I'm going to.

As of a week, I didn't think I was going to. I've been published under this name and like the continuity of my career. A. doesn't care one way or the other (though he does take the stand that he will most certainly not hyphenate his name with mine, like a couple of our ultra-liberal friends did).

I love that he doesn't have an opinion about this. But it makes it harder to decide.

So the other day, I finally had a long talk with my stepmother, who did not change her name when she married my father. Their names rhyme, which is adorable, but they're not the same.

And she said:

"Colddigits, if I planned to have kids, I would change my name. Do you really want your kid to have to explain to his teacher every single time that his parents are married, and to each other?"

Considering that our kids will probably go to Berkeley or Oakland schools and will probably be among many children whose mothers did not change their names, I'm sure that doesn't matter so much. But then I started thinking about what it means to be part of a family.

Because that's, quite frankly, one of the things about marriage that thrills me the most. That we're going to be family. That we're going to start with a little family of two, then gradually add to it, first with our new dog (coming soon!), then with a kid or two, until we're a happy unit that safely sticks together.

That's what I'm looking forward to. And the name, even though it's somewhat incidental, is going to be symbolic of that for me.