Modern woman

A bird is eyeballing my blueberry muffin. I know that if I get distracted long enough, he will take a piece of it.

I am not exaggerating. Those things are ballsy. A French couple sitting on a table near mine looked away for a second and a group of birds took a whole slice of their bagel. The French man is now covering his wife's food with one hand while she goes inside, probably asking for another piece.

This is my favorite coffee shop.

From where I sit, I see the avid bike riders tying and untying their hybrid bikes from a designated place for them, because this is southern California and bicycles always have a parking lot.

There is a lawn surrounded by rose bushes where people drink coffee on beach chairs while their dogs socialize with one another.

The sign by the door of this quaint and old spanish building says very clearly though, "No dogs and no surfboards inside."

Now two little birds stare at me, from the top of a beach umbrella. I am on the second floor, by the porch, drinking my milk, timing my contractions, while reading books on my iPad, sans wedding ring.

I am a modern woman.

Because my ring is officially not going through my knuckle, I look single and pregnant. I hesitated leaving the house from my hermit existence this morning because of this. A very pregnant woman, appearing single, in a coffee shop. Not so good.

But then I remember that most people that come here have orange or green hairs, wear flip flops and clothes that are smudged with paint, so I say, fuck it, I'll go.

My husband dropped me off with stepson who, upon seeing me this morning after arriving from the airport said, "you look even bigger than last time I saw you. Didn't think that was possible!"


Let's talk more about that wedding ring business.

Back in Virginia, while I sat in my gynecologist's office, waiting for the official urine results that would confirm the pregnancy, a nurse walked in, files in hand, beaming a smile.

She had sparkly, blue eye shadow and wore a flower on her hair, a look that distracted me enough from the papers in her hand and make me exclaim inwardly, wtf!

She says, "You are pregnant!" and without missing a beat, darts her eyes towards my hand, confirms I am married and says, "That's a beautiful ring!"

We both look at it in silence and when our eyes meet again she realizes she is inappropriately judgmental and excuses herself, leaving the room while I go back to staring at my ring.

Do I look that young? And why do people still care so much about a wedding ring on a pregnant woman?

Now there are five birds staring at my muffin crumbs. I better go so they can eat. Someone with a dreadlock is eyeballing my table, anyway.

Plus, my contractions are picking up. It's like the Murphy law. The moment I decide to venture out of the house, they restart.

I wonder if my uterus has agoraphobia.


  1. It's just Matthew reminding you that you are not supposed to be out and about :)

  2. And now Katelin wants a muffin at 5 in the evening. :)


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