Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Fast (Childfree) Meals For Busy People

Last Sunday’s San Francisco Chronicle Food and Wine section had a big feature article on “Good, fast meals for busy parents.”

Once I’d done grumbling (“Parents aren’t the only people who are busy,” and “Oh great, another mainstream publication excluding the childless and childfree”) I actually looked at the article.

A couple of the recipes were things I might actually try, but I must say, I don’t know too many kids who are going to willingly eat Pan-Seared Tofu & Kale Salad, or Sole with Cara Cara Orange, Avocado and Red Onion Salsa!

I was recently caught in the cross-fire of a couple of mom’s exchanging recipes to feed their little ones. I chimed in with my lemon chicken recipe. It’s quick, it’s healthy, and it’s really delicious.

So it got me thinking…we are all busy women and we all need to eat, and sometimes cook for someone else. So what do you like to cook? What’s your go-to recipe for fast, healthy, tasty, and edible?

I can’t now find my Lemon Chicken recipe, but it’s so easy it goes like this:

1. Take your chicken breasts, pound them, and cut into the size of tenders and soak them in lemon juice for an hour in the fridge.

2. Mix breadcrumbs (I like panko) with salt, pepper, and dried herbs, parsley and/or basil.

3. Dip your chicken into melted butter or olive oil, then into the breadcrumbs, and put them on a baking sheet.

4. Bake at 450 for about 20-25 mins.

Really easy, quick, and delish. J

Life and Friendship After “The Thing”

Please take a moment and contribute your opinion to this poll.

Last Saturday, I met Pamela (Silent Sorority) for the first time. We had lunch and talked. In fact we talked for so long and so easily that I forgot to collect my husband from the airport. No long-term harm done, thankfully.

Pamela and I talked about many things, but we didn’t talk about “the thing” – our infertility – even though that was the common tie that brought us together in the first place.

What we talked about mostly was the future. What’s next? Once you’ve come to terms with a life without children (no short or easy journey, I might add) where do you go next? Once you’ve found your tribe of women who aren’t going to bring their offsring into every conversation, and aren’t going to spring a surprise pregnancy on your friendship, what do you talk about, when you don’t want to keep talking about “the thing?”

Pamela and I batted around some new ideas. She talked about her view of our meeting in a post today, and also put together a poll. Please take a moment and add your two cents.

When you don’t want to talk about “the thing” anymore, what do you want to talk about?

Advice for “30 and Childless”

I came across this question on Yahoo Answers recently: “How rare is it to be childless at 30 years old?”

In my world, it’s not rare at all. Thinking back to when I was 30, very few of my friends had children. When I was 30, I wasn’t ready to have children, never mind the fact that I hadn’t found anyone responsible enough to have them with! So, my answer to this woman is, “Don’t worry about. Just live your life!”

And yet…

When I was 30 I had no idea that my fertility was already in decline, and I hadn’t yet seen the freefall that happens on the fertility rate chart when a woman hits 35. Given my own experience with trying to conceive in my 30’s, it makes me want to offer this woman some of my hard-earned wisdom.

But what would I tell her? Don’t wait too long? If you think you might want children someday, consider freezing your eggs now? Think about your long-term goals and priorities? Find a man and hurry up?

Blach! Of course not! When I was 30 I would have rolled my eyes at this advice, too – probably did, in fact. And who am I to tell this woman that life isn’t as straight-forward as it’s cracked up to be? Who am I to tell her she needs to hurry up and take on the responsibility of being a parent?

I was happy being childless when I was 30. I was unhappy being childless from 34 to 40, and now I’m looking at 41, I’m still childless, but you know what? I’m happy again. It’s called life and you can plan it until you’re blue in the face, but sometimes it just happens how it happens, and you find your way. So I won’t offer her any advice (especially as she didn’t ask for it) and I’ll just trust she’ll find her own way.

How about you? What would you tell this woman?

It Got Me Thinking…About Money

By Kathleen Guthrie

Wisegeek.com estimates the average family will spend $11,000 each year to raise a child from birth to high school graduation. Bankrate.com breaks out annual expenditures that include child care, a bigger car, a bigger home, plus $600 a year for education (a figure I know is laughable considering the costs of private schools in San Francisco). After taxes, not including the costs of a college education, Bankrate’s grand total is $190,528.

This is a ginormous amount of money.

$190,528 equals 19 cycling tours around Tuscany for me and my fiancé or 1,524 dinners at our favorite French bistro or 15,877 visits to the corner coffee shop for mochas and croissants.

Now I know $190,528 is not going to drop out of the heavens and into my bank account, but if I had kids, I would “find” that money. Wouldn’t you? I would work an extra job, streamline my holiday shopping list, cut back on nonessentials, become more diligent about investing. And this got me thinking about what I’m doing—or not doing—with my childfree money.

Instead of funding participation in the soccer league, I could be learning how to sail. Instead of supporting an 8th grade class trip to Washington DC over spring break, I could be planning my own off-season visit to the Smithsonian. Instead of covering room, board, tuition, and pizza, I could return to college for an advanced degree in art history or learn how to play the ukulele, make sushi, and become fluent in Italian.

Kind of fun to think about the possibilities, isn’t it?

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is learning to embrace her childfree status.

Friends in High Places, Low Places, Cold Places, and Warm Places

The worst thing about moving 400 miles to the northern part of my state is leaving all my LA friends behind. Through my husband’s job, I know three people up here, plus one good friend who is an hour’s drive away, so I’m working on making new friends.

Jose was traveling last week, so I spent much of the time alone, and frankly I was feeling a bit sorry for myself.

Then, on Monday, I received a copy of Lori’s new book in the mail. I read a couple of chapters and it made me laugh. On Tuesday I spoke of the phone with Lily, who was snowed under in Indiana. I’ve never met her, but we’ve become phone friends over the months.  Later in the week, I chatted by email to Monica and Sonja, and made plans to have coffee with Kathleen. I also finalized lunch plans with Pamela, something we’ve been trying to accomplish for months now.

I share one thing in common with all these women, and that is that we are childless, but beyond that I’ve discovered we have so much more in common and that these women have become my friends.

I know that many of us feel, or have felt, isolated in our childlessness, and that the web has enabled us to find our tribe. But beyond that commonality are the possibilities for friendships, and I encourage you to find those opportunities.

On the main members page, I’ve recently added a chat feature; the forums are always buzzing; and you can send messages to other members or say hello on their walls.  There are plenty of ways to make connections and hopefully to make some new friends.

Report in on friends you’ve made through this or other sites.

Well-Behaved Women

I’ve been going through a bit of a renaissance recently. I’ve dropped a few pounds and been exercising fairly regularly, things are going well in general, and I’ve found myself with a new shot of self-confidence.

This has resulted in my buying a pair of kick-ass red boots, chopping off my hair into a funky little bob, and adding rocket red streaks to the front. I’ve also been digging around in the back of my closet (and the Goodwill bag I recently filled) and experimenting with putting together some old favorite clothes in new ways – interesting tops over summer dresses over leggings, with the aforementioned funky boots. I’m having fun and enjoying letting the new me out in public.

After seeing the Expressing Motherhood show, it occurred to me how different this experience would be if I had children, in particular teenage daughters. Imagine: “Mom! (shriek!) You’re not going out in THAT are you?!” or, “Oh, Mother, what HAVE you done to your hair?” or that old chestnut, “Mom, don’t you think you’re a bit OLD to dress that way?”

Oh, the humiliation, not just for the teenage daughter, but for me, for being pointed out as mutton dressed as lamb, or for just being an embarrassment. Because moms are expected to behave a certain way, to dress a certain way, to be respectable and good role models for their daughters. (I realize that many aren’t and several come to mind, but being good is what they’re supposed to do.)

Laurel Thatcher Ulrich has a wonderful quote that has made its way into popular culture lately. She said, “Well-behaved women seldom make history.” I’m not exactly planning on making it into the history books for my misbehaving, but I’m enjoying the freedom of having no one to embarrass but myself.

It Got Me Thinking…About “Cheroes”

By Kathleen Guthrie

I’ve long been seeking a role model (a hero), a female mentor who can advise me in life and business (a shero), an experienced guide who can help me make the most of my childfree existence in our mommy-centric society (a “chero,” if you will). I have not yet found someone with whom I can meet for weekly pep talks over tea and scones, but in the world at large, I am finding more and more cheroes who inspire me.

Julie Taymor is one such woman. Most people know her as the creative genius behind the Broadway spectacular The Lion King. This year, a new generation will get to know her as the producer, cowriter, and director of the new musical Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark, with music by U2’s Bono and the Edge. In a career that has spanned 25 years, she’s picked up Tony Awards, an Emmy, an Oscar nomination, and legions of accolades and critical acclaim for her work in theater, film, and opera.

And this was possible because she wasn’t busy picking up toys, picking up kids from school, or picking clumps of stewed peas out of her hair. In a recent interview with Oprah Winfrey, she states it quite simply:

Julie: We didn’t have children…We sort of tried…It didn’t happen, and probably it’s okay.

Oprah: Yes. Because you wouldn’t be able to do all this with the intensity that you’re doing it with.

Julie: No. I wouldn’t.

“Probably it’s okay.” I love that. I can live with that right now. While I’m not yet firmly “okay” with my childfree status, I’m starting to imagine the possibilities. And the next time some well-meaning stay-at-home mom asks, “But, what will you do if you don’t have kids?” I think I’ll tell her about my chero.

Kathleen Guthrie is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She’s mostly at peace with her decision to be childfree.

Go Forth and Multiply…Like Rabbits

A happy (if slightly belated) Chinese New Year to you! In this year of the rabbit, we should look forward to a placid, unhurried year, where we can expect to be carefree and happy without too many annoyances.

Unless you happen to be childfree in Singapore.

According to CNN, Singapore’s prime minister is urging citizens to follow the example of the rabbit and reproduce.

“In his annual Chinese New Year message Wednesday, Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong noted that Singapore’s fertility rate fell to an all-time low of 1.16 percent in 2010 and urged couples to have more babies.”

As if the childless and childfree don’t have enough pressure from family, friends, and society to get onboard and reproduce, now the government is adding their two cents. As if getting out there and “having more babies” is just so simple.

I understand the socio-economic reasons behind this push, but the reality just isn’t so straightforward.

So much for the carefree and unhurried year ahead.

Actresses Without Children Can’t Play Mothers

I saw this article posted online recently where British actress, Anne Reid (best known for her role the long-running soap Coronation Street) was quoted as saying that actresses who don’t have children lack the authenticity to play mothers on screen. Her explanation: “I think you kind of have to have been there. Because it’s a gut thing, isn’t it?”

I huffed and puffed appropriately of course, but then I took a step back and thought about it. I don’t know what it’s like to be a mother. I don’t know how the relationship between a mother and child feels. I know it’s unique and I can guess how it feels, but I really have no experience to tap into. I don’t think I’d play a very convincing mother, so maybe Reid is right.

Then I remembered: I’m not an actress. Duh! Of course I wouldn’t be very good.

So, Annette Bening isn’t gay, but you wouldn’t know if after watching The Kids are Alright. Helen Mirren is neither a mother nor a royal, but she had us convinced of both in her role in The Queen. Hilary Swank isn’t a boxer, Ellen Page isn’t a pregnant teen, Judy Garland had never been tossed over the rainbow by a tornado, and I’m pretty sure that Kathy Bates has never been so enamored by an author that she’s resorted to kidnap and torture. They are actresses; playing characters unlike themselves is what they do.

Anne Reid is clearly a talented actress and has won a major award for playing a mother, but she’s also played a host of other roles in her 50-year career, including a woman with Alzheimer’s. Were you not convincing in that role, Anne, because you’ve never had Alzheimer’s?

Didn’t think so. I rest my case.

Expressing Motherhood Report

As I mentioned last Thursday, I went to see my friend Holly in her show Expressing Motherhood last weekend. I got myself dolled up, drove to Hollywood, circled the dodgy neighborhood until I found parking, and took a seat in the 4th row.

I decided I was going to get past my hang-ups and do this for my friend, but about ten minutes before the show, I suddenly thought, “Oh, God. What am I doing here?” The audience was about 95% women, and I’d guess from the conversations going on around me, about 95% of them were mothers. And there I sat, on my own, wondering what the hell I had been thinking. But then the lights went down and I had no choice but to sit it out.

For the next two hours 13 mothers told stories and sang songs, but here’s what was really interesting. To me, they weren’t 13 mothers, they we simply 13 women who just happened to be mothers. Granted, some of the stories, particularly the funny ones, were about the ups and downs of raising kids, but I was able to laugh just as easily as the mothers in the audience.

There were stories about relocating to a safer friendlier city, about becoming a 30-something widow, and about the funny side of living with Stage 4 Breast Cancer (and yes there really is a funny side!) One woman talked about reconnecting with the Chinese heritage that her father had eschewed in the name of Westernization, and another talked about the effects of her husband’s job loss.

I could relate to all of their stories in some way, or at least see the humor or pathos (although I’ll admit that during one particular story, the only dry eye in the house was mine, but that may have been because I’d steeled myself for the show and perhaps closed myself off a bit. Or maybe I’m just hard-hearted. Whatever.) The point is that yes, I was a lone non-mom in a sea of mothers, but we were all (or at least 95% of us) were women, and 100% of us were human beings, and we can all relate to that. Being a mom, or a non-mom, is only a part of who we are.

This particular show has closed now, but another show with a new set of performers will be coming soon, and I may even go back.