My turn: Get some new (*%&$*&(%$ friends

Carrie Friedman needs to get some new friends and acquaintances, and perhaps switch eye doctors and take a different yoga class too. Seriously. In what social sphere is it acceptable to, while at a party, place your hands on the belly of an acquaintance, UNDER HER SHIRT, and ask personal questions about whether or not she plans to reproduce? Or to not discipline a four-year-old who whacks someone in the face? Or respond to "I am very proud of my recent work accomplishment!" with "You'll never be happy until you have kids!" (Then again, I don't go to a lot of parties. Maybe if I did, evil spirits would possess me somehow and I'd start spouting horribly intrusive questions. Like a fountain. But probably not.)

I know that hyperbole has long been a hallmark of journalism, particularly the personal essay form of it. And I know that when you're writing a persuasive piece, everyone who has ever done you wrong, on any topic possibly related to that piece, will get a mention. And, of course, if you're writing a piece that involves taking a stance on some aspect of motherhood, every single self-centered mother you've ever come across is put front and center, making it easy to trot out the "All Mothers are Blithering Idiots, Unable to Focus on Anything but Their Own Precious Spawn" stereotype.

Whoopee! Anyway. I notice that the author lives in Los Angeles, so yeah, I'm pretty sure that she lives in a different social sphere than I do. Actually, I've noticed that most Horrible Stereotypical Parents tend to live on either coast, where it seems that people really do spend hours in line waiting to get their children into exclusive preschools, agonize over buying just the right stroller and accessories, and spent thousands, if not tens of thousands, of dollars on kids' birthday parties. Me, I live in flyover country, where, for the most part, people behave...well... normally. Strollers are purchased at Target, some schools have waiting lists but not waiting LINES, and kids' birthday parties are usually fairly simple affairs held in rec rooms and backyards, with the occasional "destination" ones at Chuck E. Cheese or that tea party place (when I was growing up, birthday parties were at the roller rink).* And, oddly enough, parents are capable of holding conversations--coherent, worthwhile ones, even--on topics other than themselves and their children. We may not read as many books as we used to, but that doesn't mean that our brains have flown out the window. Surely all mothers who can converse in a pleasant, rational manner cannot be concentrated in the Midwest?

This may be just the "Midwestern nice" talking, but you couldn't pay me to say some of the things that Friedman relates as being said to her. If someone doesn't have kids, I'm not going to ask them why they don't, or if and when they're going to. Sure, it's none of my business. More importantly, however, I don't care. Unlike the people this author knows, I don't really think that much about other people's reproductive plans, or lack thereof. I am too frackin' busy...working, playing, being a new homeowner, and, yes, parenting.

Which, although it is very noisy and involves far more bodily fluids than I would have ever imagined possible, is wonderful, and I do think that I am the happier for it. However, I think most grownups are smart enough to know what they want out of life, and whether or not that involves being a parent.** My personal views are thus: people who want kids should be able to have them, easily and in the manner of their choosing. People who don't want kids should be able to NOT have them without being asked why they aren't pregnant yet. And people who feel that their way is the One True Path to Happiness would be granted the good manners to shut up.

And people who have to contend with strangers groping them would be granted the ability to say, "Man. I have GOT to start hanging out with a different crowd."


*I realize that money is no doubt a factor in this; if I rubbed elbows with the well-monied denizens of my city, I'm sure I'd know some people who rent ten jumping castles for Suzie's birthday party.

**The rest of the grownups can be viewed on daytime talk shows, regaling the audience with Tales of Raging Dysfunction.