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Sunday, August 21, 2011

sad and feeling left out

Today, my husband, along with hundreds of other parents, is moving his son into the dorm for the upcoming school year. I am home alone. I don't get to take part in this right of passage. I don't get to participate. Oh, of course, I offer to help with getting things he needs and pick up occasional things I think he'll like or could use. But, I'm not his mother. I won't be preening and proudly helping my child into another chapter of his life. I'm not part of that club. My sister is. My husband is. His siblings are. Not me... I'm an outsider looking in, wishing that it was me. But it's not. And the saddest part is that it will never be.

Monday, August 8, 2011


Growing up, I never thought too much about having a family... I just assumed I would have kids. I did, however,conscienciously vow that I would be the kind of parent I needed but didn't have. The kind of parent so many people think they are, but could never be. I was mindful of the kind of needs a child has that are often left unmet. But I never got the chance to put my thoughts into action. It seems unjust that, instead, the precious gift of parenthood is granted to so many who are so undeserving. I'm not just talking about those monsters who physically and emotionally abuse innocent souls... though certainly, they're included. I'm talking about those selfish, shallow, inept people who, due to a lucky crap-shoot of biology, bring children into this world and have no concept of the gift they've been given. Those narcisistic bitches who breed as a status symbol, despite having no desire to actually parent; those emotionally, and sometimes physically, unavailable idiots who would rather their child "figure it out" (a positive spin on on their willful neglect) without any guidance or assistance; the "accidental" parents who believe it's their right to continue to put themselves 1st, 2nd, and 3rd.

It's a cruel twist of fate. The thoughtless, selfish, and clueless are rewarded... and they don't even realize it! But here I sit, with a full heart, a willing soul and empty arms. And I suffer through the void everyday.

Friday, August 5, 2011

no idea

Being childless in a family-centric society, there are constant reminders that you don't fit into the norm... baby changing stations, maternity/paternity leave, time off for a child's school activities, audio and video commercials, newpapers, magazines, books, websites, social media. It's all in your face. Something as seemingly benign as the memorial service for a person who recently passed away is a slap of reality that you will have no one to come to your grave, no one who'll want the sentimental trinkets, no one to follow your ancestry. And then there are the breeders - gloating about their good fortune of having such amazing spawn in one breath, complaining about the sacrifices they make and lamenting the loss of their freedom in the next. They tell you how lucky you are not to have your heart broken or expectations dashed by a child's decisions or behaviour. All the while, you silently scream that you would give all the freedom and make all the sacrifices for a chance to be a parent.

Just yesterday I ran into one of my husband's friends at the grocery. We chatted about how busy our lives are and then he says "how'd you like to have a couple kids running around, too?" I smile and change the subject, but inside I'm saying "LIKE? I'd LOVE it!" I mention it to my husband when I get home and as I repeat his friend's question, he shakes his head "no," with a face that makes it clear that he really means it, too. Of course, he has had the experience of little feet running through the house... he's a dad. I turn away from him as I say "well... that's not MY answer."

Monday, August 1, 2011

And the hits just keep on coming...

It's strange the things that can set me off: all "the cousins" from my husband's family goofing off and their grandmother taking pictures;a scrapbook my sister in law made; a comment about some stranger perhaps never marrying or having kids and having "no one to share his stories with;" a visit to a lawyer about my father-in-law's estate; or sorting through his things and doling out what will go to whom.

I have no child in the group of cousins. Scrapbooks I make will have meaning only to me, since therre will be no one to come behind me to care about the people in it, who they were or what they did. I am very much like that stranger since I have no one to share my stories with. There will be no one concerned with my estate and no one interested in the trinkets... big or small... I leave behind when I die.

It's so hard to be an observer in such an integral part of life... Especially given the fact that my husband is an active participant. It's not fair that I have to travel this path alone.