So yesterday, my beloved turned to me and said: "It's time for a fucking action plan." Apparently, we have to take some fucking action and make some motherfucking decisions, the implication, I guess, being that we've spent enough time on this reading and learning bullshit-- yes, she said bullshit-- so we've got to set it aside and get crackin'.
I cried, because I always do, and got angry, which I don't always do. I felt like I was being told that the researching part that has changed everything about what kind of fucking action plan we make-- that it was over, and boring, and things could only get better once the object of my devoted efforts was put aside. That's the part I'm good at, and that's the part Heather has no patience with.
I'm realizing that this kind of argument is going to be ever-present in the baby-making process. My abilities and interests are nothing like Heather's. That makes us fabulous partners and, I hope, fabulous parents, but not on the same page when it comes to projects.
But this project is, as she would put it, a big fucking deal, and we have to be fucking teammates because we can't fucking do it without each other, so I'm ready to put the baby bible down and follow the fucking action plan.
Guess what the action plan is? We have one day to pick our sperm donor. Fuck, yeah!
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