Setting a Bad Example
I like peas in a pod—snow peas, snap peas, sugar peas—but I despise the little spherical ones that have escaped the pod. As soon as I became an adult, those peas disappeared from the menu, and, if by some accident one of them makes its way onto my plate at a restaurant, it stays there. Likewise for succotash, beets, and cauliflower (unless drenched in dip)—all the hated vegetables of my childhood.
I probably couldn’t be so judgmental about vegetables if I had kids. After all, it sets a bad example, and parents are supposed to set a good example for their children. In my case, a lot of what I do, although not particularly bad, would not set a great example for a child.
In general, I do eat a healthy, balanced diet. I enjoy a variety of fruits and most vegetables, and I rarely stray from my pesco-vegetarian lifestyle. But there are days when I just feel like eating toast for dinner, and a microwave meal is perfect when I’m on the run. (I’m on the run a lot, which would make parenting very difficult.) I also have no qualms about eating ice cream out of the carton or cereal out of the box. In addition, I typically decide on a dinner menu at the exact moment I start to prepare it, so I’m not sure how I could handle the meal planning routine many of my childed co-workers and neighbors go through on a daily and weekly basis. What if I just don’t want the pasta I’d planned and prepared for dinner? Would I feed it to the kids and eat a veggie burger instead? What if I wanted ice cream? Would I be forced to forgo dinners of cereal and ice cream for eighteen years in an attempt to model good eating behavior?
Cleaning is an area in which I truly have no moral authority. My parents keep their house neater and cleaner than a museum, but I seem to lack the organization gene. As a result, although my house is clean, it is far from tidy. My kitchen table doubles as my desk since the cats prefer the great room next to the kitchen over my home office where I used to work. They’re my kids, and I enjoy spending quality time with them in the evening, so I work where they play. (The cats sometimes even “help” me work. Occasionally, this can be quite effective such as on days like today when Tyler is assisting me by reminding me of all my flaws.)
If I had kids, I would probably be forced to relocate my workspace and find another place for the stacks of papers and research I keep on the non-dining end of the table. Relocating my workspace to my office would undoubtedly make my office look like my kitchen table. So how could I in good conscience tell a child to “clean up your room” when my own living space is in complete disarray?
As if that weren’t enough, I also have a hard time sitting still in the evening. I “do my homework,” so to speak—writing, researching, preparing for community meetings—but I just can’t sit down for an extended period at my makeshift desk to do it. I am constantly distracted by the cats, by something I forgot to do, by something I remembered I have to do to get ready for work tomorrow. Ironically, I admit that I have a very low tolerance for fidgety children, which is, of course, another of the myriad reasons I do not have any, but, although I manage my energy in public, I need to let go in the privacy of my own home. I can’t imagine telling a child to sit still and focus on her homework while I myself was wandering around the house doing several things at once.
One of the reasons the childfree choose not to have children is that we don’t want to give up our way of life. Having children necessitates major life changes, and, for a responsible parent, that includes changes to model appropriate behavior and positive life choices. I have managed to adapt my preferences and shortcomings largely to my benefit. Even so, they may not set a good example for a child, who wouldn’t grasp that I can eat ice cream for dinner on occasion because I ate tuna for lunch or that I can walk around the house in the evening because I sat at my desk all day at work.
My idiosyncrasies make my life my own, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. My decision to be childfree allows me to keep the life I cherish without passing along any bad habits to a child. I’ll leave modeling to the parents—I’m much too busy making sure there aren’t any podless peas on my plate.
Copyright Julie Nisley. Published 1 April 2009 in Editorials.
Reader comments
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Good article! You are right -having a child changes EVERYTHING and I really don’t think people give this much thought when they decide to have kids. They realize the BIG things that will change but those little everday things like what you eat for dinner – or whether you even cook dinner at all – are never considered.
Like you, I love the fact that I do (and eat) what I want, when I want, with no worries. Sometimes I eat ice cream for dinner! Can you imagine trying to do that if you had kids? You couldn’t.
permalink — 3 April 2009, 02:04
Could not agree MORE! Also I cannot swear at work as I work with kids (can be GREAT at putting you off by the way!) so sometimes at home I swear. Could I with little ears around me at home?! I like to watch Monk, Medium and Dead Like Me and other shows inappropriate for little eyes to sneak a peak at and hubby likes the odd horror movie. My cleaning and cooking skills are minimal even though I’m clean, reasonably tidy place & healthy eater overall. (Lucky for me hubby does the cooking for us!)
permalink — 8 April 2009, 12:32