Monday, May 10, 2010


Q: How long have you known you were pregnant?
A: As soon as humanly, scientifically possible. (roughly two weeks after conception, which would be late January) I am utterly befuddled by people who claim to have gone months without knowing. I have a calendar; I am intimately in tune with my body's cycles. I can't see missing those signs for several months at a time.

Q: Oh, so I guess you've finally stopped riding your motorcycle.
A: That's not a question. And, no.

Q: Are you going to find out whether it's a boy or a girl?
A: Yes, we will be doing penis-counting later this week. I'm all about transparency, so why not have all the info?

Q: So, do you want a boy or a girl?
A: I really can't control that, so I will not state a preference. I tend not to state desires for things I cannot control. Ever. I think it's a power thing. At any rate, it's all Paul's fault, and whatever chromosome he put in, he's not telling. So we'll find out the old-fashioned way: ultrasound!

Q: Have you thought about names yet?
A: Yes, but we're not telling. I'll tell you things we're NOT using, but if/when we decide, it will only be announced after we've burdened this as-yet-unknown little person with our poor choice. So no one can feel like their opinion is needed. It's hard enough to choose without every random person's opinion. Take comfort in knowing that whatever we choose will be turned into a playground epithet regardless.

Q: So are you going to stay at home after you've had the baby?
A: Yes, for probably several days. Then? Um, hello? I love my job! Plus we can't both be at home. No one ever asks my husband this. WTF? Someone actually told him that he couldn't take care of the baby because he didn't know how. For the record, Paul is exactly 5.4 billion times better with kids than I am.

Q: How are you feeling?
A: I feel fine, thank you for asking.

Q: Did you get sick?
A: Not really, I just felt queasy and icky for a few months, but I never threw up. I lost my appetite for normal foods but never got tired of dessert. Go figure. (PS: SEND MORE DESSERT.)

Q: But I thought you said you were never going to have kids!
A: I never said that. I may have misdirected you, but I didn't lie. I think it went something like this "Are you going to have kids?" "I'm going to have puppies!" Actually, come to think of it, maybe it was a lie, because so far I don't have a puppy either. Dammit.

Q: But I just can't see you having kids.
A: I KNOW! Isn't it crazy? What a plot twist! What will they think of next?!

Q: I think you'll be a great mom.
A: That is so sweet, even though I can hear your teeth gritting. I have my doubts, but I assume we all do. Actually, I hate people who are just perfect at something the first time they try. I expect messes and mistakes. And cupcakes. And maybe later, therapy.

UQ (Unasked question): May I touch your belly?
A: OH HELL NO. And you really should have asked first, because I am vacillating between totally creeped out and blind violent rage right now that you touched me. Ask yourself first:
  1. Do I know this person well enough that I normally find it ok to touch her belly with no permission?
  2. Hey I heard womens' boobs grow during pregnancy too. Maybe I should grab those too?
OK, so seriously, no, unless you are close enough to me that you could normally get away with putting your hand on my belly. That would be my husband, and maybe my family.
If I have a kicking baby and say "hey wanna feel?" then yes, but otherwise, NO.
Remember, if I accidentally slap you, I can always just blame the hormones. What's your excuse?

Q: Can we talk about something other than your pregnancy?
A: YES! PLEASE! Truth be told, this has very little to do with me. It's not like I ordered parts yesterday, or like you should applaud me for negotiating a truly great deal on baby toes last week, or working out a successful project plan artfully balancing the triple constraints of time, money, and other people's bullshit. Getting knocked up wasn't a huge accomplishment (I can tell you how, if you're curious), and at this point, it's just sort of happening. I'm not going to be massaging this on my resume to say something like "Drove cardiovascular system building to completion on time and under budget while growing fetus 180% in three weeks" or whatever. I'm told this thing has, like, a nose, and lungs, and stuff, and I don't remember working on that part.
You know, let's talk about successes at work (I didn't cry at my desk once on Friday, despite being abandoned by my boss), or falling off of our dirtbikes, or that quilt I'm supposed to be working on, shall we? Or how great it will be when I can finally have beer again.

Saturday, May 08, 2010

I'm Going This Way!

We have known all along that I was pregnant, confirmed in late January. The due date is something like October 6. As of Tuesday, I'm 18 weeks pregnant. I could have waited longer to tell people since mostly the only people I see anymore are work folks, but I was starting to feel bad about it.

Here's the thing: I don't just want to talk about being pregnant. (people who can only talk about their kids drive me up the wall) In fact, so far, I don't really like the pregnancy bit. It's just a necessary means to an end we chose.

I went through most of my life pretty sure I was not interested in having children. And I got a lot of patronizing comments. I would change my mind. (I didn't). My biological clock would start ticking. (It didn't). When I met the right man, blah blah blah. Well, maybe. It was assumed that my lack of interest in children was a mark of immaturity, that I would, at some biologically determined time, "grow out of it" and become obsessed with breeding like everyone said.

It was insulting.

Paul is really good with kids-- he loves them, and they love him back. I think he'd make a great father and I'm excited about that. I think about how much I love my dad, and I think paul will be the kind of dad some kid will love too.

I'm not so sure about myself, but it's not really the point. Kids make me awkward, and they can smell my fear. Babies hold even less interest for me. Don't even get me started about their parents... sometimes the parents are even worse than the little children (something I learned doing large events with Girl Scouts-- sometimes the kids are more patient and understanding than their harpie helicopter parents)

But it's not the point, whether I changed my mind or not. I'm not sure I ever made my mind up. People assumed I would never have kids, but I don't think I ever said as much. Like a lot of things in my life, it's just another path to be on. I still have a pretty nice vision of how nice it has been, and would be, to go without children. It doesn't strike me as an empty place at all. In fact, I have a lot of dreams and goals that lie firmly on this path. I really enjoy my me time-- I think I'm pretty selfish. I want to have the freedom to drop what I'm doing and travel, go on a long ride through the desert on my little dirtbike, take that unmarked road through the Lost Coast, spend my savings on a trip to Italy.

But I can see the other side too.

There will be a different set of dreams and goals and mileage markers on this path-- many I couldn't even imagine. Never one to keep with the comfortable, I am ready to go into the uncharted territory, to slap some sharks. I can't wait to see how we change and grow, and who we become. We'll be the same, but different. I already know who we are now.

When I was in 7th Grade, we had to memorize this poem. I'm sure you've heard it, but unlike me, probably can't recite it in the shower:


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

~Robert Frost

Most people think this poem is titled "The Road Less Traveled," and assume the title refers to the teller's picking the more adventurous path that was less known. We're rugged individualists, us Americans, and we often interpret this as a glorification of taking of on an untraveled road, screw those conformists!

Maybe. But maybe, with its actual title, it could refer to the other road, the one he didn't take, the one popularly assumed to be common and pedestrian. I don't know why the one path is always assumed to be common and predictable while the other is the glorified adventurous one, since he says they are really about the same, and equal. I think the point is that he can only take one, and therefor never really know whether the other was as good, better, more adventurous, etc.

He just had to pick one. And that meant there was one he left not traveled.

You just have to pick one too.

I don't get very interested in most poetry, but this one has stuck with me all my life.
I've looked down both of these roads as far as I can, and they both look beautiful and adventurous. This one is just as fair, and having perhaps the better claim, because it's a little less of the same to me, and maybe a little more challenging. In the end, maybe I like Frost, can smugly look back on what a great decision I made. I hope we all can, no matter what decision we made. Either way it must have been the right one. Either way we'll be taken in ways we can't see now, but when we look back on them, we'll be so please we took the "right" path. In truth, either one was just as right, and in general we don't even know what we missed on the other one, but we're absolutely sure it couldn't have held a candle to the one we took. Thankfully we even believe that most of the time. We don't have any other choice unless we want to live our lives in second-guessing and regret (come to think of it, I've known people who spend lots of time sadly pondering about what might have been... LAME!)

I've always gotten the most enjoyment out of my stupidest ideas anyway? Hello Cal24, Sheetiron, Lost Coast without a map!

From 2003.05.17 SHEETIRON

(me after crashing like 6 times in 20 minutes. I should have been crying at this point, as I was clearly totally unable to handle the spot I had gotten myself in. However, I had entrusted James who said I could do this thing, and so I did, regardless of whether I should.)

Thursday, May 06, 2010

We've Exploded!

Lifestyle bloat?

As of yesterday, we have:
6 motorcycles
4 sewing machines
2 cars
1 dog
~80% of a cat

some of these are borrowed. Still, what happened to our lightweight little lives?

Sunday, May 02, 2010

Oh, and another thing!

Oh, right. And I'm pregnant.

There, I said it.

ZOMG! More news!

It is the coming of the pockyclypse!

We bought a car!
From 2010

From 2010

We actually did this at a used car dealership, which sounded very unappetizing to both of us. We did a bunch of research and found what we wanted, and it was at Capitol Honda in San JOse. We braced for the very worst, since neither of us likes salespeople and used car salespeople don't exactly have the best reputation, but actually it was Not That Bad (tm). It did take a long time today of sitting in the office and all that, but it's done now, and we are all set to go driving around parking lots really slowly with our blinker on, merging onto the freeway at 25 mph, and lane-changing motorcyclists! woot.

Now I just, uh, need to learn how to drive... (small details!)