Wednesday, December 28, 2011

No dogs or ... I

When did dogs become more welcome in public than children?  Yeah, I’m serious.  At one time it was normal to see “No dogs, [insert specific religion], or [specific nationality].  Now children aren’t welcome.  And with that, their parents, too.  Yup, discrimination is rearing its ugly head once more in our own beloved country, only instead of discriminating against the elderly, its discrimination toward those who choose to have children.
Yes.  I said that.  Unlike other “choices”, there are plenty of ways to insure that you don’t become a parent.  Many people make use of them.  The young, intelligent, ambitious people that are sometimes referred to as DINKs (double income no kids) like their lifestyle. 
I will admit that the DINK lifestyle seems glamorous while I sit in clothing of a size that disgusts me and I yell at a child for the third time to take off his wet clothing because he smells like a toilet.  The thought of being able to leave the house without tears and cries of “Mommy, you CAN’T go to work!” while a pre-teen rolls her eyes is attractive.  Not having to ask the people that will be travelling with me to put on their shoes and stop picking their nose would be a wonderful thing.  So are the dreams of the ability to have an emergency bank account or a vacation without having to know if there’s a mini-fridge for C’s necessary chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs.
BUT.  Yes, huge but; these people are truly missing out.  They’ve been exposed to children suffering from bad parenting choices that they are biased, so much so that they yearn for child-free areas.  I’ve been the target of the whole “oh, you need to do this” by the childless.  Now, if you’ve been reading, you know that I’ve got three kids.  Two are autistic; one’s what is referred to as neuro-typical.  But she’s three.  I’ve had the boy have a complete meltdown in the checkout line because of too many people, exhaustion, and the checker not giving him HIS bag quickly.  He actually threw himself on the floor, wailing.  But this was over a year ago, and the performance has not been repeated.
While I TRULY understand the hatred of screaming brats, as a mom, I know the causes.  Usually I smile, look at my own quiet children that are, most of the time, angels in public, and say “Uh oh, someone’s done shopping, guys” as the screaming child approaches us, passes, and goes away.

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