I’m unplugging November 25th-28th and December 23rd-28th (or possibly all the way through New Year’s) to celebrate my favorite season of the year. I might pop in here and there to read blogs or say hi on Twitter, but for the most part, I’ll be tuned in (to my real life) and turned off.
Happy Turkey day…and if you’re looking for something to do this weekend, consider checking out the Thankfully Reading Weekend, brought to you by Jenn and the aforementioned Candace, and Jen.
2009 at 12am Posted by Rebecca Schinsky

Published October 2009 by Seal Press
The assumptions people often make about the voluntarily childless troubled me because they didn’t come close to capturing my complex motives.
Laura Scott was happily childfree and increasingly frustrated by other people’s reactions to her choice. Curious to understand the “childless by choice” and eager to give them a voice, she set out to create a sociological study to identify the most compelling reasons to remain childfree and to better understand the decision-making process of those who decide to do so.
Two is Enough: A Couple’s Guide to Living Childless by Choice presents Scott’s findings, gleaned from surveying 171 childless by choice individuals andconducting in-depth interviews with many of them. Scott’s goal is not to convert or convince anyone to make the choice to remain childfree. This book is not a polemic for childlessness. Scott’s only agenda is to push society to move beyond the assumption of parenthood and to “redefine gender roles and what we call family.” Currently,
The question is not “are you planning to have children?” It’s “when are you having children?”
This assumption of parenthood persists even while the assumption of marriage has lost its power in modern society.
In Two is Enough, Scott emphasizes the message that parenthood is a choice, not an imperative to be fulfilled, an inevitable consequence of marriage, or simply the next step that must be taken in order to meet familial or cultural expectations. She encourages individuals to think deeply and deliberately about the decision and hopes to help the childless by choice gain greater acceptance in contemporary society.So, what’s the most compelling motive for remaining childfree? Scott’s participants most commonly rated this statement (out of eighteen possibilities) highest:
I love our life, our relationship, as it is, and having a child won’t enhance it.
My husband and I are seriously considering not having children, and I’m here to tell you (as I told Trish and Swapna on Twitter this weekend) that I believe it…because it’s my most compelling reason, too. The other high-ranking motives include valuing freedom and independence; not wanting to take on the responsibility of having a child; having no desire to have children or not maternal/paternal instinct; wanting to accomplish or experience things that would be difficult if one were a parent; and wanting to focus time and energy on one’s own goals and interest.
“I don’t enjoy being around children” ranked thirteenth out of the eighteen motive statements, and “People I know have not realized the rewards they expected as a parent” ranked sixteenth. I mention these because I think it is commonly assumed that people who don’t want children of their own must not like children at all. I know I have encountered that response, and that’s just not the case. With five nieces and three nephews, my life is full of children. And I like it that way. I also like being able to return them to their parents and retreat into the quiet of my own house after spending time with them.
I think it’s also worth discussing the idea that seeing other people’s experiences fail to live up to their expectations can be a deterrent for those contemplating parenthood. I know that my friends and family members who have children love them dearly. And I know that there are beautiful, heartfelt, unbelievably meaningful moments of pride and connection and emotion…but it seems like they’re pretty few and far between, buried beneath loads of stress and worry, and the couples rarely seem truly happy. If having children means potentially sacrificing the quality of my relationship with my husband, then I’m not interested. As Scott says, “I value a strong and enduring relationship with a life partner more than I do the prospect of parenthood.”
So, how can people go about deciding whether having kids is right for them? One of Scott’s research participants gives this suggestion:
At least twenty times a day for the next week or month, ask yourself the following question: “How would having children change what I am doing now?
Also, talk with your partner. A lot. And be prepared to feel the sting of social criticism or stigma because choosing to be childfree “is a fundamental challenge to the way most people see the world.”
Scott’s interviews with childless-by-choice couples revealed the importance of being “on the same page” and indicated that women—at least the ones in her study—often feel more affected by the assumption of parenthood because it carries with it the idea that motherhood is the mark of womanhood, and many people can’t make sense of how a woman who is not a mother can really be a woman at all. Her participants also expressed frustration with the assumption that the intentionally childfree are selfish or immature—many of them felt that not having children would allow them to make greater contributions to society—and will someday regret their choice.
To these sources of frustration, Scott says that “the assumption that the only path to responsible adulthood is parenthood is another tired remnant of a pronatalist culture,” and “the specter of regret seems to be a cultural assumption more than a real fear harbored by the childfree.” In short, people who choose not to have children are just as responsible and mature as those who do, and they are not doomed to regret their choice. Parenthood is not for everyone, and it shouldn’t be forced (by social, cultural, or family pressure) on anyone who doesn’t want it, nor should individuals or couples be punished, stigmatized, or ostracized for making the choice that is best for them.
Two is Enough provides excellent guidance and insight for individuals and couples considering the childfree choice, with words of wisdom from people who have been there and done that. Author Laura S. Scott argues against the pronatalist assumption of parenthood, identifies and explores the most compelling reasons for remaining childless, examines the decision-making process and the four primary types of childless-by-choice individuals, and provides suggestions for living childless by choice in a society that seems to be obsessed with babies. But this isn’t just a book for the childfree.
Scott’s thorough research and thoughtful interviews with childless couples shed light on how and why people decide not to be parents and will be interesting and useful for anyone who wants to understand the decision. If I had my way, Two is Enough would be required reading for all, as we move toward a more inclusive, accepting society with a more contemporary definition of family.
Visit the Childless by Choice Project’s website and blog for more information, including the survey Scott used in her research.
Thanks to Seal Press for providing me with a review copy of this book.
2009 at 12am Posted by Rebecca Schinsky

Published May 2009 by Doubleday (a division of RandomHouse)
My friend Kristen wrote a guest review of this book back in the spring that prompted me to read Ayelet Waldman’s controversial essay in which she said that she loved her husband more than she loved her children, and that prompted me to make my own confession about still being on the fence about the whole to-breed-or-not-to-breed issue. Kristen was kind enough to send me her ARC, and I finally got around to reading it during last month’s read-a-thon.
Maybe it’s because I’m still undecided about whether I want to have children (still leaning toward not, just in case you’re wondering), but I find these warts-and-all candid accounts of parenthood completely fascinating and irresistible.After reading Waldman’s husband Michael Chabon’s recent collection Manhood for Amateurs, I had high hopes, and Bad Mother did not disappoint.
Anyway, Bad Mother is a collection of eighteen essays that chronicle, according to the subtitle, “maternal crimes, minor calamities, and occasional moments of grace.” It is a modern woman’s progressive take on marriage, partnership, parenting, and tough decisions. And why is it called Bad Mother? Well, because this is a book “about the perils and joys of trying to be a decent mother in a world intent on making you feel like a bad one.”
In the title essay, Waldman explores the double standards our society applies to defining good parenting.
Being a Good Father is a reasonable, attainable goal; you need only be present and supportive. Being a Good Mother, as defined by mothers themselves, is impossible.
This same idea appears in an essay in Chabon’s collection, and I found it very interesting to read about the separate experiences of both members of a couple. Addressing another issue of couplehood in “Free to Be You and I,” Waldman wonders “Is the problem not that men choose to do only a third of the domestic labor but that women let them?” Refusing to accept the (asinine) notion that being a woman makes one inherently more inclined to or more skilled at cooking, cleaning, etc., she recounts the ways in which she and her husband have divided the work of raising children and running a household, and if I weren’t already a little bit in love with Michael Chabon, this would have put me over. Women need to expect the men in their lives to be equal partners, and men need to come to the table prepared to do so.
Waldman also addresses the fact that strangers often feel compelled to express their ideas or opinions about parenting and force them onto others, and in the essay “Breast is Best,” she recounts a very funny story (that I won’t tell you because I want you to read the book yourself) and admits that “As a parent, I am absolutely certain of only one thing: my own fallibility.” Her willingness to admit her mistakes, confess her uncertainty, and drop the facade of being a perfect parent make Bad Mother a very compelling read.
In “Sexy Witches and Cereal Boxes,” Waldman discusses her early sexual experiences, her determination to be honest with her children about sex, and her struggle to accept her daughter’s impending sexual awakening. While her own first experience was with an older, more experienced man, she has different desires for her daughter.
I want her boyfriend to be a pimply-faced boy her own age, blushing and gawking, with no more idea of what to make of a teenage girl than she has herself.
It’s encouraging to know that even the most progressive parents have a hard time figuring out how to navigate the whole birds-and-the-bees thing, isn’t it? I mean, I did sex research graduate school, and even I don’t know what to say to my sister-in-law about how to start having “the talk” with my ten-year-old niece. I can only imagine how I’d approach it with my own kids.
In addition to discussing relatively common dilemmas of marriage and family life, Waldman also recounts her decision to have an abortion when she learned that the baby had a genetic defect and was likely to be disabled and the process she and her husband went through in arriving at and making peace with that choice. That essay, “Rocketship,” is easily the most difficult-to-read piece in the collection, but it is also possibly the most important for the way it lays out the meaning of “pro-choice,” the experience of having an abortion, and the intense complexity of the decision.
It’s easy to talk theory and to support a woman’s right to choose, but it is entirely another to exercise that right and be brave enough to tell the story. Waldman’s courage in discussing her choice and her strength in refusing to make apologies for it are what make Bad Mother more than just another example of “I wrote a funny book about being a parent.”
In the final essay, entitled “The Life I Want for Them,” Waldman criticizes modern parents’ insistence on raising high-achieving, multi-tasking children.
Why is it that when our children fail to meet our unrealistically high expectations—when they behave, instead, like normal, average kids—we end up disappointed?
And later:
We contemporary parents are convinced, just like the fictional population of Lake Wobegon, Minnesota, that all of our children are above average.
This is a problem not only because it gives children a false sense of confidence and sets them up for failure but also because when “you are so devoted to your expectations…it blinds you to the wonders of the children you have.” And even a Bad Mother needs to celebrate.
I thoroughly enjoyed this collection of essays and Waldman’s candid voice, smart humor, and wry observations, and I wholeheartedly recommend it to readers looking for a new perspective on marriage, parenting, and some of life’s toughest decisions. 4.25 out of 5.
As a side note, Bad Mother would be a fantastic selection for any of you participating in the Women Unbound Challenge.