How Would I Know If It's Analog or Digital?

In addition to the baby shower last weekend, 25's step bro announced, via 25's sis, that he and his wife are pregnant.  I won't go in to the fact that it's bizarre that Zoo, 25's sis, was the one to tell us, not the step bro, even though he and 25 have lived together and been family for about 12 years. I also won't go in to what I think of step bro and wife because who knows who reads this thing.

Instead, I wonder why people have kids.  What possesses someone to decide to give over their body to a parasitic creature that will warp said body in ways that means it will never be the same?  To have a kid whom they will have to pay for from now until the end of time.  To have a baby that will cry incessantly and ruin any future good night's sleep or gourmet meal. To willingly decide to be chained to a place, a budget, another person (the other 'creator', not to mention said child) in some way or another for, in most cases, the rest of ones life.

I'm 31.  I've never heard it tick. You know, the biological clock all women are supposed to have and fear once they hit the time in their life when CHILD BEARING MUST TRUMP ALL, because time is running out.  Nnoooooooooooooooooooooooo!!! 

Maybe I've spent too many years taking care of and educating kids that other people have screwed up beyond belief. I'm surprised school teachers ever have kids of their own. The saving grace of dealing with other people's kids is that they are other people's kids.  If it's sick, crying, generally being unpleasant, I can hand it back.  I got to go from the loud helter-skelter of work with kids, to a home that is quiet and clean, not the reverse.  I can go out as late as I want any night of the week, I can. spend my salary on things I want, I . . .  I digress. 

Maybe I'm waiting until I'm 'ready', though I suspect most people who've had kids would be the first to say you never really are ready.  I am definitely not financially ready for kids. I can't imagine having to pay for diapers and food and doctor's visits, and . . . and . . .and. . .ad nauseum while I still have debts. That being said, if only the debt free had children, we wouldn't be dealing with over population on the planet

I don't want to give up three day Bumbershoot weekends, and spur the moment camp trips and about a million other things. Many call that selfish or spoiled behavior but isn't it smarter to think and say those things, than to have a kid and resent it for keeping you from having the life you want? I've seen it happen first hand and it isn't pretty.  Everyone connected to that parent-child relationship is miserable.

I wonder what percentage of people who have kids felt an urge or desire to be a parent/to have kids. Some deep-seated need to sire an offspring, to nurture it to adulthood. I haven't had that pang or twinge.  I don't know what it feels like. I can't imagine it either come to think of it. Or do most people become parents accidentally, without a pang or forethought. Does that more about why so many people are lousy parents and so many kids are dysfunctional than anything?

25 and I have talked about this and we're on the same page.  We're leaving the door open a crack.  We may want kids someday but at this point we are both happy we don't have kids and don't want them now. Knowing that I won't disappoint him because I don't want kids, that we don't have an awkward, potentially relationship ending conversation awaiting us in the abyss that is the future relieves a lot of anxiety and fear. We've talked about the societal convention and expectation, about the shortage or resources and overpopulation that breeding has created, about people we know who are parents.  We both agree that at this point, we don't need to copy our DNA forward to lead a fulfilling, happy lives.

I'd be very interested to see comments from people who have kids, who don't, those who want them, and those who don't. Why did you decide to procreate?

Forced Social Conventions

Today I realized why people get married and why they have babies.  It's primarily because A) it's a social convention and B) it means other people give them stuff.

Living overseas meant very few weddings, and even fewer baby showers . . .actually I attended none of either and was no worse for it.  In fact, I was better off.  Going to these events costs money, often quite a bit of it.  After buying something to wear, a gift, a card, wrapping paper and a bow, travel to the location, food before and/or after, you can easily end up hundreds of dollars in the hole, not to mention the bachelor/ette party and bridal shower. And for what?  It was an event you either didn't want to attend to begin with, or you'd have been happy with it being a third as long as it was.

I do realize that some people have fun at weddings.  The main difference is that they know many of the other people at that wedding, and there is an open bar. Weddings/showers, etc, in which the attendee (me) knows very few of the other attendees (the weirdos) are lots less fun, but lots more awkward to make up for it.

I patiently suffered through a baby shower.  My friend, the pregnant one, is great.  I like her very much, hence the reason she and I have kept in touch since high school, an unmatched feat.  The only folks there other than preggo, her mom, sis and hubby that I knew were people I'd met at her wedding last year. The vast majority of them are married and have kids.  It was a co-ed shower, about twenty adults, and about five infants/toddlers around.  I'm lucky to have escaped without the plague or vomit on me.

If you are unaware of the phenomena I'm about the explain it's either because you have kids that you had early, or you live outside the US.  When you've made it to your thirties and your aren't married and aren't dragging around any germ factories children, you are in a separate class from those of your age who are. I find I have little in common with people generally, and much less with the married mothers and fathers in the group.  How about 3 days at Bumbershoot? Oh, Jimmy is sick? Sorry about that.  I'll send you the photos.  I'm off to Spokane/Missoula/Nebraska/whoknowswhere for months for work. Oh, you can't move about because you have a mortgage and your kids are in school?  I'll send you a postcard.  See where I'm heading with this?

My mother asked me if my biological class was ticking loudly.  My reply, verbatim:  If you mean is it ticking down (the time) until I can leave, yes.  If you mean do I want one of those (babies), no.

I didn't know those people and being in the same room with them, some blue clothes pins, cupcakes and a pregnant woman was not going to change that.  I'd have loved to meet preggo, just the two of us, but schedules don't seems to be allowing for that.  I'd have much preferred to give her a gift then and actually have the opportunity to chat to her.  Instead, during the gift competition, I waved from across the room and had two minutes of talk as I said goodbye and peeled out after two and a half (long, dreadful, painful, excruciating) hours.

I treat myself to some beer on the way home at Powerhouse Brewery in Puyallup.  A growler full of their Scottish Ale is chilling in the fridge now.  Almost makes the whole thing worth it.

Baggage Theory

No one gets to thirty without some baggage.  Even those among us who have had less than a thousand first dates.

I've narrowed my philosophy on this one this:

I'm looking for someone who has carry on baggage, not checked.

I've traveled quite a bit so the analogy speaks to that experience.
Carry on baggage means:
you know how to travel light. Work with what you've got.  You're willing to do laundry instead of carry extra clothes. You prefer to fly through the airport, only arriving an hour before your flight, and know how to get through security without setting off a metal detector.

Checked baggage means:
You favor stuff over the mobility to do stuff.  You are potentially inexperienced, taking everything with you, instead of making do and letting go. You have to spend lots of time waiting both to check and retrieve your stuff.

I'm divorced.  That's a phrase I don't say often.  I'm not embarrassed by it.  I'm not proud of it.  But it honestly doesn't come up often in my life.  I usually make a point of mentioning it to people I'm dating/friends at some point.  It has to be a conscientious mention because it never comes up otherwise. He's not in my life, at all.  That's not hyperbole.  When I left, after the paperwork was done, the house was sold, the things divided, I left. I believe when you split from someone, there's usually a very good reason.  I had my reasons.  I still believe they were the right ones, that I was justified. Few people get to know the whole story.

I'm proud of the fact that my baggage is carry on. Maybe it's because I've evolved as I've traveled.  I take less stuff.  I won't break my back to have an extra change of clothes.  I know that if I forget my ________ (toothbrush, flip flops, etc) I can buy them there.  I know it's easier to buy liquids like shampoo wherever I'm going. I like not waiting in line to hand over my bag only to worry if it will show up at the same place and at the same time that I do. I like flinging my bag on my back and being boat/bus/hike ready.  All of that is true when I travel.  Most of it is also true for my emotional baggage.  I like that I'm not being crushed under the weight of past hurts. I feel that I've learned from past mistakes, I acknowledge their role in shaping who I am now, and importantly who I date now..

I usually say that I got out of a marriage about as well as anyone could. No kids, we sold or split the rest of the "things" we had together.  I went to see a psychiatrist even when he wouldn't.  I made peace with my decisions, let myself off the hook for some of the bad ones, resolved to make fewer bad ones in the future and enjoy my life.

Right now, most of my dates are from online sites.  For better or worse, that means I can filter who I date with a simple check box.  While there currently isn't a "beard" or "no beard" box to check, I do filter out men with kids.  Kids is a level of baggage that some with staff and ex's and and and  . . . .WHOA. I don't even know if I want my own yet but I'm sure that at this point, I don't want someone else's.  They may be great kids (because doesn't everyone think their own kids are great?) but they come with an ex-wife or ex-gf who is permanently attached to them.

I'll have you know I had some great visuals, but for the second post in a row, I can't upload pictures again!  ARGH, damn you Blogger!  --UPDATE: HAH! I found a work around!