Resolved: Double strollers are cool and baby number 2 may be evil

Here’s a debate that goes through my head:

I want another baby.

No, Mona, you don’t want another baby.

I’m still young and full of life! I can handle another child!

Give me a break. You’re so tired when you come home from work, you can’t even make it through an episode of LOST.

Well, that’s because they switched the time to 10 o’clock! If they had kept it at 9, I would know what’s going on! And why aren’t people hairier? They are very smooth and attractive for not having shaving equipment around! And where’s Walt? And why hasn’t Hurley lost any weight?

What if the next child turns out to be like one of The Others or worse, Damien?

Then Nathan will have to enter the priesthood at 18 months so he can perform the exorcism. We’ll have to keep it in the family. Maybe then he can tell me what those polar bears were doing on an island.

Be honest, why do you really want to have another child?

Well, double strollers are kind of cool.

I don’t want another baby. But I want another baby. And this is how I’m flip-flopping in my mind. Chances are, we’ll be able to plan the next one, but Mike and I aren’t sure when that’ll be. Some days, we look at our slobbering child with Gerber puffs stuck to his face, who squeals and bah-bah-bahs at us and think, maybe we’re okay with just one. Nathan is so full of awesome and (generally) good health that the odds might not be in our favor in having another baby who loves cats (and their respective food) as well as his parents.

But the real issue here is that during a lunch-break stroll through Pottery Barn Kids at the U-Village, I was disgusted by their “Sail Away” room set. Obviously, no Pacific Islander was consulted when the design-for-the-rich team came together with a $2,695 Speed Boat Bed and Trundle. Why would I shell out almost 3K for a bed that looks like a boat. Why not buy a boat that could be used as a bed? Then when your child grows out of it, you can use it as a boat! And why are convertible cribs only used for beds afterwards? Why couldn’t you convert a crib into, say, a gazebo? An island kitchen? A complete set of the 1978 World Book Encyclopedia? My Nintendo GameBoy from 1988 with super high Tetris scores?

But no one asked me, which is why I return to the inner dialogue with my voice of reason, one who doesn’t think that double strollers are reason enough for another baby.

March 30, 2007 | Filed Under Nathan, family, motherhood | 9 Comments 

On the net, no one knows you’re a hovel

What is it about house hunting that reminds me of my ex-boyfriends? Discovering quaint real estate phrases like, “charming” and “starter home,” really mean “breadbox” and “hovel,” is much like realizing your starving artist boyfriend is an uneducated oaf who is very skilled at creating skulls and crossbones with Photoshop’s airbrush tool.

It’s disheartening.

I am inundated with collectors from Woulda, Coulda, and Shoulda, LLC, whose office is inside my head. Why didn’t I squirrel away every dollar I received from my baptism, First Holy Communion, confirmation and high school graduation? (Catholics make bank!) Why did I have to buy that knock-off Barbie doll with the interchangeable heads when I was eight and later at 18, why did I insist on purchasing the entire series of Planet of the Apes on DVD for Mr. LetMeJustFinishThisGame who had no job (unless you consider raising your Half-Life 2 ranking above ComradeBadger241 a serious career move)? Why Mona? Why didn’t you know to buy real estate when you were 14 and living on the other side of the Pacific Ocean? What do you mean you had to get an education first and you had absolutely no source of income? Wouldn’t you rather have a house than know the plot theories of Beowulf? You would at least know how to create skeletons on the computer.

And it doesn’t help that tonight we received a notice to move out in 10 days or comply. Comply with what, you ask? Well, that’s what I was what-the-effing. Apparently, our neighbor below is accusing us of banging our car doors into her car and dinging the side, even though the small glitch in her complaint is that she is never home when we park our car. But whining to the management is enough to get someone (almost) evicted, or at least put on record as not being very good neighbors. I learned enough about tenant law when I worked as a part-time apartment manager, so though this is just a warning and not a notice, it’s the first of many things that the folks below to make our lives hell. (Pregunta: how do we comply with something as baseless as preventing damage to a car that’s not even there? If you figure that out, you can help me in my quest to save endangered unicorns and stop the deforestation of Candy Land.)

But before we came home to the Get Out Now, Do Not Pass Go notice, Mike and I seriously considered two properties. One in West Seattle (thanks for the heads up, Alison!) and one in Burien. The West Seattle one shaves about ten minutes off of Mike’s commute and is located by a sweet elementary school, grocery store, and best of all, TARGET! But it needs work, particularly the landscaping and a lot of the exterior. Ahhh, but I think fondly of the location, something the Burien property sorely lacks. That house is small, but well maintained. It has a sliver of yard and a long strip of gravel driveway. The stacked washer and dryer is in the second bedroom. I’m not sure where we would fit the office. And though I’m sure I would have a similar spacing issue with the West Seattle home, I would have much more opportunity to expand. I couldn’t add onto the Burien home since it’s on a hill and well, the backyard is standing room only. I think I answered my own question.

It’s time to break up with this apartment. I’ve found someone else.

March 28, 2007 | Filed Under Seattle, home | 7 Comments 

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