Nicole Youngman wrote:
>
> How about sociologist-in-training? <g> Actually, yes, better-off people *do*
> tend to have fewer children. We're not sure yet why that is. <snip>
>From another sociologist-in-training: What Nicole said is very valid and
I would like to add my $0.02 worth (I'm new to this list so gidday to
y'all)
One of the biggest reasons - and you're not necessarily going to like
this but I've got enough empirical evidence to convince me - is
SELFISHNESS. Think about it. Mr and Ms TINK (two incomes, no kids) are
holidaying - for the third time this year. Winter in the Alps, Christmas
in Tenerife, and Summer in the Bahamas. When they go home, it will be to
a lovely apartment in a nice section of town only minutes from the
trendiest places to eat. In the garage is the red ferrari that he's
about halfway through paying off; she much prefers to take cabs
everywhere because she can't be bothered to remember where she parked
the car. And anyway, it's much more fun to call her friends from the
relative comfort of the back seat than snarl and wrestle with the
rush-hour traffic. They get away from it all for long weekends in a
cabin in the hills, on a 2 1/2 acre block that a local gardener
maintains for them. Their spare time is filled with leisure pursuits
they both enjoy, and each will give in to the other if there's something
really important that both should attend and only one really is
interested; this doesn't happen often, anyway. He's into computers and
buys every new gadget going, and a lot of software he hardly ever uses.
She slaps his wrist playfully, but feels fully justified in spending a
similar amount, on clothes, facials and her spiritual guru.
One weekend, they visit his sister. Who married an ordinary guy with a
steady job who wanted kids. Sis didn't particularly feel like having
any, but to please him, she did.
Mr and Ms Tink are horrified at the state of the place as they walk in.
Sis has no job outside the home, but there are toys underfoot
everywhere, dust on the horizontal surfaces (many of which are piled up
with papers and you can see a 'final demand' or two poking out from
some) and the beds aren't made. (the Tinks have a housemaid and never
have to think about such things) Sis offers them a drink, but has to
clear the breakfast dishes off the table before there's a space for them
to sit. Meanwhile, in the background, there's a mini-opera going on. To
the accompaniment of intermittent howls from the baby, who's teething
(and has kept his parents awake for three solid nights now), the two
older kids are having a 'Mine!' 'No, Mine!' fight over a small bit of
coloured plastic something or other. Ms Tink feels tired already and
sinks into the nearest chair. Only to jump up hurriedly as she finds
strawberry red juice soaking into her Armani suit. Having boiled the
kettle and surreptitiously wiped out a couple of cups with an apron
that looks like it should have been washed (but a glance out of the
window shows that the washing line is over-full already, nappies and
kids' clothing taking up the bulk of the space), Sis comes to the table
and oohs and ahs over the lovely delicate hand-blown glass ornament that
Mr and Ms Tink brought her back from their last overseas trip. Then she
carefully wraps it up and puts it away 'so the kids don't wreck it'. Ms
Tink, who loves beautiful things, is very sad that Sis will probably
never get to appreciate it properly. Meantime, the nephews come roaring
into the kitchen, grab some cakes from the plate on the table, and slam
out the back door into the yard. They don't bother to greet the visitors
in the process, and Ms Tink is horrified to find that her matching
handbag now sports a highly visible dent from being trodden upon in the
pandemonium. Sis fetches the baby, and offers him to Mr Tink, who finds
that unfortunately he's rather damp. Manfully ignoring the damage to his
trousers, Mr Tink draws the line when junior wipes his snotty nose on
his jacket as part of the cuddling process. Sis of course, is horribly
embarassed, and indicates that she can't see why the Tinks should have
worn their best clothes when visiting a houseful of kids... The Tinks
look at each other. These *aren't* their best - just ordinary everyday
wear. The visit drags interminably on.
As the front door shuts at the culmination of their visit, everyone
breathes a sigh of relief. The kids run round shouting, ecstatic to at
last be able to let off steam and not be on their best behaviour. Sis
cries a few silent tears. she and bro used to be so close. Mr and Ms
Tink shudder as they fold themselves into the 'fast tomato'. They
compare their lifestyle, laid-back, lotus eating, pleasing themselves
and each other... with that of Sis who is constantly at the beck and
call of her man and her kids, never has anything nice to wear, never
goes anywhere beyond the PTA and the annual school concert, and is being
ground down by endless hours of unrewarding and unremitting housework
she can't afford to get help with. The Tinks look at each other and vow,
as they have many times in the past; 'NO KIDS'.....
And if you had the lifestyle and the income of the Tinks (and I
personally know a few myself who are in exactly this position and for
whom the biological clock is ticking) - ask yourself; which would you
choose? Kids or no kids?
-- Regards
Melanie Dunstan (mother of 4)
in Perth, Australia
Encaustic Art: http://www.ozemail.com.au/~cbooth/melanie.htm
Allcrafts specialises in Unusual Crafts
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