The Baby Factor
He was a "Definitely (2)." I am a "Probably not." And by "probably" I really mean "not." But choosing "definitely not" comes off as strident and no one approaches me. Ah, I am talking about the wonderful world of internet dating. I don't think that internet dating is particularly unique or all that different from "real life" dating, but it lends itself to extremes more easily. For starters, before you actually meet the person, you practically have their resume, and goals, or at least core beliefs. The dating sites ask you to list your preferences -- everything from tattoos (I hate them) and other "turn-ons" to whether or not you ever plan to have children. Which brings me to the main subject.
I don't want to have kids. I can't claim that I haven't ever thought about it or toyed with the idea. As a child growing up, I never liked playing with dolls. I didn't want to take care of my younger sister. I didn't even like babysitting, although I did like the fact that I could make a lot of money doing it. When I was in my early 20s, my then boyfriend/later fiancee/Marius (I) stated that he never wanted to have kids. Being young, his strident approach concerned me and we fought about it. I had no maternal desire, but I had heard that "sometimes it just hits you one day" and I was loathe to reject that option entirely. I needled him. Asked whether he ever thought he'd change his mind. Suggested that it could be a "dealbreaker" and suggested further that if he loved me, he would consider it. All the while I knew I pressing the issue not because I wanted children, but because I didn't want someone else making that decision for me.
When I was dating my next serious boyfriend, I felt I needed to consider the idea because we hadn't discussed the baby factor. I was head over heels in love with him and in my head, I was willing to do anything to make that relationship last; even if it meant having children. I have always been a hopeless romantic - the kind of person who believes that real, true love really does conquer all and that real life issues are really not issues with the right person. I constructed a fantasy life for the two of us where we would live happily ever after practicing law in a small town where we lived on a shady street and he coached the kids' soccer team in the fall. This life was briefly alluring, but I didn't like it as much as the fantasy life where we lived in a major metropolitan city and traveled to little bed and breakfasts on the weekend or went to see the latest art exhibit at the museum after reading the morning paper, sans anything remotely childlike. I was relieved to no end when I learned that he didn't want to have kids either so the small town, soccer coaching life was not something I needed to talk myself into.
That relationship is long over and I've dated others since him. None that I've fallen deeply in love with such that I've needed to consider the potential fantasy lives. Most of those men have not wanted children either, so it's never been a dealbreaker, just a point of mutual agreement. I knew I really didn't want kids when one man I dated mentioned he had had a vasectomy, and my emotional reaction was one of intense relief -- he meant it, he really didn't want them as much as me.
It's not that I have anything against children. I actually can quite like the little suckers. They say things that are funny from time to time. I also like being a "mentor" of sorts. I fill this role at work with younger lawyers. I like to share the "lessons" I've learned the hard way in the genuine hope that someone else can avoid the pitfalls of my past. I just don't like kids all the time. I don't like the lifestyle. I don't want to know anything about bugaboos or cribs or what preschool is likely to give a child the leg-up on their application to Harvard. I don't want to go to a soccer game or a basketball game on my free Saturday, I want to get a mani-pedi and go shopping! I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night when the child cries in need. I don't want to worry about tuition or the rising cost of textbooks. I don't want to talk to other parents about where our respective children are on the growth chart. I don't want to go to Back-to-School night or to parent-teacher conferences. I hated being a child. I have no desire to relive that experience as an adult. I think I would be a fantastic aunt/cool "family friend" who someone else's kids look forward to visiting once a year.
So you can see that I am really quite set in position on this and I am not going to change my mind. I kept hearing that would happen too, but I'm out of the hormonal zone where that allegedly happens, and am fortunately too old now for this to be a real issue unless I wanted to start reproducing tomorrow.
But, all of the above makes it impossible to date a "definitely (2)," apparently. Last week I had a very good time with an internet date who had chosen "definitely (2)" as his answer to the cryptic questions "want kids?" The child issue came up in the 11th hour, as I was leaving and we were saying our goodbyes. He said "at some point we'll need to talk about your 'probably not'," to which I responded, "well, are you really a definitely (2)?" He sadly said, "yes, I am." I knew I would never hear from him again.
It's probably better that way. It clearly is a dealbreaker for both of us. But there's no fun in agenda dating. It makes me miss high school. When we dated for fun and not for ovaries and other life goals. When the screw-up was a catch because he was hot. When everyone was looking for someone to go to the proverbial museum with on the weekend. (Then, it was probably a beach party; but same difference.)
I don't want to have kids. I can't claim that I haven't ever thought about it or toyed with the idea. As a child growing up, I never liked playing with dolls. I didn't want to take care of my younger sister. I didn't even like babysitting, although I did like the fact that I could make a lot of money doing it. When I was in my early 20s, my then boyfriend/later fiancee/Marius (I) stated that he never wanted to have kids. Being young, his strident approach concerned me and we fought about it. I had no maternal desire, but I had heard that "sometimes it just hits you one day" and I was loathe to reject that option entirely. I needled him. Asked whether he ever thought he'd change his mind. Suggested that it could be a "dealbreaker" and suggested further that if he loved me, he would consider it. All the while I knew I pressing the issue not because I wanted children, but because I didn't want someone else making that decision for me.
When I was dating my next serious boyfriend, I felt I needed to consider the idea because we hadn't discussed the baby factor. I was head over heels in love with him and in my head, I was willing to do anything to make that relationship last; even if it meant having children. I have always been a hopeless romantic - the kind of person who believes that real, true love really does conquer all and that real life issues are really not issues with the right person. I constructed a fantasy life for the two of us where we would live happily ever after practicing law in a small town where we lived on a shady street and he coached the kids' soccer team in the fall. This life was briefly alluring, but I didn't like it as much as the fantasy life where we lived in a major metropolitan city and traveled to little bed and breakfasts on the weekend or went to see the latest art exhibit at the museum after reading the morning paper, sans anything remotely childlike. I was relieved to no end when I learned that he didn't want to have kids either so the small town, soccer coaching life was not something I needed to talk myself into.
That relationship is long over and I've dated others since him. None that I've fallen deeply in love with such that I've needed to consider the potential fantasy lives. Most of those men have not wanted children either, so it's never been a dealbreaker, just a point of mutual agreement. I knew I really didn't want kids when one man I dated mentioned he had had a vasectomy, and my emotional reaction was one of intense relief -- he meant it, he really didn't want them as much as me.
It's not that I have anything against children. I actually can quite like the little suckers. They say things that are funny from time to time. I also like being a "mentor" of sorts. I fill this role at work with younger lawyers. I like to share the "lessons" I've learned the hard way in the genuine hope that someone else can avoid the pitfalls of my past. I just don't like kids all the time. I don't like the lifestyle. I don't want to know anything about bugaboos or cribs or what preschool is likely to give a child the leg-up on their application to Harvard. I don't want to go to a soccer game or a basketball game on my free Saturday, I want to get a mani-pedi and go shopping! I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night when the child cries in need. I don't want to worry about tuition or the rising cost of textbooks. I don't want to talk to other parents about where our respective children are on the growth chart. I don't want to go to Back-to-School night or to parent-teacher conferences. I hated being a child. I have no desire to relive that experience as an adult. I think I would be a fantastic aunt/cool "family friend" who someone else's kids look forward to visiting once a year.
So you can see that I am really quite set in position on this and I am not going to change my mind. I kept hearing that would happen too, but I'm out of the hormonal zone where that allegedly happens, and am fortunately too old now for this to be a real issue unless I wanted to start reproducing tomorrow.
But, all of the above makes it impossible to date a "definitely (2)," apparently. Last week I had a very good time with an internet date who had chosen "definitely (2)" as his answer to the cryptic questions "want kids?" The child issue came up in the 11th hour, as I was leaving and we were saying our goodbyes. He said "at some point we'll need to talk about your 'probably not'," to which I responded, "well, are you really a definitely (2)?" He sadly said, "yes, I am." I knew I would never hear from him again.
It's probably better that way. It clearly is a dealbreaker for both of us. But there's no fun in agenda dating. It makes me miss high school. When we dated for fun and not for ovaries and other life goals. When the screw-up was a catch because he was hot. When everyone was looking for someone to go to the proverbial museum with on the weekend. (Then, it was probably a beach party; but same difference.)
posted by LuLu at
10:07 PM
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