Monty and I went out to dinner on Sunday night. We were seated next to a table of about eight women, some with toddlers and babies. One of the toddlers was running back and forth between our table and theirs, screaming. I recognized the song he was screaming: “Migraine in the Key of G.” When our waitress brought our food, she looked apologetically in the direction of the kid. “You guys have kids?” she asked us.
And there it was—the question that Monty and I get all the time. We aren’t fans of the kids question, though I understand why people ask it. It’s a simple getting-to-know-you question. Still, I don’t like it for two reasons. First, because when we answer and say no, the reactions vary but run along the same lines: there’s the “Oh?” accompanied with a pitying head tilt, which means, “How sad. But tell me more.” There’s the “Huh,” which comes with a nod and a squinting of the eyes, as though we’re a puzzle that needs to be figured out. And then there are the rude, probing questions about why we don’t have kids.
The second reason I don’t like the kids question is because it demands an answer—it’s not rhetorical, it’s not one you can just shrug off; it’s a pointed question. I used to answer with “No” and immediately follow that up with “But I have cats,” as if I needed to legitimize my existence. Part of that was my own insecurity, but a bigger part is the undercurrent of judgment about you if you’re a woman without children. I readily admit that as a, let’s say, imaginative person, I sometimes hear a subtext that isn’t there. And Monty is the first to call me on it when I do that. But in these instances, when that question is asked, he hears the subtext, too. He hears the undercurrent of judgment, too—towards me, not him. A man without children is still a man. A woman without children, even in 2019, is still sometimes seen as pitiful, purposeless, or just plain odd.
Then there are the assumptions about couples who don’t have children:
- We can’t understand what you’re going through when you struggle with your kids. I hear this all the time: “You’re not a mom. You wouldn’t understand.” No, I’m not a mom. But I have empathy and compassion. And though I may not feel your experience the same way you do, I’ll try. And I’ll support you in any way I can.
- We really do want kids but can’t have them—so we’re envious of those of you who do. This couldn’t be further from the truth. When Monty and I see a couple out with their kids, we never secretly wish that was us. When we see family pictures on Facebook, we don’t yearn for a family of our own. When a rogue kid at Walmart kicks a soccer ball at my face, we don’t smile indulgently and think about how much fun it would be to play soccer with our own kids.
- Because we don’t have children, we will never experience the highest form of love. This one bothers me the most. I hear moms say it all the time—“I never truly knew the meaning of love until I held my baby.” I don’t doubt that that’s true for them. I think it probably is a whole different level of love. But there are many kinds of love and many levels of love—between friends, between animals and people, and between spouses. I’ve had incredible moments of love with Monty. But I would never presume to tell someone who isn’t married that they’ll never know the true meaning of love. Every love is unique and on its own level.
Let me be clear: I admire those of you who are parents. I love seeing your pictures and hearing your stories. I love being an aunt. I love my nieces and nephews fiercely and consider it a privilege to be part of their lives. I’m constantly amazed at the strength and dedication I see in my brother and sisters as they raise their kids. If you’re that kind of parent, you have my deepest respect.
If you’re the kind of parent who goes to a restaurant and lets their child run around screaming, I’ll resist the urge to ask the waitress to notify you of the noise you can’t seem to hear. Instead, I’ll smile at you and thank my lucky stars I’m not you. And once I’ve finished writing this, when a waitress or anyone else asks me if I have kids, I will no longer explain myself, offer excuses, or ramble on about my boys. (unless you ask about them; in which case, I will tell you every detail of their lives and show you their pictures.) I’m happy and fulfilled in my roles as wife, sister, daughter, friend, and follower of Jesus. Monty feels the same in his roles. To quote Bon Jovi, “We’ve got each other, and that’s a lot for love.” And to paraphrase Jay-Z, we can tell you—honestly, happily—that we might have 99 problems, but kids aren’t one. Thank goodness.
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Comments 15
Hi there!
As a mom of 5, step-mom of 3, 1 triple-diagnosed neuro-atypical child, and a couple of other undiagnosed a-typicals, I hardly ever go out to eat. (Just imagine the bill alone!) The truly funny thing is, I never wanted to have children. I was a very misunderstood and unwanted young lady that became a foster child at the age of 14. I didn’t think I could imagine being a mom, didn’t want the burden of motherhood, but wanted to rescue other misunderstood children like me.
I started off my college career at age 19, wanting to be an Art Therapist when I grew up. I’m still working toward that goal at 45, almost 46, as well as raising the last half of our family. I am so glad God took me on a detour through motherhood. And gave me hard to understand children. And broken step-children to love and nurture. I would have been a horrible therapist, recommending children be pulled from imperfect homes, tearing down parents, tearing apart lives.
I know and understand intimately the hunger to be the perfect mother/step-mother, and the sting of failure. I used to feel so ashamed when one of my kids would act out in public. I now understand that my children’s misbehavior is not an accurate picture of my mothering abilities, even though it still hurts when I sense other people’s judging. God created me, God created my kids, and we are all a work in progress. I have wonderful gifts from God, and they know just how to make me proud, and just how to humiliate me. There is a song out there that says something about us all being a beautiful mess. It is so true.
We are all such unique creations of God. I love to hear of the different paths God has for each person, their different gifts and talents given to them by God. How He shapes each one of us, through the events of our lives. God is good.
Hey Renee great post, isn’t it interesting how we are all judged when we step out in public it’s like people are judging people and want to pidgin hole them in a certain slot. My son has 9 kids he is divorce now, but you should hear the remarks and see the stairs when they go to a restaurant, it’s crazy. Jim says if he hears the remark “do you know what causes kids” he is going to explode. One thing about being a human being on Gods earth with other humans there is never a dull moment and there is always some thing to laugh at.
You know really what business is it of any one how many kids a couple has or don’t have. If you think about it people are just too judgmental.
Have a great day😊
Grover ♥️♥️♥️
Grover–yes! Everyone needs to be labelled so that they fit into a neat category. Your friend Jim must get so sick of that comment. Society tells us that we should have two kids and if we don’t, people are confused and judgmental. But you’re right–there is never a dull moment and always something to laugh at. I love that perspective. Thank you for adding your thoughts to mine. ❤
Renee, here is a book I think you would like. It’s pretty tangential to what you wrote, but the notion of “purposelessness” reminded me of it.
https://www.npr.org/2014/02/04/268951211/a-widows-quiet-life-leaves-room-for-sex-guns-and-literature
Oh, Mary, thank you! I love book recommendations and this one looks so good. Thank you for suggesting it!
Good morning Sparrow. Interesting blog. Being the parent of 5 kids, we would always make sure the kids wer3 “under control”, when Luton the General Population. It does bug, Debbie and I when we see other parents le5 their kids, “run amok
, especially on the “Dining mode”. Couples without kids, I personally don’t “pester” them, as to why. “Live and let live”, I talk about my Dogs, in spite of of how many kids we have. So, although your blog, well thought out on your part, I cannot ge5 too much deeper on it. Kudos for you4 “guts” in writing it.The main thing with you and Monty, you d9 h@be e@ch othd4 to “have @nd to hold”.Will add another “tune” for you two, “I got you Babe”. Keep on blogging. ❤️TexGen
Thank you for your thoughts, TexGen. I like what you said–“Live and let live.” I wish more people did that. Thank you for the tune–it’s a favorite of ours. ❤
My precious Renee❣️ Always be proud of the role God has given you in life. He has given each of us a different path in life and God’s plan is perfect! Love my niece❣️
Aunt Joyce–thank you. I finally am proud of that role. And I’ m so grateful that God’s plan is indeed perfect. Love to you. ❤
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❤❤❤
Migraine in the key of G…. it’s annoying to parents whose kids are well behaved too!
Now THAT is interesting to know!😊
“Every love is unique and on its own level.” What a great way to put this truth! I have three sisters and one brother, and I love each of them differently because they are different from each other. The same goes for children, friends, and anyone else whom we may say we love. Thank the Lord that He didn’t create all of us the same!
Thank you so much for seeing and welcoming my viewpoint. I like your illustration of the way you love your brother and sisters–it’s exactly what I meant. Thank you–and amen to your last statement!