I’m scared of children, always have been. They can smell my fear from a good 500 feet away. Like dogs. They get close enough and they start to scream. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I’ve never wanted children.

“Maggie and children? Oh no, Maggie doesn’t want kids. She HATES kids!”

…and then they’ll give you that knowing glance and possibly even a wink. That wink that all women know means “yeah – she says that now, but you wait…she’ll change her mind“. They might then even tap their nose surreptitiously. And they’d want to be surreptitious, too, or I might punch them right in their big, know-it-all NOSES!

As a woman who has been firmly in the no-child zone for the past 30 years, there is nothing more infuriating than a know-it-all telling you that you’ll change your mind when ‘the time is right’ or when ‘you”ve met the right man’. Usually and unsurprisingly, this is coming from other mothers. And I’m here to say – I’m in on your little secret, ladies. Oh yes, I’m on to you! The mothers love to talk up the Mother’s Club like it’s some exclusive day spa cum country club that you’re not invited to. It’s all love and bubbles and smiling children and bliss and happiness and ….wait for it (this is my favourite)….fulfillment.

But I’m here to tell all of those unwary childfree women out there – misery loves company. And the Mother’s Club smugness is a clever way to lull all the blissfully childless into the belief that they’re not really REALLY fulfilled, and not really REALLY a proper woman until they’ve got their membership card firmly implanted within their uterus. And then WHAMMO!! Welcome to the club, grab a luxurious bath robe on the way in. Come and snuggle with the rest of the mothers in the sauna and get ready for a few home truths. Because now that you’re up the proverbial duff, you’re ready. It is here in this clandestine den of womanhood, that the truth comes out.

Low and behold, the joys of pregnancy suddenly turn to horrors. Now we’re not talking about the sound of babies laughing. The giddy delight of bathing your toddler in the kitchen sink. The smell of their little baby heads. The twinkle in Dad’s eye.

Now we’re talking flatulence. Swollen ankles. Constipation. Uncontrollable drooling. Incontinence. Burping. No longer being able to groom your lady bits. Growing a beard!! Here it is ladies – the glorious glow of pregnancy! Torn vaginas! Seventy eight stitches! Vaginal flatulence! Depend real-fit undergarments! Sore nipples. Saggy breasts. Teething. Biting. Wiping poop on the walls. Wiping poop on your face! Ruining the carpet. Hiding chicken nuggets in the back seat. Screaming all the way through the supermarket. Running away in the supermarket. Eating the displays in the supermarket. Wanting to KILL EVERYONE IN THE SUPERMARKET.

*sigh* well. I need to take a seat. Process all of that. And thank GOODNESS that I can still go to the bathroom by myself. Have a shower by myself. Groom my lady bits. Have lady bits not capable of swallowing a Volkswagen accidentally, if I’m not paying attention. Thank all that is good in this world that I don’t. have. children.

So ladies of the Smug Mothers Club – you’re not fooling me. Your winks and sideways glances don’t go unnoticed. Give us childless gals a break and stop it with the smug. We’re happy with our choices.

But you know….it’s only a matter of time 😉 *wink wink, nose tap*