'ello, loves.

Right. Just popping in to share the fabulously-cheekboned, famous British versions of Shirley & me.

More cuteness at the ever fab Project Rungay.

p.s.: If you make us cross, then we look like this:

So let me just start this post by admitting I know these feelings are totally selfish and self-centered (which is, hello, part of my arguement for why I shouldn't be reproducing yet/ever), but a big part of my baby apprehension is straight up fear and grossness. It's easy for me to get caught up thinking of baby girl pigtails and hot pink tights with Mary Janes or little boys in cowboy boots, but anytime someone starts in on gross things happening to the waist-al area, I am ready to tuck and run.

It's not that I didn't know gross beautiful things happen, but after watching this movie with Shirley, and then reading this post from the great MODG, I am extra-super-terrified. For like, five minutes, the Ricki Lake movie made me want to give birth in a kiddie pool in Shirley's back yard (she has an awesome set up, that one) with puppies and rainbows with only a Skittle sugar high to buffer the pain, but then I reverted back to my Betty Draper, wake-me-when-it's-over fantasy. Maybe. Probably. Sorry, Shirley.

sweet dreams

so i stalk the fertility friend message boards regularly, and most of it is just tiresome to read. mostly people ask for other people to look at their charts and give them some glimmer of hope that they could be pregnant and the other folks seem to ask run-of-the-mill questions that they could just as soon google or read about in any fertility book ever made.

i digress.

the other day a gal posted about a dream she had that really was nice and a good thing to remember for anyone TTC. here's a bit of what she wrote:

[ I realized for me the most difficult part is people’s attempts to be supportive that just aren’t what I need to hear. You know the “you need to relax.” Or ““someone I know knows someone who….. And the end is they got pregnant without trying, timing, or taking medication.”

So this morning I woke and remembered my dream from last night. All these people in my life who are helpful and loving people came up to me and started to give me all this advice. In the dream I put a huge sticker over their mouths that read, “I care about you and I am trying to help.” Then I could just ignore what they were actually saying and read the message. Then for each person I hugged them and thanked them for their caring. The next thing was that all the women I know who have gotten pregnant since I’ve been trying came around with their big bellies. As I started to feel jealous and envious, I put a sticker on their tummies that read, “This is not the last baby, and yours is still waiting.” Then I had this new ability to be happy for them and not be so consumed with my own feelings.]

Long time, no Laverne

What have I been doing since we last spoke, kittens? Why, buffing my nails, lazing about, and stuffing myself silly with beer and pizza, enjoying the selfish spoils of a child-free (is that term designed to make you feel guilty, or is it just me?) existence.

I'm only partially kidding (the beer and pizza thing is oh so true). Work is getting hectic (in both good and bad ways), husband's schedule is constantly taking him out of town again, and two friends are about to get hitched--which means there have been 80 billion eating parties. But life is good. When it comes to the Baby War, I am still the scared foil to the excited Shirley. But I am rooting for her with the strength of 1,000 openly laboring Ricki Lakes.

I have been reading a pretty interesting book, y'all. I can't remember where I first heard about it, but it's a collection of essays from Salon.com debating the shoulds/shouldn'ts of parenthood. The first section is the firm "nos," the middle is the waverers, and the end (which I just started) is the eventual yesses. There are some pretty intelligent folk here saying some pretty ballsy things--things that I felt guilty for thinking and placing in the "reasons not to do this" category. Nothing is changing my mind at this point--I'm fickle, sure, but not that fickle--but it feels good to know I'm not alone in this estrogen-centric world.

Check it out (literally. The liberries need your help) and let me know what you think:

Maybe Baby: 28 Writers Tell the Truth About Skepticism, Infertility, Baby Lust, Childlessness, Ambivalence, and How They Made the Biggest Decision of Their Lives - by Lori Leibovich

sorry for the break....

i got distracted.

i know i should really work on a better excuse than that but there you go.

life has been chugging along as usual lately... my job has introduced me to some new crazy people and some new lovely people... my hubs has been sweeter and sweeter every day which makes the babymakin' efforts much more enjoyable all around (not that he's ever really not sweet, but i guess i've just been sweeter!)... and the temperature outside feels like fall is coming which always makes me giddy.

as you can see from the previous post i got quite worked up with the charting and made myself a little manic about the whole thing. so this month i did the opposite and got super lazy. some days i could barely remember to take my temp and other days i could hardly force myself to type it in. i guess i just came to the conclusion that it's going to be a long journey so i better settle down and mellow out as to not drive myself and everyone else crazy.

well, that would be all good and well but look at what's happened as a result:

DOTTED CROSSHAIRS! bloody hell.

that means that i don't have sufficient data for FF to be certain of my ovulation date and so these crosshairs are just a guess... a guess! i mean, it looks like a pretty good guess and it's the one i would've made myself given my history of ovulation timing, but i don't like ambiguity on my charts.

i guess it's just another life lesson in balance. i feel pretty strongly that i'm not jinxing anything to say this, but next month i'm going to be a little more on top of things and record my temps and my CM but try to do it in a relaxed way.

how hard can that be, right?!

ha.

When I see your dotted crosshairs, this is all I can think about (tip of the day: do NOT Google image search "hunting rabbits." You will barf. And then you will cry):

oh god! now i want nothing else than to google that term just because you told me not to.......

again with the crazy....

i'm so sorry. i know it's probably boring to anyone else but me but i am CONSUMED with thoughts of pregnancy and have an addiction to staring at my chart and comparing it to other people's charts - it's a problem and i think i may need a support group.

hi, my name is shirley and i am a chart addict. (hi, shirley.)...... sigh.

so here's the deal. my chart is looking **good** -- like we did the deed when we were supposed to and my temps are high and as of today my chart almost leads me to believe it's triphasic (!!!) and when i compare it to other charts that end in pregnancy my heart flutters.

for example:

my line is the purple one and the mysterious pregnant girls whose charts these are have the green line

see what i mean?! one would think that i am right on track to pee on a stick and get a positive result. well...

i did and i didn't.

and yes, it's early still (early like "i'm a fool for wasting that test" early) but i can't help myself!

here's the real kicker: i have no symptoms. none. zip. zilch.

well, that's not entirely true. i have had freaky dreams and some weird cramping in my uterine area. i'm eating everything in sight and taking naps. but in all honesty, those last two are just an everyday occurrence for me! oh, and i did freak out and cry a lot yesterday... but i think that was reasonable with all of the pressure i've been under with 5 new clients trying to get in on my schedule in the past week and my mom & sister just now telling me my niece's 3rd birthday party is this weekend when i've already promised myself to a friend's bday celebration on the same day... i feel like such a bad auntie :(

anyway, i just need to chill. why don't they make chill pills!?! oh wait, they do and they're called valium and i won't go near them! so i'm off to take another nap and stuff my face and wait anxiously to go to bed tonight so i can wake up tomorrow and check my temp. and i swear to god, if it continues to rise there will be no home pregnancy test that will be safe from me peeing on it!

this is going to get expensive.

ps - that evil bitch, fertilityfriend.com, has added unnecessary fuel to the fire by telling me that if i am by some long shot preggers then my due date is my birthday. bitches.

Confidential to Shirley:

Do you think this should happen to my hair? ChiRi and I both have giant faces. Love the color, too.

http://www.haironthebrain.com/2010/08/christinas-bob/

(she's all, like, whatevs)

me thinks this would be most adorable on you... but are you also talking about growing out le bangs? i think it's best without them quite frankly... cause with the bangs straight across and the short bob-ness you (meaning most folks) run the risk of looking pie-faced if you add too much volume to the cut and then shorten your face by having bangs take up your forehead.

see how even reese sweeps them to the side. (is it just me or doesn't she look like she's listening to the schizo voice inside her head here and plotting to kill us all with a smile?!)

also note that ChiRi has her's curled at the bottom so it's not actually as short as it appears in this photo - so make sure your stylist knows which length you are actually asking for (pre-curl or post-curl).
and yes, the color of ChiRi's hair is lovely - lighter than yours but not washed out. keep in mind this would maybe require more than just highlights to achieve the overall look so it might get expensive.
i say go with the cut first and then color later.
hope i've helped, L!

Shark week

Let's cut the shit, ladies. I'm not going to sugar coat it. This is how I am feeling today:

But it's not your fault, y'all. Just wallowing in my grumpy PMSness, which has been really weird this month. I didn't actually get into the game until yesterday, but last week was spent with severe headaches and sadness--a whole week early. This week (up until today, obvs) has been puppies and rainbows and smugly healthful eating. Today there needs to be pizzas, purple couches, and Real Housewives. Instead there may be coworker facemurder.

See, there's this big project that I've been working on for 9 months. It's my work baby. My work baby with fetal alcohol system and an extra 10 lbs brought on my stress eating/research. Work baby is in the final stages of labor right now, but it's not a peaceful home birth with tubs and yoga balls. It's a mother-effing, worn-off-epidural having, cuss word screaming, annoyance fest. And the end results look like it took someone 5 minutes to throw together. But it's almost done, which means I'll have to find something else to complain about. -- L

why am i crazy all the time?!

i have guests coming to stay with me from out of town and i'm excited and stressed. we moved into our house a year ago and there is still so much i want and need to do to it. i know that just like our bodies, we ladies can also be hyper-critical of our homes - we see all of the little imperfections that no one else notices....except if you are like me, you have the annoying habit of pointing them out and apologizing for them which only makes them more apparent.

ME: look at my giant zit! omg! don't look in the fridge, i need to clean it out! ugh! my cuticles are so gross! i was going to paint this bathroom before you got here but i didn't have time so forgive me! (and on, and on, and on.....)

so even though my guests are my childhood friend and her girlfriend who are moving cross country and will probably just be excited to have a bed to sleep in and take a load off, i have been freaking the eff out and painting and rearranging and scurrying around like a squirrel on meth. today i attempted to paint the tiny little half bath that no one even goes in and while my friends are here they probably will only glance in when i give the initial house tour - this makes sense right?! a totally appropriate use of my time and energy?!

no.

and here's the kicker. i did it (for the most part - it still needs a second coat) and i don't like it.

so will i leave it? let it be until next week when i have more time to reassess and repaint?

no.

tomorrow i will freak out and go to home depot and in my limited time between appointments i will attempt to paint a bathroom no one ever uses.

god help me.

How do I love Shirley? Let me count the ways

It's not been the best week for our girl Shirley, so let's lift her up in praise (as the crazies say down here). When I saw these, I wanted to immediately rush out and get us matching ones...how cute are they?

[nouveau friendship bracelets from J Crew]

...until I saw that they start at $130 and realized we could A) make them ourselves for like, $0.43, and B) I've spent $400 at the vet on the World's Best Cat in the past month (and $200 on the world's best phone) [Jesus. Need to stop spending money.] So maybe what we really need is this:

or this:

Here are today's three reasons why I admire Shirley, the jelly to my (crunchy) peanut butter:

1) she nursed me through a really bad breakup with my now husband. It was 2000, I was 21, and the world was ending. Thanks to Shirley, matte burgundy lipstick, Bjork, the shores of Lake Michigan, and enough wine that would kill my now 31 3/4-year old body.

2) she has not let a sometimes-not-happy start in life get in her way. She is a joyous, grateful, silly, fun, loving person. Same goes for her man-partner in crime. It can happen.

3) she has the best sense of style of anyone--even stupid Pomeranian Anna Wintour. Example: You could see S wearing a space helmet and be all like, "WTF, space helmets??" And then you'll see shitty knock off space helmets at Target in 9 months. S knows what's going to happen before it happens. And she looks good while it happens. She is the Miss Cleo of fashion trends. Respect.

THANK YOU! I LOVE YOU TOO LAVERNE!

Response to the parental happiness debate

I can't stop thinking about this post and the related NY Mag article. I'm still stagnant on my own feelings, but have really enjoyed seeing both arguments thoughtfully play out in various Internetty spots.

From Vanity Fair (one of my fav mags, and not just for the rich people porn): This quickie is meant to incite discussion, I reckon, and doesn't really conclude much. But I liked this from the comments: Why do Americans overthink everything? Why do they involve themselves in everyone else's business? I'm not suggesting to become a parent if you aren't emotionally and financially prepared, but please! It's innate to procreate and a marvel to be a parent even if it is the hardest job you'll ever have. It's the highest highs and the lowest lows etc and so on. I had a child because I love them and knew I would love being a mom but also don't feel I have to justify it to anyone. "Because I felt like it" is the only answer that's appropriate to an inappropriate question. Period, full stop.

From NPR: A father's perspective

And, finally, (save this one for when you need a good cry/comeapart) an amazing blog linked from one of my favorite fun blogs: One woman's perspective on how motherhood has brought her a different kind of happy.

As for me, I'm still on the childless side of the fence, but only slightly. Heading off to a meeting at my work, which I know would be super frowny about babies in my belly.

Happy Monday, y'all--

xo, L

i might bludgeon my husband. seriously.

he's doing that thing where he makes me feel like we live in an uber-lame-o sitcom like Everybody Loves Raymond or something. [I think you guys are more "Mork & Mindy"--said with much affection and a hazy memory]

he's in the living room watching a horror movie (i despise horror movies.) and i am trying my very best to enjoy non-killing (tv or real life) internet time alone because i already know that i have PMS symptoms and i need to be put on self-imposed lockdown in order to at least make a futile attempt at avoiding complete and utter bitchitude. FAIL. so i'm back here minding my own business reading other people's business and he keeps coming back here... to see what i'm doing... to tell me how is effing stomach hurts.... and then he's back again in five minutes to tell me he's decided the culprit is the cheese he put on his sandwich.... and then he's back again in five minutes to tell me that if he doesn't feel better before we go to a friend's house in a little while that he doesn't think he'll be drinking tonight.... and then he's back to tell me the dog peed on the rug! and i cannot. take. it. any. more. and i finally break into bitchitude and throw up my hands and ask if he came back here just to update me (cause i really don't need a fucking update!) or if he's informing me so that *i* will go and clean it up..... and then he gets all doe eyed and put-out at the same time and is like "why are you so snappy?!"

here's why i'm snappy folks:

PMS sucks. mine does fo' sho. and what sucks more than that is when you have baby-makin on the brain and your PMS symptoms are eerily similar to pregnancy symptoms:

• tender breasts
• fatigue
• IRRITABILITY
• food cravings
• skin breakouts
• bloating
• constipation
• ... etc - you get it

(mother nature: i love you most of the time, i really do. but right now you can just go suck a lemon. that is all.)

it's all too easy to say you are going to be logical and not convince yourself of the near impossible but daaay-um if that's not, well, nearly impossible. i know i'm not preggers. i know it's PMS. and yes, i'm snappy.

deal with it.

i have to.

EDIT: i am not even kidding you. he just came in here to tell me the movie is over and that it was dumb.... and that his stomach still hurts.

i didn't kill him. i deserve a medal.

"ch-ch-ch-ch-check it out, check it out" ~ the beastie boys

i've discovered ZDubs blog Raising Colorado and let's just say i'm a fan. she's added to the blogroll.

(i'm just sayin', i might cyber stalk her.)

the slippery slope

for all of you dirty minds out there i want you to know that i'm not talking about that kind of slippery slope!....

wait. okay... well, yeah, i kinda am - here goes!

i am a fertility junkie. it's official and i want a badge - cause i am damn good at graphing and charting and obsessing over the little things like slight dizziness, being tired, and most of all observing the state of my cervix. thus far i have purchased ovulation predictor kits (OPKs if you are down with the fertile-lingo), a basal thermometer, prenatal vitamins and b6 supplements, and i've checked ridiculous piles of books out from the library that concern baby-making. i stalk blogs and am *constantly* logged onto the good ole fertility friend site and i look at and adjust my chart no less than 40 times a day.

i totally see why MoDG referred to it as "fertility frenemy"... cause that one, she's a bitch! (FF not MoDG - just to be clear!) don't get me wrong, i am in love with it but damn if it doesn't make me cra-zay!

rather, i make myself crazy. see, i started charting about half way through my cycle so it's really anyone's guess as to how to interpret the information i've gathered thus far since there is really nothing to compare it to.... and that's exactly where the trouble begins! i can change any number of variables and the interpretation of my chart changes drastically with it. i can spent countless hours doing this, no problem! but here's the thing: i love it! i can't wait to get up every day to check my temp and signs and add the info to the chart - so. much. fun! (keep in mind i am also the girl who loved to play school and secretary as a kid - if you let me organize and have white out, gem clips, staplers and highlighters, i will do ANYTHING for you. except your taxes. i fucking hate taxes.)

now, i must interrupt this post to show you that i am going to be a terrible/wonderful mom should the day ever arrive:

terrible, because after i found this mess:

i just took pics and let them go back to tearing up toilet paper because it just made them so effing happy.
and wonderful, (if i do say so myself), because i just took pics and let them go back to tearing up toilet paper because it just made them so effing happy. [there's no part of you that's going to be terrible. you've just illustrated pure awesomeness.]

i'm off to chart-obsess now. (my next mission is to get L off the birth control pills so she can't start charting too! then i'll have TWO charts to obsess over! hooray!) [I seem to be slipping further away from the charting realm, but I am so excited about your charts that it's sorta counts. Just think of it as if you are charting for two.]

Big boobies, ho.

Let's take a baby break, shall we, and talk about another "b" word dear to our hearts: boobies. Yes, a 31-year-old woman just called her breasts "boobies." Not "breasts" (calling to mind overly horomone-laden chickens) or "titties" (NEVER "titties." BARF). (On rare occassion, I like "boosom"...) Anyway, I've got big'uns. And not in a bragging, check out my hot shit way. No, in a "they must be dealt with" on a daily basis way. In moments of higher self-esteem, I like to think I'm pulling this type of shit off:

(yes ma'am!)

But most days it feels more like this:

(no, ma'am!)

Now, before Shirley starts in, you should know she has the teeniest, cutest little figure and can wear whatever she wants. She always. looks. good (hush, girl). (fine, i will do what my good southern mama told me and just say thank you!) My fellow mega-mammarians must always consider the boobage factor: How often will I be yanking up my top in front of my in-laws? Will a stressed out button pop free and blind a small child? Why do larger bras only come in grandma styles? This (re: saggage) isn't going to end well, is it? Well, here's what I've learned that helps:

1) v-neck/scoop-neck tops/dresses: This doesn't mean you need to slut it up (though, hey, Anthropologie, way to make all of your tops necessitate bulky camisoles underneath). See our girl Joan up there? Though she looks amazing overall, that crew neck isn't doing her chestal largess any favors. Gotta go with a scoop, J-Ho.

2) 3/4-length sleeves: dunno quite why, but this helps mitigate the boobage. Maybe it's because shorter sleeves stop right at boob-level like an unwelcome beacon in the night? Yeah, that's probably it. And skip the spaghetti-strapped tank tops, unless you're A) able to magically hold them up sans bra (which means I hate you) and B) going for a Hooters waitressy vibe. (More power to you)

3) wrap dresses are your friend (Diane von F, I wish you were my actual friend), as long as you can get the V part to close enough (as I learned the hard way, carefully concealed safety pins are not the answer). And have faith that it won't come unwrapped at inopportune moments (opportune moments are a whole other reason to go with the wrap dress).

4) minimizer bras: they somehow shove that shit underneath your armpits, but not in a noticeable way, hopefully. I like the Olga Christina line, which is slightly less MeeMaw than other options.

I guess none of these are huge revelations, but you'd be surprised at all the boob infractions I witness on a daily basis. Someone should give me a badge. And a taser gun. A badge and a taser gun, yes.

(again: yes ma'am!)

xo,

L

down the rabbit hole

alright.

i'm gonna do it.

i am going to begin the evil and obsessive practice of charting and using a basal thermometer and probably even buy this guy:

(so cute! It should announce your results in a girly robot voice.)
i know the above may seem like overkill and i should just start with some charts on paper but that is NOT how i roll. i am a go-go-gadget-girl and i will find an excuse to buy any sort of electronic device (or robot) that you can imagine... and i want this one! i even discussed it with my husband ("P") and made him go look at the pee stick ovulation tests in the pharmacy and after making a plea about how expensive and wasteful they are he agreed that i could/should buy this thing. (eeeek -!!!) (!!!) (what will we call her? Patience? Faith? Bernice?)

i have also signed up at fertilityfriend.com thanks to MoDG and this post. i mean, GRAPHS AND CHARTS?! i loooove graphs and charts almost as much as robots! i am stoked, people - like, all caps S.T.O.K.E.D!

however, here is what i am unstoked about: once you officially start "trying" you are "trying" and i am really worried that i'll become obsessive and sad and that once i see all of the facts in front of me i'll no longer be able to brush off the fact that we are babyless - which up until now hasn't been a big deal but i'm a stubborn girl and i am used to working hard for what i want, not stopping til i get it, and feeling very justified and proud when i do. this will be a huge lesson in patience and humility for sure.

i went ahead and looked at the foster kids for adoption in our state and teared up. i am such an asshole for wanting to have my own kid when so many others desperately need homes.... don't argue with me - it's truth. (I am arguing with you, because this is totally untrue. And the Internet is here to protect me.)

selfish.selfish.selfish.

and who knows, maybe that's what we'll end up doing. maybe i'll have a 12 yr. old next year... but i'm getting ahead of myself... (sorry, as I know it's for serious and not funny, but that is a really funny mental image.)

for now, charts and graphs and robots.

for later, consider other options.

for never (?), obsessing, crying, pity.

(for always: me, you, cheese, and wine [and whine and cheesiness]. xo-L)

-- shirley

Dear Uterus, JUST DO IT! Love, Nike

Having the baby conversation with two of my clients/friends who have teenagers and know plenty well the pains in the asses kids can be (and as they send theirs off to private colleges, how expensive too), the conversation ended just as quickly as it began when both basically told me to shut up and just do it already. I hear this a lot. (because it's so easy and simple and inexpensive, right?)
And it's okay from them because I love and respect them and know the place they are coming from but
you wanna know what else I hear a lot and am not so cool with?!: "When are you going to have a baby?" "It's about time you had a little one!" "You look like a natural holding that baby *wink*"..., and a multitude of other ways people basically look at me and say "TICK TOCK!" (we've discussed this, but people are so effing rude. What if were uterusless [awesome new word, btw]? Also, when did the world determine there weren't enough people on the planet? We are not facing an infant shortage the last time I checked.)
Well guess what folks?! It may not be up to me. My body may not be on board that baby train... ever. I think that if I am completely honest, half the time I have an outward debate about choosing or not choosing to have a baby or defend the fact that I don't already have one, I am stalling. I put up these defenses because it is socially unacceptable for me to blurt out that for the past nine months we've given it a go (albeit half-heartedly) and nada is happening.
Why do I have to be the one who feels uneasy and socially awkward when *they* are the ones asking me ridiculously personal questions like they are asking me if I like chocolate or vanilla icecream (I like both, FYI). (you are wrong. it's vanilla, clearly.)
I think I like the comedianne Megan Mooney's reply "Well, we tried five times last night". She reasons that if they are going to make her uncomfortable, she has the right to make them feel uncomfortable as well. (yes! would love to see the looks of discomfort on their faces!)
Ah yes, if only we could make the decision and then instruct my baby-making parts to "just do it"... if only.
--Shirley

-- Post From My iPhone

Take a good hard look at the muthafuckin' boat

L here. About to peace out to the husband's family lake house an hour north of our mysterious city. Lots of chips and beer to consume this weekend, which is not much different than most of my weekends, albeit in a different setting.

Here's what I've been wondering since Shirley and I started this here blog a few nights ago: Can we actually do this? This bloggal continuity thing? (yes!) I tried to have a wedding blog, but it lasted about 3 entries before I gave it up in favor of watching more Real Housewives. There's probably a devoted reader somewhere thinking I never got married and died. Turns out I'm both self absorbed enough to think this *and* lazy.

To baby or not to baby? That is the effing question that S and I have both been tossing around (and I promise that this blog won't be solely about our actual ovaries). And the answer is different every. single. second. I'm going to drive myself mad--or wherever you go when you pass mad. I realize I am only 31 3/4, but that's like being 77 in the eyes of the young baby momma'ed South.(you are one hot old lady.) I do this maddening should I/shouldn't I dance with everything though. I am equally crazed right now about whether to go with a white or black iphone. I mean, whether to volunteer at the humane society or the old folk's home. That's what I meant.

In classic obsessive style, here are the pros/cons:

Get that baby in mah belly:

• Cute clothes (i cannot wait to sew baby clothes.. yours or mine or both...)
• Be one less mom out there who is into monogrammed/smocked shit (ditto. but don't tell my mom.)
• Baby coos/grunts (yummmmmmm)
• That whole half you/half husband thing (also a con on some days) (this is the most convincing "pro" for me because i really want/need to see the combo in real life - will be fabulous!)

• Snapping myself out of my selfish existence (please. you give so much to people you love! not.selfish.)
• love love love (right?) (probably. unless your kid's an a-hole - kidding!)
• Our parents would loose their shit (in a good, not literal way) and be the best grandparents ever. We are so so lucky. (you really are... and don't you ever regret it. ever.)

No babies, kthx:

• They could turn into assholes just like me. (stop with this "i'm a selfish a-hole bit. you aren't!)
• Loss of ability to sleep late/nap (okay, this is a con and i have nothing to say to the contrary - naps rule! babies drool.)
• General selfishness (am I too settled in my ways to be anything but?) (yeah, it would be a major shift of energy and attention away from your own wants and needs... and i think this would be the toughie for both of us....)
• I'd have to make actual nutritious dinners every night (no Cheeto'ed Brittney baby for me). (dude! i think if we do this we should attempt to try to do it as close together as possible because i think we could greatly benefit from each other's strengths. i am STOKED on the idea of making some baby food... now adolescent food? i dunno.... i grew up eating "Kid Cuisine's" and i am a beautiful genius!)
  remember that shit?!

• What if I hate it? (wait, the kid or the act of parenting? cause i'm pretty sure you can't hate the kid but you most definitely will hate parenting like 80% of the time after about age 4 or 5...)
• A trifecta of suck for 9 months: no wine, sushi, or feta (or justifying that by thinking about how most Italian, Japanese, and Greek people have turned out ok) (they have... and rules are for suckas and made to be broken. everything in moderation.)
• Crazy huge(r) boobs that will take over the planet (or, most likely, the ground) (not gonna lie. i'm scared of your mammaries' potential for largeness as well.)
• What if I screw it up? (who *hasn't* screwed it up? i mean, nobody's perfect whether they are parents or not.)

If you read the post below, you'll see my homegirl has a much more mature, less self-centered view on this matter.

(And now I have totally effed up the font on this post, which means Shirley is gonna kill me.) (fixed it!)

give it to me NYMag

I'm sitting in the coffee shop getting ready to read this article:

Let's see how this goes.

-- Shirley

-- Post From My iPhone

S: What did you think? I read it when it first came out, and it definitely didn't send my ovaries singing. It seemed to mainly argue just one side, but it certianly didn't help my wavering. Here it is online. Would love if some mamas could weigh in: http://nymag.com/news/features/67024/ - xo, L

I had read the book they referred to in the article (Stumbling on Happiness by Daniel Gilbert) and was prepared for the argument against parenthood, so to speak, and so I wasn't surprised. I actually had an interesting conversation along these lines with our guy friend who swears he is never going to reproduce and I too called on that book but in a much different way. The book basically comes to the conclusion that we (humans) are terrible at foreseeing what will actually make us happy and that the best way to choose happiness is to actually take the input of others and their experiences into account -- the #1 reason we don't do this is because we all believe that we are somehow special and that we will surely make better decisions than others. So when the dude and I were having this conversation I gave the argument that I don't know a single parent who would tell me that they wish they had never had their children... and since we already know what a childless life looks and feels like but we won't know what a life with children would look like until we tried it for ourselves we would just have to take their word for it and trust that it is indeed the miraculous, wonderful, growing, enlightening experience everyone exclaims... otherwise we run the risk of being arrogant, and possibly naive enough, to call all of those people we love and know (and maybe even admire) either bold faced liars or imply they are just plain dumb.

so I think I want to do it and yet I am still holding onto the notion that the majority of parents I see today ARE "wrong"... here I sit still convinced that I/we can do it *better*! I am not ready to give up the idea that my sweet, patient husband and I can make a happy life with a happy child. I'm not ready to buy into the idea that parenthood will suck the life out of us or our marriage. I simply think that it will be comparing apples and oranges. How can one expect a new life with a new person in it to be measured by the old life with just the two of us running around doing whatever we want, whenever we want?! it's ludicrous!

(ahhh, luda!)

Isn't the whole point of choosing to change your life actually changing your life?! I wouldn't expect it to be the same and I wouldn't expect the happiness to look or feel the same.

Contrary to the title of the article, I think we could love a child AND love our lives.

Here are the three top reasons why:

- Our marriage is strong and we are happy, actually HAPPY people. I bet if you asked those same parents polled in the article if they were essentially happy people before they ever had children you might just find that those who were unhappy before were unhappy after and that you'd also uncover that they held some glimmer of hope that their kids would make them happy... or complete... or even popular... or more interesting... or just normal in some way. I don't think we are lacking anything in our lives but I do think we have a lot to give.

- I have absolutely zero desire to "do it right"... I could give a fuck about the stressors most parents seem to place on themselves or their children (via the article: "As we gained in prosperity, childhood came increasingly to be viewed as a protected, priviledged time, and once college degrees became essential to getting ahead, children became not only a great expense but subjects to be sculpted, stimulated, instructed, groomed.") Two words: fuck. that.

- If we choose to have children, it will be that: a choice. We won't feel put upon by a life that chooses us but rather empowered by a life we choose for ourselves. I feel smarter now than ever and I am glad I am in my thirties and know myself well enough to know my strengths and weaknesses. I think that being your own person and knowing yourself is a huge advantage in parenting...

but what do I know - I'm not a parent.

S: Holy shit, sister. You're even more of a genius than I thought. And I'm such a flip flopper on this thing that I should have my ovaries locked up. xo, L

Hello World

First things first - Laverne is purple. Shirley is orange.

so L, why the blog?

Because I keep happening upon clever, witty pockets of the Internet populated by like-minded folk trying to make sense of their place in the world. And I want to be one of them, maybe.

Ok, S, what do you hope to accomplish with this here blog?

i'm not so sure i want to accomplish anything (maybe perk up my typing skillz....) but i really think that our conversations about life and the decisions we are making and the things we are mulling over are a shared experience for women our age and so i want to, well, share them. sounds dumb - but it's true.

now tell me more about these like-minded people...

Well, I started reading a bunch of infertility blogs, for some reason. Even though I'm not currently diagnosed as such. But the thing about these ladies is their eloquence and hopefulness. Common threads that pass beyond geography or money or age. And because I'm supposed to be a "word" person by trade, I think this blog might might give me a brain nudge to use my words. Why don't you describe me in 3 words? I'll do you first: driven, creative, sillysweet.

Damn! Reader(s) you should know this is intimidating because L is sitting right here and she's getting all heavy - lucky for me it's pretty easy to describe her (it's the 3 word limit that's the prob): L is lucious, grounded, and huggable.

i'm thinking that i should be just a little more specific about the "decisions we are making and the things we are mulling over are a shared experience for women our age" i was talking about earlier.... we are in our early thirties and are both really happy in our careers, no? and we are both happily married, no? and we are both trying to make decisions about starting families and such, no?

careers=yes (as long as I get to keep mine) married = yes (with occasional blips of annoyance that we all experience) families=argh (I dunno. My mind changes every day.) The one thing I want from our blog--even if no answers come clear--is honesty and to be us. Not pandering to 1,000 followers. We're not trying to get a book deal or a tv show (can you believe they're actually naming a tv show "Shit My Dad Says?") And oh yeah, we will say "shit" a lot. And even the f word. Because that's how we roll. Do you think we can actually keep this up?

you want me to talk about my inner confusion, possible babies, and the occasional annoyance of marriage and you want to ask me if i can keep it up? yeah, you know i can!

lastly, i'd like to clarify that we go by laverne and shirley on this blog and call ourselves "two secret girls" not necessarily because we are cowards but because we really hope that the cloak of anonymity will help us to be even more honest than we might otherwise be and we'll say the things other people are afraid to... that and we don't need everyone we see on a daily basis to read all the shit we plan to write about our ovaries.