"...All is quiet on New Year's Day..."
God, I fucking HATE that song! Every year it's the same thing. I wake up and think, "It's New Year's Day," then here comes that hateful song, unbidden and unavoidable, my annual earworm. I'm about to put some music on both to drown out that and the endless, nonstop fucking football commentary. I like when my husband is happy and excited, but his infatuation with the SEC runs my nerves pretty thin roundabout this time every year. But, bowl games. I understand. I'm not going to deny him his fun. I'm just going to live in other parts of the house all day or until it's over.
For the first time in years we went out for New Year's Eve. (Oh my God -don't...think...of...song...) It was alright, nothing spectacular. Friends of ours were having a smallish get together, cocktails and fancy food but casual dress. I'm not socially inclined to begin with, and the absolute worst moment for me is walking into a small party already in progress. Once that's over, I'm fine. The guys congregate around the TV which of course has a football game on and the women do food preparation-type things and sip drinks in the kitchen. Their house is nice and open, conducive to the kitchen and living room people interacting with each other.
So picture that scene, with me assisting with chopping vegetables next to a woman I'd never met before. We're making small talk and she seems nice. Out of nowhere she asks the question. You know the question. The one I am destined to get asked Every. Single. Time.
"So, do you all have kids?"
The hostess, knowing our situation, shoots me a quick apologetic look.
"Not yet. But we're trying." Then for comedic effect, I add "We're trying REALLY HARD AND REALLY OFTEN."
All noise ceases in the living room and the men all look up. Finally some guy says, "Well, that's a good way to do it." Awkward laughter ensues.
I just don't get it. I mean, it doesn't bother me so much now that we're actively doing something about it and the odds are better than they've ever been, but I cannot FATHOM asking someone that question within seconds of meeting them. It's happened to me so many times for the nearly ten years we've been married.
Me: Hi, nice to meet you; this is my husband Brian.
Whomever: Do you have any kids?
What if, God forbid, we COULDN'T have kids. Like, no shot, ever. What if a woman wants to be a mother more than anything in the world and can't and is walking around heartbroken over it every day. WHY would you just bust right out with that question? I guess it's a social tool, an ice-breaker, searching to bond over something with someone new. Oh, you're a parent - me too! Isn't procreation the best ever? How many hours of labor did you have? Stretch marks and diapers and breast pumps, oh my!
As it turns out, this woman and her husband tried for twelve years before seeking treatment similar to what we're doing and were finally successful. That was nice to hear. Had we been talking for an hour or so already and the subject came up, I would've been much more receptive to discussing it and I did end up having a good conversation with her. Without everyone in the house listening in. We even found out we both work at the college; wow, cool. There's something in common that isn't such a personal matter - where do you work. At USC? Oh, I do too! Isn't the pay sucky but the paid vacation time great?
But I think I have it figured out. The next time someone asks me if I have kids I'm going to deflect the question with, "So, what's your favorite sexual position? I like starting with missionary and ending with doggie."
I mean if we're discussing babies and the making of, that's fair game right?
We were nervous about being out on one of the drunkest nights of the year, when the cops are just itching to fuck with as many people as possible. It's a thirty mile drive to their house, so we left at eleven to make it in before midnight. We saw no less than six cops on the way home, four of whom had people pulled over. It was nerve-wracking. He'd only had a couple of beers, but I had nothing but Sprite so I drove. Seeing all the law enforcement and blue lights flashing around us somehow spurred us to relive all the brushes we've had with the police in the past, including his most recent event two weeks ago, and how many times one or both of us could've easily ended up in jail. Here's a tip. That's not a great topic to discuss if you're trying not to be nervous. Have you ever been driving completely sober but still freaked out that you're weaving or doing something wrong? It was a big relief to get home. But sadly, we were stopped at the red light right outside our neighborhood when the clock struck twelve, having not made it home in time. We had a quick, barely on the lips, one eye on the road peck of a midnight kiss. Always keeping the romance alive, that's us.
On a high note, my friend (the party's hostess) got a ShamWow for Christmas so I finally got to see one. It's not very impressive looking, but we didn't try it out so I don't know.
"...And I want to be with you, be with you night and day..."