>I’m going to Paris in a few weeks. I went in April 2001 and loved it, and I’m looking forward to seeing it again. Lots of plans to make, lots of stuff to do, but I’m trying to keep it low stress. That’s the point of a vacation, right? To de-stress.
I feel like I’m taking a lot of trips and vacations lately – a weekend in San Francisco, another in LA, Las Vegas earlier this year as well as some of CA wine country, and just last year, I took a cross-country trip (granted, I was moving, but still…), went to Japan, and took a number of trips to NYC. But it’s not so much traveling, and frankly, I don’t do much else to spend tons of money, so it’s not hurting anything, right? I guess I’m feeling some guilt. But really, life is for living, and traveling makes me happy. I remember a quote from Anne of Windy Poplars…”I want to know, not just believe, that there are pyramids in Egypt.”
Other things…I had a conversation with an older co-worker about kids. I’m not sure how it all came up, but before long, I was confessing that even now, at 34, I’m not certain that I ever want kids. I’ve been married a year and a half, and at 34, I guess that it’s time to know, but…I don’t. I like kids and all, really, I do. I’ve two nephews and I love them dearly and enjoy every moment spent with them. But still…to have my own…I don’t know. I’ve known people who have kids that truly resent the child and the effect that being a parent had on their lives. I know that I don’t want that. I would rather live as a cool aunt for the rest of my life rather than indulge some notion that kids are something that I must do, then turn around and resent my baby for being born and cutting off my bar-hopping or whatever. Unfair doesn’t cover enough to express how terrible that kid must feel, and the parent as well. If I had a child, I couldn’t go to France in three weeks. Just couldn’t happen. Would I lug a baby (or toddler) around Europe as I traipse through museums and cathedrals? Probably not.
So here I am, almost 35, and still questioning what I want. And from everything that I’ve been reading (I know, I know, I need to stop reading all of these radical articles about how much risk there is after a certain age) and talking with my coworker (who was very candid about her thoughts on babies after a certain age—she wasn’t trying to be jerky or condescending, just cautionary), I’m not sure what to think, and my head is hurting from thinking about it.