Why I Am Never Having Children

Anyone who knows me even remotely well knows that I am not a fan of children.  In the past, I've justified my dislike for them with a number of reasons:

1. they are expensive
2. they smell
3. they're noisey
4. they're needy

Recently, though, I've been giving the subject a lot of thought.  Up until last year, I had never been in a relationship that I could foresee becoming something long-term.  Hell, most of the guys I've dated have been, essentially, big drunken babies that I was forced to take care of.  I had to make sure they weren't getting into trouble or weren't hurting themselves (or anyone within arm or leg's reach).  I already felt like a mother and, to be honest, I wasn't thrilled with the responsibility.  I couldn't even begin to imagine them fathering a child, especially one that belonged to me.

But, then, I met someone who totally changed my outlook.  I could see myself spending, oh, I don't know, forever with him.  For the first time since I was a little kid, I thought of marriage as something more than a piece of a paper.  I could almost see myself wanting to start a family with him.  Because, let's face it, if you know who I'm talking about, we would have produced some pretty damn adorable offspring.  Not that I wasn't still terrified by the prospect of having a child.  But, alas, that relationship met its demise and I was left brokenhearted.

In the days of self-pity and sadness that followed, I did a lot of over analyzing.  It didn't help that, around this same time, my facebook newsfeed was blowing up with engagement and baby announcements and wedding photos.  I won't lie, I took some joy in seeing the occasional "so and so went from in a relationship to it's complicated/single" because it meant I wasn't the only one that was miserable.

I found my mind drifting back to my feelings on children.  Why didn't I want them like so many of my peers?  Why does the sight of a pregnant stomach make me cringe, rather than feel excitement for the person with it?  I just always thought I didn't have a maternal bone in my body and photos like the one below always seemed to prove it.  Can you see how terrified and awkward I look holding Karen & Jon's cutie Amy when she was just a few days old?! 

But, working at a nightclub where we regularly have shows with a teenage audience has helped me realize what my "problem" is.  It's not that I don't like children.  It's not that I'm disgusted by them.  It's that I'm scared.  In addition to being fragile little things when they're born (and, let's face it: I am exceptionally clumsy), they are real live human beings.  As a parent, you not only pass on your genetics but you raise them and influence the person they become.  Previously, I was scared thinking "hey, my parents did an amazing job with Pat and me; I don't know if I could do that."  Now, seeing hundreds of drunk, high, misbehaving, slutty teenagers at our shows I am even more terrified.

 (Above: 1 of 3 flasks we confiscated from minors at last night's White Panda show)

I know there's a bad apple in every bunch, that some parents just don't care, but seeing all these kids in one space makes me think there is no way they can all have bad parents.  Try as hard as you might to lead your children to make the right decisions, to hang out with the "right" crowd, to behave and use their brain, the ultimate decision is made by them.  No one is dumping a bottle of booze down their throat, or forcing them to make out with strangers in front of a crowd, no one is forcing them to try (or regularly use) drugs.

I now realize that I am terrified that I will try to raise a child and end up with one of the delinquents that I hate.  One of the 2 teenage girls I had to carry out of the ladies room last night because they were passed out on the floor or toilet.  One of the many girls and boys I had to point out to security because they were so drunk they couldn't stand without using their friends as a crutch or were asleep in a corner.  One of the many we confiscated flasks or water bottles filled with booze from.  One of the kids who got carted away in an ambulance.  Who had a stranger's hands down her skirt in front of 1000 people (or had his hands in her skirt).  I am horrified that those kids exist and that perfectly normal, goodhearted people with values similar to my own could have been the ones that raised them.

So, thank you to The White Panda, Mac Miller, Chris Webby and countless other acts that have performed here for making me realize that I don't hate children...I just never want them.  I will be perfectly fine with my cat and no baby.  Reesie might sometimes leave me a hairball or a little vom on the floor, might have a bit of poop caught in her fluff, but at least I don't have to worry about her going out and wreaking havoc on the world.

Testing the Waters

Several years ago, I created a blog on this very website.  It started off in a grand fashion, with posts about things near and dear to me (like the Brooklyn Bridge and John Augustus Roebling) or reviews of albums that blew me away (Lemuria's Get Better being a notable one).  Over time, it gradually became an outlet for my frustration and unhappiness.  And, let's face it, who wants to read someone else's whiny ramblings on the internet?  That's what a journal is for.  Get it off the world wide web and reserve it for a journal or a Word document where the only eyes that can see it are your own.

I grew weary of being jaded and pessimistic and, worse yet, throwing those emotions at friends and total strangers who decided to peruse my blog.  It prompted me to start a Tumblr where I would only post things that inspired me and were positive in nature.  I named that, and this blog, after a quote by Voltaire that reflected the mindset I was trying to keep: 

Life is a shipwreck 
but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats

Over the course of the last year, I've been doing a damn good job of sticking with that goal; I have kept a positive mindset and have (mostly) kept my negative thoughts or difficult circumstances from overwhelming me and determining how I present myself to the world.

However, that tumblr account has been a storm of photos and very little writing.  During the last few months, I have realized just how much I miss writing as a creative outlet.  Writing to share my love of certain subjects.  To share my thoughts on a particular band, movie, or event.  In high school and college I wrote for the student newspaper; when I "grew up" I found myself drifting farther and farther away from writing anything of real substance or length.  A blurb here, a caption there, a short observation shared via a status or twitter update.

I can't guarantee that everyone will enjoy what I choose to write about but, in the grand scheme of things, this is more for me than for any one of you.  Perhaps, though, you will find a gem in the rough in some of what I have to say.  Let's get this going!