Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

An Interview with Childfree Children’s Book Author Ron Harner

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Books by Ron Harner

Books by Ron Harner

My nephews love Suck It Up, Tate!, one of three books for kids by Ron Harner. It is one of those books they beg me to read to them “Again! Again!” Clearly, Ron “gets” kids, so it may come as a surprise that he doesn’t have any of his own.

How many times have we heard “You wouldn’t understand, you’re not a parent” and felt our blood boil? The next time some unfeeling person slings this at you, remind them that Theodor Seuss Geisel, aka Dr. Seuss, didn’t have children of his own. Then tell them about Ron Harner. His story is below.

By the way, when Geisel was asked about not having kids, he responded, “You have ’em, I’ll entertain ’em!” Sounds like Ron is doing a bang-up job of this as well.

LWB: Are you childfree by choice, chance, or circumstance?

Ron: Most definitely by chance. I was on track to be a father, and then my first marriage blew up unexpectedly and pretty spectacularly. I was reeling for a while. Having kids was the plan, but life doesn’t always stick to the plan.

LWB: Where are you on your journey now?

Ron: Not having children is something I made peace with a while ago. That’s not to say I don’t get twinges occasionally, but, after my breakup, I didn’t go looking for a mother. I didn’t go looking for anybody. I met a girl in an elevator one day, and everything changed for the better. Kids weren’t in the cards for us. That was twelve years ago. I’m glad I didn’t take the stairs that day.

LWB: What was your inspiration for the first book/series?

Ron: I’m the youngest of five children. My brother and sisters all have a bunch of kids. One Thanksgiving, we were sitting around the table and my oldest sister said, “You write everything else, why don’t you write a children’s book?” And then she added, “…but not one that’s all sunshine and lollipops. I’d love to find a book in which the kid screws up and has to deal with it.”

So, I wrote one. It’s called Suck It Up, Tate! I’m fortunate to count a ridiculously talented Disney animator [Michael Surrey] among my friends, so I enlisted him to make it look great. I was able to publish that one, and then was asked to write two more.

LWB: Are readers surprised to learn you don’t have children?

Ron: Readers do seem surprised to discover I don’t have kids. But, like I mentioned, I have a brood of nieces and nephews who I adore. I spend as much time with them as I can, and they supply me with a ton of material.

I should note that I have a dog, Maggie, who I need as much as she needs me. People see the way I act with her, and that’s when I get the “How is it that you don’t have children?” question the most.

LWB: How gratifying is it to hear “My kid wants me to read it to him every night!”? Do you feel like you are making a difference in a kid’s life through your stories?

Ron: My aim was to write books that would appeal to kids and adults. The messages in these books are lessons my father gave me when I was young—not verbally; Dad wasn’t a big lecturer. He led by example. I took what stuck with me, added funny characters, and the stories just poured out.

I have to say it’s incredibly gratifying when I get a note from a parent who tells me one of the books has struck a chord with their child or that he or she shouts out the title at the right point of the story. Books played a big part of my life growing up, so that makes me smile.

LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?

Ron: Most times I’m fine. There are times when I’d love to be able to be share some of the things I’m passionate about with someone just coming up in the world. I play my favorite records for my dog, but she seems underwhelmed.

LWB: What’s the best part about not having children?

Ron: I’m able to spend real quality time with my wife, doing the things we love to do together. Until just recently, when we got hitched, we were not tied together by anything other than the fact that we love being with each other. Plus, I can indulge all the creative stuff I like to do, including writing and performing sketch comedy with a great group of comedians I met at The Second City. That stuff is pretty liberating.

LWB: What’s the best advice you’d offer someone else like you?

Ron: The only advice I’d dare give anyone is to be truly honest with yourself. I’m insanely happy with my lot in life. Don’t do something just because someone expects you to, and don’t turn away from something that drives you just because it’s difficult.

LWB: Are more books coming?

Ron: Kids frequently ask me if I’m going to write a fourth book—they’ve even gone so far as to suggest new stories! Maybe I’ll reread the first three books after this interview. Who knows where the next good idea will come from?

 

Suck It Up, Tate!, Cool It, Frida!, and Move It, Milton! are available in hardcover and paperback at RonHarnerBooks.com. Paperbacks are available at Amazon and BarnesandNoble.com.

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayThis week’s Whiny Wednesday topic comes from a reader and is ripe for a rant and perhaps some ideas.

She writes:

“I still haven’t figured out how to make friends with people my own age (40s) who have children. I often feel disposable, or okay to invite to things when it suits them. I’m a thoughtful, caring person who deserves better.”

What do you think about this? It’s Whiny Wednesday, so let it all out.

Our Stories: Heather

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our Stories“When I was a little girl,” Heather says, “I always wanted to have a baby, just one.” But she was not able to be a mother, first by chance and later through choice when she chose to stop pursuing infertility treatments. Now 39, Heather and her husband are embracing their own Plan B, a childfree plan. Here’s her story.

LWB: Briefly describe your dream of motherhood.

Heather: I had dreams of loving, caring, and teaching my child all about life. I wanted to be a mother who gave my child humor and memories, a mother who would support and enjoy my child’s journey in life.

LWB: What was the turning point for you?

Heather: After the last IVF, they called to tell me that my levels had turned low—meaning a miscarriage. I went upstairs into my bathroom, took everything from the IVF and bagged it up, took it to the trash, and told myself that enough was enough. I needed to get myself back.

LWB: What’s the hardest part for you about not having children?

Heather: Being excluded from my friend’s lives when they talk about their kids. Or being left out of the birthday parties because I don’t have kids, so they think that I won’t want to attend. (I buy the best gifts!)

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Heather: That I love my quiet time. That I don’t have the patience for kids around me all the time. I believe that there are places kids should not be—salons, swanky restaurants and bars, concerts—and I enjoy going there.

LWB: What’s one thing you want other people (moms, younger women, men, grandmothers, teachers, strangers) to know about your being childfree?

Heather: Just because I don’t have children of my own, doesn’t mean that I don’t “like” them. I am a great aunt, a great friend to young teens that my friends and family have. I want people to know that I wanted kids, it just was something that was not meant for me to do.

LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”

Heather: This question still bothers me. I usually just say “No, I don’t have kids.” If people would leave it at that…but most of the time they follow that with “Are you going to?” It depends on who asks and the situation itself, but my favorite answer is “No. Do you?” It usually takes them aback, and I smile deep down.

LWB: Who is your personal chero (a heroine who happens to be childfree)? What about her inspires you?

Heather: I read an article a couple months ago about stars who don’t have children. Cameron Diaz stated that she doesn’t have kids, and she has a great life because of that. It makes me happy, because my husband and I have a great life, we are free to do what we want, when we want. I lean on that when I feel bad for myself.

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

“Our Stories” is taking a short hiatus until September. If you’ve enjoyed reading the column and would like to add your voice to the conversation, we’d love to hear from you. Sharing your experience with others makes you realize you’re not alone, and your story could help someone who is struggling to feel heard.

Please visit the “Our Stories” page to find more about the column and get information about how to share your story. ♥

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayThis hot-button whine was sent in from one of our readers:

When you read an interview of some celebrity or hear someone say

“I never knew what love was until I had a child.”

So…is she saying that because I’m childfree I’m not capable or “real” love, or because I’m childfree I will be denied the experience of the highest expression of love?

Whether this makes your blood boil or cuts you to the core, whine away, sisters!

And if you have another great whine you need to get off your chest this week, here’s the place to let it rip.

It Got Me Thinking…About Makers: Women Who Make America

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Girl ThinkingI stumbled upon this fantastic interview of Gloria Steinem in which she addresses—among other thought-provoking topics—how she felt about being single and childfree during a time when “women weren’t seen as much as a voice but more barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.”

I don’t want to print any spoilers, so I hope you’ll read it for yourself. Let me just say she inspires and empowers me and, like her, I am a “hope-aholic.”

Ms. Steinem is someone we would call a chero here, a hero who happens to be childfree. She is one of many included in the PBS documentary MAKERS: Women Who Make America. You can learn more about the Makers initiative and the documentaries here.

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

Shadow Lives

By Paula Coston

Image courtesy of Ideago/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Image courtesy of Ideago/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I’m 59 now, and over those close-on six decades I have mapped out in my mind an entire web of paths untaken. Would’ve, should’ve, could’ve. And for that reason, Chapter 7 of Jody Day’s book Rocking the Life Unexpected: 12 Weeks to Your Plan B for a Meaningful and Fulfilling Life without Children chimes with me. (Jody is the founder of Gateway Women, a British-based website for women childless by circumstance.)

The chapter’s first two sections are headed “The shadow of the life unlived” and “The dark side of daydreams.” She shares her own experience with searing frankness:

“For many years I’d been living two lives: one in which I was hoping for a baby and making the best of things till then, the other in which I had succeeded and had become a mother….

“At no point in that time… did I fully and completely embrace the life I was actually living—that of a childless woman….

“I think of the ‘shadow life’ as the life you dreamt about while your ‘real’ life was happening and … which … depleted the life you were actually living.”

We all have our path forks. A few of mine happened when:

– Somewhere in my childhood, I believed my family was encouraging me in the single, career-driven life, not a life of love and family.

– Over the years a couple of men proposed to me, both in fun. Friends laughed too, hearing about it.

– It became clear to me that one special lover had serious issues about parenthood, so when the option came up for us, I knew I had to forgo it.

– Neighbors and colleagues at work became grandmothers, and, like a photograph gradually developing, I soon saw that I never would.

Slowly, I’m coming to terms with these losses. These days, what fascinates me more is the way we persist in tracing and re-tracing these ghosts of roads untaken.

I wonder whether, once we surmount the pain, their rehearsal can bring us comfort. Why not trust that we’re living our shadow lives somewhere else close by, if it helps? Maybe the psyche is instinctively drawn to the idea of alternative realities. And if you’re a writer—like me—well, it’s unavoidable.

In 1964, a TV soap, Another World, started on NBC, set in the fictional town of Bay City. It was so popular that it ran till 1999! The co-creator Irna Phillips explained the idea behind it: “We do not live in this world alone, but in a thousand other worlds.” Bay City and its happenings represented to her the difference between “the world of events we live in, and the world of feelings and dreams that we strive for.”

Over the last four years, my best therapy has been to struggle with, and beat, writing a novel. It just came out on June 27, entitled On the Far Side, There’s a Boy. It tells the tale of a woman who doesn’t know that she even contemplates having children until she begins to dream—of one particular boy in Sri Lanka, whom she has known only through letters, so only half-known—and to see that he is what she wanted: even, what she may still want. It’s a kind of fantasy experience, parallel to her real life.

Aptly, her story echoes much that has happened to me. So these days, I’m learning to live with my shadow lives, to let them be and wend their ways, sometimes even to enjoy them.

I think I’ll term myself an AMo. Meaning “I love” in Latin, it also suggests that I’m a kind of Alternative Mother, somehow living both lives, the one I have and the one I didn’t, in harmony.

Paula Coston’s On the Far Side, There’s a Boy is available in paperback and e-book on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/paulacoston

Behind the Walls of the Mommy Club

By Paulina Grace Hay

People at beach drinking having a partyOne thing I’ve felt and heard many times is about being locked out of the “Mommy Club”—a club we felt we had a natural right to join, no special requirements necessary. Then infertility, illness, age, or time black-balled us. We stand wistfully outside trying to get a peek of the mothers inside living their ideal lives. We imagine all the judgment about our “child-free” lives will be washed away once we walk through those golden Mommy gates.

I live in an odd situation where my life straddles having no kids and having one kid. I have a teenage stepson. He was a toddler when I started dating his father. I am not a full-time stepmother and my son’s mother is very active in his life. Due to this unexpected loophole, I have been granted a “special guest pass” into the Mommy Club. But with restricted privileges. I’ve been outright ignored, given the once over, and warmly greeted. Sometimes by the same person.

I found my place at the club in the fly-on-the-wall seat. I’ve done my share of listening and observing over the years from this post. From the moment a woman is pregnant, people have lots of opinions to share in front of her face and behind her back. I’ve watched the awkward “Congratulations” and subsequently more awkward baby shower for the 19-year-old who got admitted too soon. I’ve watched one mother look down her nose at another for paying for lunch milk rather than packing it. I’ve heard one mother refer to another’s young child as “homely”. In return came an insult about their son’s need for a haircut. I’ve watched smiling faces drop like lead balloons after having an unexpected insult directed their way. I’ve heard the voices lower and eyes begin shifting as a group insult gains momentum.

If anything, admittance into the Mommy Club only ramps up your potential areas of judgment. Some are the old stand-bys. Your age. Your weight. Your hair. Your outfit. Your car. Your house. Your husband. Your ex-husband. Your job. Your decision to stay home. Then multiply all of those things by your child and husband. Possibly your parents and your dog, too. How you raise your kids has the highest potential for conflict of all.

The Mommy Club is not for the faint of heart. Often I saw these women enter with full armor on, even if it looked like yoga clothes, in the chance a battle may begin at any time. Very different to the rose-colored version I imagined, where a new mother would be greeted with open arms and loving support once inside the club walls.

My biggest lesson from access into the Mommy Club is this: Being a mother does not make you automatically connect with another person. I’ve found the same holds true for infertility. It just might give you something to talk about for a few minutes or a few get-togethers. We are more complex and interesting than our children. Or lack of them. I choose to instead consider that we are all part of the Human Club. And for that, there is no special admittance required.

 

Paulina Grace walked away from the infertility roller coaster six years ago. She hopes to help other women let themselves grieve and then let themselves live. Outside of running her own business, Paulina fulfills her need to nurture by being an involved aunt and caring for her aging parents. 

Silly Dancing and Other Childish Behavior

dancing in fieldHave you ever wanted to dance for absolute no good reason? This feeling has been creeping up on me a lot recently.

Sometimes I feel trapped in my adult body and my grown-up brain. Part of me wants to break free from my stiff ankles and sore lower back and just do a silly dance. Part of me wants to let go of my dignity and decorum and run the risk of being seen to “show off.”

Is this childish or just childlike?

There’s a part of me that’s always been a bit of a rebel, albeit a law-abiding rebel. And lately that rebel inside wants to throw off the mantle of respectability, discard expectations of middle age, ignore the assessing eyes of the well-behaved and the socially compliant.

If I was a parent I would have to be socially compliant; I’d have to be well-behaved. Yes, there are many badly-behaved parents in the world, but nobody thinks much of them. Parents are supposed to be good.

But I’m not a parent, so do I have to behave?

That rebel inside me wants to dance. It wants be a little bit naughty. My rebellious inner child wants to come out to play again, and I’m not sure there’s any reason she shouldn’t.

My inner rebel wants to feel the syncopated rhythm of a life well-lived.

What about you? Does your inner child want to come out to play?

 

Silver Linings

beach-ocean4Mr. Fab and I are off to Hawaii this weekend.

Three weeks ago we decided we could use a weekend away. We have a ton of frequent flier miles to use, so we looked to see where we could go that wasn’t cold and snowy, or overrun with drug cartel. Hawaii was it.

We flipped through our calendars, found a free weekend, and booked the flights. We found a condo, a rental car, and a hotel near the Oakland airport for the night before our early morning flights. Done. We’re going.

Tonight I’ll toss a bathing suit, flip flops, and a book or two into a carry-on bag, plus a couple of dresses for the evening, and we’re outta here. By the time some of you read this today, I will be horizontal on a beach towel, fully on Island Time.

For the purposes of this post, I gave a little thought to how this story might have unfolded if we’d decided to take an impromptu weekend away with a baby in tow. It’s possible it could have been much the same, right until the packing began, but once I reached the part where I’m juggling a baby, a stroller, a car seat, and three suitcases of paraphernalia through the airport, I stopped trying to imagine what my “dream” life would have been like.

I’m in no denial about the many wonderful things I won’t get to experience because I don’t have children, but nor am I going to lie to myself or anyone else about the silver linings that have come along too.

My impromptu trip is definitely one of them.

The Universal Assumption of Eventual Parenthood

Maybe BabyBy Maybe Lady Liz

At the tail end of a pretty stressful week at work, I picked up a call that I really should have let go to voicemail. It was a colleague – let’s call her Chelsea – at another university, wondering if I might be available to act as a panel speaker for a last-minute student event she was throwing that Saturday. Luckily, it coincided with my volunteer work at an animal shelter and I didn’t have to scramble for some bogus excuse. Chelsea then asked if my newly-married co-worker Evelyn might be available. I said I wasn’t sure of her weekend schedule on such short notice, and that’s when she dropped this little gem into the conversation about my boss:

“I’d really love to have Nancy there, but I know she’s got a toddler at home and I feel bad asking someone with kids to give up part of their weekend for work, so I thought I’d at least try you and Evelyn.”

What?

Did that really just happen? Stunned, I gave a polite laugh and said I understood as she went on to complain about missing her own daughter’s soccer game for the event. But you know what? I don’t understand. I don’t understand at all how not having children of your own somehow makes your free time less valuable, open to being taken advantage of.

I don’t think Chelsea said what she said because she’s insensitive to those without children. The truth, I think, is a little more unsettling: that Chelsea saw me and Evelyn as those who didn’t have kids YET. Who would someday join the ranks of the protected, but needed to pay our dues now while we’re childless. Perhaps an okay system for those who DO go on to have kids and later reap the benefits, but what about those who choose not to? Or worse, those who desperately want to, but can’t?

The universal assumption that everyone will go on to become a parent can be a dangerous one for those of us who won’t, for whatever reason. It can mean, at times, that we’re paying into a system that’s distributing unequal rewards. And some of that is just life: unfair by nature, and often unchangeable. But it doesn’t do us much good to just come home and complain to our spouses or cats (or glass of wine) about it. I’m sure we’ve all done enough of that. Which is just one of the many reasons I’m glad there are sites like Life Without Baby that allow us to share our stories and connect with one another. The further along we can get in the conversation, the more likely we are to take it from the digital world out into the real world – with our friends, our family, our co-workers – and hopefully, someday, springboard towards real change in understanding that everyone’s life has equal value, regardless of how many tax dependents you claim. [Speaking of, does anyone know if the aforementioned cats count as dependents in the eyes of the IRS?]

Maybe Lady Liz is blogging her way through the decision of whether to create her own Cheerio-encrusted ankle-biters, or remain Childfree. You can follow her through the ups and downs at MaybeBabyMaybeNot.com.