Baby Names

We decided a while ago that we aren't having kids. We just don't want them, but my friends and family members just keep reproducing! I suppose that we need them to do so in order to go on, etc. I do have a point here. The point is that the sad, oddly disappointing, I don't really know thing about not having kids is letting go of the names I had picked out so long ago.

My two best friends are preggo and I was knocking around online looking for middle names for the upcoming girly, and it really is fun to do. It's not that it's really sad, because I really don't want kids at all. I guess it is just a form of vanity- you think that the names you have are so cool and your children will bear them with grace and dignity and the glory of your wise choice. I guess I'll have to stick with witty names for dachshunds.

In related news, we visited family this past weekend- there are 12 kids involved in that venture, including one who was only born last Wednesday. Mind you, these are all excellent kids, cool kids, fun to be around in short bursts, but they just confirm our decisions over and over again.

It's like I'm already 80 years old when a bunch of them are together. "No, you cannot climb on me." "No, I don't want to play. I'll watch." I feel a great freedom in being able to say 'no' because I don't have to prove anything. I'm not nannying these kids, they aren't students of mine, and everyone knows I'm a mean non-breeder, so I can let the "not good with kids" misconception fly.

Of course, my husband plays the Fun Uncle/Cousin card and runs around, yells, lets them climb on him, even attempts board games. This way, I'm sure there are knowing glances and conversations along the lines of, "Oh, he would be such a good daddy!" and then I'm the mean one hoarding her uterus and not letting my boy thrive, etc, whatever.

Basically, since women are "supposed" to want to have children, I am usually the focus of all conversations of the "Are you sure?" type and regrets and junk. It's like my husband had nothing to say in the matter, and I wrestled him down one night and snipped the giblets, cackling maniacally the whole time about the demise of the family name.

Have I blabbed on enough? I suppose so.