drawn to me and I can always, at worst, tolerate them. Over the summer, I spent time watching my neighbor kids--Liana (10) and Aubrey (7). Given that they like to spend their days the same as I—at the pool—this was really an easy task for me. In fact, we invented a game where they would “captain” my raft and spritz me with water. We called it the Queen Game. During this time, it became clear to me that though I love kids, I have no desire to sire my own. Said another way, I have no biological clock.

This dawned on me a few weeks before I left California when I took a workshop with Alison Armstrong called Understanding Women: Unlock the Mystery. She was talking about motherhood and the biological clock and how nutty women get around 35. At age 36 a single woman with a internal timepiece goes crazy trying to find a husband before it is too late. That is not my experience.

Until the course, I felt like I “should” children. Moreover, there was something very wrong with me that I don’t, and most likely, won’t. Over the summer I confessed to someone that I didn’t think the whole kids thing was for me. Their concern was who would take care of me when I got older. I think spawning offspring based on a fear of being alone in your golden years is a one of the worst reasons to get knocked up. *

I was on the phone with a friend, “You know…I don’t think I have the any hormonal or biological desire to have babies.”

Apparently this was already evident to him, “You, hell no. You like to play with them and give them back. You are practicing to be the world’s best aunt. Besides if you think of the top three things you enjoy—Cocktailing, Smoking and the Pool—none of those scream motherhood”

True, I drink like an Irishman, swear like a sailor and tan like a homeless person.

Yet, I had to think of my parents. What if I never have children AND my sister never has children. Then we would deny them the privilege of being grandparents. After everything they have provided—and continue to provide—don’t I owe them a little bundle to spoil and send back when done?

I am starting to experience the other effects of a dwindling shelf life for reproductive eggs; yet, they are more a physical annoyance than a call to action. In speaking with my mother two weeks ago I summoned up the courage to tell her what I discovered.

Her response was, “Well some people don’t.”

I then asked her, “But what about you and Daddy?** What if you never have grand kids?”

“One should not become a parent simply to give their parents grand children.” After she said it, I saw that would also be a really bad motive to procreate.



*Even I am not that selfish.

**Yes, I call him Daddy.