Knocked Up…the movie, the movie!

I admit it, I am a 16, no 13 year-old boy. I laughed my ass off at Borat, I thought SuperBad was super funny.  Yes, I like (clever)  toilet jokes, but this is something that I don’t brag about. 

When Knocked Upcame out in theatres, I turned up my nose.  I would have sooner attended the GOP national convention than admit that I had gone to see that movie.  Here’s the thing, though, I loved it.  Fucking loved it.  I had complete sympathy with the misfit, useless, pot smoking dudes and loved the fact that the pretty blond fell for the dumpy dude. 

It also awoke another beast.  By the time that movie was over my ovaries were practically vibrating.  I would put money on a statistic that showed a baby boomlet following the release of this movie.  It gets this primal thing going…must. procreate. NOW.  Next thing I know I’m spending my afternoon watching Birth Day and A Baby Story and this new show about models who get pregnant.  During this one woman’s c-section the doctor actually said, “Now we’re cutting through the outer layers of skin, you won’t see any fat on this one because she’s nice and skinny.”  WTF?  Leave it to the fucking models to ruin the one time in life when it’s ok to be fat. 

Here’s the problem with having a second kid - ok, there are many issues, but here is one of them.  Even before becoming a parent I was cautious.  Living by the seat of the pants, and the wallet, makes me nervous.  Of course, we took a chance when we had The Private.  We didn’t have the perfect jobs, the perfect house, the list of things that were not suburban, text book perfect goes on and on, but we managed it, more than managed it.  But if I was cautious before, having The Private has sent that aspect of my personality into overdrive.  How in the heck could we afford childcare for a second kid and send The Private to our pre-school of choice?  What if we had to buy the – gasp - Safeway brand olive oil?  

Actually, I don’t even know why I mentioned that one, The Commander would never stand for that one.    

I’m sure that you see my point.  We’re trying really hard to provide the best that we can for our child.  Some of that is, of course, material – good food, quality childcare, a wide variety of experiences.  Can we do the same for two?  Do we have enough of ourselves to give? 

Aargh, this is to heavy to ponder before bed so I will leave you with this goofy deleted scene from Knocked Up.