It's a kid's world. Maybe I feel like that because I belong to the childless minority.
I have always been a minority, it seems. But I cannot get used to it. This year is tougher as motherhood continues to elude me.
We attended an early Christmas Party at a colleague's big, new house. There were tons of food (of course), bored spouses and jolly kids. It is a perennial occurrence and my feeling of strangeness persists. Well, aside from feeling awkward and clumsy because I always forget that the kids are the first ones to be served (duh?) and get the first option to choose where they sit which means lucky for us if we find a comfortable place to eat our dinner, most of the conversation were about these children as if they don't get enough recognition. It is perhaps an American way. Nothing wrong with that except that we, the childless minority, were left with this uncomfortable feeling that we don't belong in that gathering. We tried to penetrate their world but it seems like trekking a one-way road and you're going the opposite way. My husband, who is normally quiet and funny, tried his best to deliver his one-liners to no avail. Conversation which jumped from one topic to another without resolving the previous ones were repeatedly interrupted by the children's thumps and holler. After eating and house tour, there was nothing to do but go home. However, children continue to have fun playing and watching a movie. Men (except for my hubby who stayed by my side the whole evening, thank God!) were watching college football game in which the home team was losing terribly. We felt relieved getting out of that predicament. We are once again in our own childless world. "They need a karaoke there," I jokingly told my husband while driving home.
It is always like that each year. I don't even know why we bother to attend. I don't think our absence or presence will make any difference. It occurs to me that we will always find ourselves in that predicament if we stay childless. We will be an outcast for another 20 years in our own age group-- second citizens whom many people will probably feel sorry for. Our life will be treated as less important compared to those with children. The future will stop with us but those with children will continue to exist.
I don't really feel sorry for myself and my husband. I see it like this -- we are given time to know ourselves as an individual and as a couple and to pursue more interests. I am starting to learn how to knit and my husband is getting another degree. Most important of all, we are more appreciative of each other's presence.