I realized that four months from today, I will probably be holding my little person. That’s so crazy. I don’t know if anyone else is like this, but whenever I achieve some big life goal, it seems so surreal to me. Like I never thought I’d live long enough to do it. Perhaps it’s because I was always taught that Jesus could come back ANY DAY, so I just go about life not really expecting to reach “Granny-age.”
So when I
- Moved away from home
- Obtained a Big Ten degree
- Got a full-time job with paid vacation
- Married a wonderful person
- Bought a house
- Got my very own dog,
I was quite surprised with myself. Perhaps I am surprised because I am also a pessimist, so I don’t trust myself to reach goals.
I also have life goals of writing my favorite book (it doesn’t need to be published, but just bound and put on my own shelf), owning a single-cab pickup truck, living in a lovely house on several acres, and seeing my family live for Jesus.
These goals aren’t quite as easy to reach as getting knocked up. But they probably also require less follow-up work than giving birth to a little person.
And they’re less nerve-wracking. I am not afraid of the actual raising of the child, like most people are. The kid will be FINE. It will not die because I didn’t do every perfect parenting thing possible. My fears are selfish ones. How much will this baby wreck my life? How much will I resent the baby for snatching away my quiet times? How much crap am I going to have to lug around everywhere for ONE little person? How many weird parents will I have to deal with (you know, the ones who freak out too much over their kids, or who don’t believe in the word “discipline,” etc.). Ugh. All the sacrifies for one little person!!!
She had better be extremely cute and wicked smart. Lucy is a bucket of trouble in herself, but her cuteness and cleverness help me to love her to pieces and not hate her. I don’t know how the parents of ugly children could do it… :)