Mar. 10th, 2010

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Mother Nature decided to make me child-free. There was a time (not too terribly long ago) when I had a very difficult time with that. However, at this point in my life its definitely a blessing and I thank the Universe every day for the wisdom in keeping me child-free.

I did my stint of parenting to my Ex's children. It was not a very rewarding experience but I think that's largely due to the level of dysfunction that was rampant in the marriage. Being child-free made it much easier to get out of that relationship cheaply and relatively quickly. With as much hurt and pain there was at the end, the fact that I could make a clean cut and move on with my life was a great comfort to me.

The issue of kids did come up very early in the relationship with Jared. I was concerned that he would want children down the road. Thankfully he shared my sentiments. If I ever have any doubts about wanting kids, I only need to go to the local movie theater where the locals drag their screeching 5 year olds to R rated movies and think nothing of it.

I do my own little social experiment when the subject of children come up. I dont usually offer up the fact that I am unable to have children. Even though I've made my peace with it, its not something I like to discuss in casual conversation - who wants to be a Debbie Downer? The reactions I get from people when I express my gratitude over being child-free are interesting. When people think I am childless by choice they feel some need to question my opinion and decision on that. If they press me hard enough about it (and they have more times than I can count) I will admit to them that I am unable to have children. Its amazing how quickly the attitude shifts!

Child-free by choice somehow implies I am some child-hating asshole.
Child-free by circumstance earns their sympathy and pity.

Just goes to show you...no matter how "advanced" our culture is, it still judges a woman's worth by her ability to breed.
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For my Senior Prom, my boyfriend Johnny gave me a Broccoli Corsage. This is the story behind it.




Our first official "date" was Homecoming in Freshman year. I asked him. I had a HUGE crush on him and his dreamy blue Irish eyes. Of course, since I liked him a lot and it was my first date, I was horribly nervous. Because it was Homecoming, you got a corsage. John didnt bother asking me what kind I wanted. He got the kind you pin to someone's chest.

~points to icon~
I have a Rack. Sure it was smaller then but it was still a RACK - one that I was horribly self conscious about. The last thing I EVER want is more attention drawn to my cleavage. So to me, a pin on corsage was horror. And it was HYOOGE. I teased John mercilessly for years afterwards about how he got me freakin STALK for a corsage.

When Senior Prom rolled around, I made sure there would be no more horrifying mix ups. I know for a fact I lectured him incessantly for weeks that I wanted a small, tasteful WRIST corsage.

At this point the corsage had been so built up, that someone decided to give me a broccoli corsage. So there you have it.

And yes, he DID have a nice backup corsage that I wore. I still crack up when I see this picture.

p.s. Dont you love my mother's fashionable 70's drapes and light fixture? Or does my hideous pink Hee-Haw reject poofy hoop dress distract you from everything else in the picture?

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dydan

November 2012

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