Childless Chaz

When I was twenty years old (or somewhere around there), I decided that I wanted to have six children. I never really cared what sex they were, just six kids. On a farm. In my mind it wasn't really a working farm, since I really don't know anything about farming, but I like the idea of having a farm. Animals, and lots of land and a barn and a tractor... how great would that be? I also love the idea of life in the country. I find that people are so much more friendly in rural areas. They help each other out more than in the city and they seem to care more about one another. What a great place to raise my kids!

But things happen. Things change. Things get in the way. The way my life has turned out, I'm not sure if having children would be such a great idea. Would I really want to raise little human beings in a tiny apartment full of too much stuff and not much money? Would I be able to feed and clothe them? Would I be able to feed and clothe myself if they were fed? My friends with children tell me, "you'd find the money if you had kids." Well where the hell is that money? I want to find it now. I don't want to have a kid and then try to find this magical money. I would like to be comfortable financially before I have children.

"If you wait to be financially stable before you have children, you'll never have children."

Okay. Then that's that. But there's no way in hell I'm going to attempt to raise children in a paycheck-to-paycheck environment. When I think about my life and all the ups and downs and twists and turns it has taken and I think about all the melancholy and depressed days I've had, I'm glad I never had children. And I'm okay with that. I'm not ever going to have children. Ever. And I'm okay with that.

Really.

I am.

My kids would hate me right now. Or I would hate them. I think about what I might have done if I had children when I lost my job back in June 2010. I would have had to do something. I couldn't just collect unemployment and wait to hear back from the dozens of applications and resumes I sent out. I would have needed to do something. And more than likely whatever I did would have been something I didn't want to do. I would have worked in a factory or worked as a janitor or worked as a delivery person or worked three or four part-time jobs just to afford to keep my children alive. And I would have never seen them.

Looking back at the list of jobs I would have been forced to take, I realize it makes me look like a snob or something. It makes me look like those jobs are beneath me and anyone who has one of those jobs is a sad excuse for a person. But that's not how I feel. I have no problem doing any of those jobs. But I have gone to school for over twenty years and I would like all the tuition I've paid and all of my degrees to work for me. I want to do something I love. And I love to teach. I don't want to work on a line. I want to teach.

So it's either be selfish and follow my dreams, or put my dreams on hold and work to make money and pay the bills. I hate that those are the only choices available. I hate that I can't get paid enough doing something I love. I hate that I have screwed everything up and made horrible decisions to bring me to this place. But at least I'm not dragging my children down with me.