The New Year brings limits

My husband and I swore off going to New York City on New Year's Eve three years ago after a disastrous night at a club.  

We were with five other couples who prepaid for tickets. One couple's name wasn't on the list, so they never got in. I left my brand new digital camera in the bathroom and of course it was gone two minutes later when I realized it and the free bar was a good idea in theory if there had been more than three bartenders for 500 people. It took nearly 30 minutes to get a drink. And the train ride back is always standing-room only because so many New Jerseyans go into the city for the new year and leave right after midnight.

We had had enough and vowed never to go into the city again unless we had a house party to go to. For the last three years, Phillip and I had candlelight dinners at home on New Year's Eve. He grills and I make the sides. We get dressed up for each other and use our fine china. It's always been a wonderful night.

This year, we got an invitation to a house party from our friends Carla and Michael who live in Maryland. Michael, a law professor, has a year long teaching assignment at New York University and the school provided a three-bedroom apartment for him by the school. We had to turn down the invitation because my nieces, Kendall and Kaylee, are staying with us for the week.

When I offered to keep my nieces I knew it would include New Year's Eve, but my love for them overshadowed the night. Plus, we hadn't been invited to the party yet.

But last night was filled with mixed emotions. I was happy my nieces were with us, but sad that we didn't have the option to go into the city for the party. I truly felt the limits of parenting. One of the reasons why I've held off on having children is the limits they place on your life. Not having any options last night really drove home the point of how much a parent's life revolves around a child's. 

Phillip made a delicious fillet mignon, but I could hardly enjoy it because Kaylee, the 17-month-old, who already had dinner, wanted to sit in my lap while I was eating.  We didn't have time to get dressed up because of the kids and we completely forgot about bringing out the fine china.

While I am happy to see another year, last night was the saddest New Year's Eve I've experienced in a long time. 

I have news! No, I'm not pregnant!

Lately, when I've announced to friends that "I have news," they automatically assume that I'm pregnant.

I've been married nearly four years to a man who would make a wonderful father, but right now, we've decided to join the DINK club - Double Income No Kids.

Friends who were married around the same time as we were started having children two years ago. We weren't ready then and we're not ready now! So, stop asking us to have a child so little Johnnie or darling Elizabeth will have a playmate. While I love kids (I have two nieces who I absolutely adore!), I sometimes think that parents want DINKs to join their club because misery loves company.

When friends ask why we haven't had children, we reply that we love our independence too much. I love that I don't have to hire a babysitter when my husband and I have a date night. I love that we can book a flight with two weeks notice for a long weekend halfway across the country and not worry about who's watching the kids. And I love that if we don't feel like cooking for two weeks straight, we won't feel guilty about feeding our kids take-out. We just went three weeks without any substantial grocery shopping; our home isn't really kid friendly these days. With my parents in Memphis and sisters in Ohio and Arkansas, and my in-laws in Jersey, but two hours away, we can't easily rely on family to step in when we want a night out. And yes, it's our fault, but we can't even tell you our neighbors' names, so they're out, too.

I'm not sure how long we will be DINKs. We're not anti-children, just pro-independence. While I think I would eventually make a great mother, I know my limits and right now, I'm selfish, impatient and would rather spend my money on a fabulous Gucci bag than daycare!