Here’s a couple of stories to commence and frame up the top of this post:
- Years ago, I had two good friends who had been together forever and they swore they’d never have kids. Bohemian lifestyle and travel and various career pursuits. They now have two daughters and the last time I visited their home, our other friend was hungover downstairs and the daughters were singing Frozen early on a Sunday morning and the downstairs friend yelled “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” That was heartening.
- I do this men’s workout group with some dudes (naturally) that I’ve been chasing for about two months now. I’m usually dead last in everything, but hey, I show up. On Friday mornings we sometimes do this “leadership discussion” at a coffee shop. Last Friday morning, one guy said — and I am not sure I agree with this, honestly — “Women have a natural urge to take care of children. Men have a natural urge to take care of women and children. Who has an urge to take care of men?”
- My wife turned 33 yesterday. Hardly ancient (I turn 41 in two weeks), and hardly the end of the fertility journey by any means, but when I asked her about goals for the year, she said “Be a mom,” and little else. That’s a little bit of pressure on me, no doubt, but I understand it. I came into her orbit four years ago, give or take, and most of her friends were starting to have kids…
