In the last nine days, K and I have had the chance to experience what life in our thirties and forties would be like if we had chosen not to have children.
It’s been an enlightening experience. Our days, though busy, have also seemed rather empty and devoid of meaning. In the mornings, breakfast time has been just us, our eggs and coffee, and the newspaper. In the evenings, we’ve been retiring to the bedroom to catch up on movies, TV series, iPhone games or reading. When we’ve had new experiences like dining at a new eatery, we’ve only had each other to talk about the food and ambience with. We’ve had lots of time to spend on ourselves and each other. But it all seems much too quiet, even for introverts. We miss the off-beat comments, the constant requests to look at drawings, and the snuggles. We even miss the bickering and the nagging to finish food at mealtimes.
When I was a lot younger, I used to chafe at not being able to do things like have brunch and go shopping because I had babies to look after. Now, going for brunch is nice but not particularly important or satisfying (it’s just food), shopping is tiring, and all the other things that I used to think constituted a good life in my twenties now seem rather shallow and materialistic. How priorities change with age.
There is no denying that having kids can be painful (mostly on the wallet) but I’m glad we have the girls and wouldn’t trade them for the world. They should be back in Singapore tomorrow and I can’t wait to hear all about their adventures during their getaway.