Super Dad bought his airline ticket and will be visiting me next month. We haven't seen each other since May. So you'd thinking I would be overjoyed awaiting his arrival. Oddly, though, I am rather indifferent.
I am truly surprised at my reaction, or lack of reaction at this news. Super Dad and I speak almost daily, sometimes several times daily. I have whined ad nauseum about not seeing Super Dad. So what is this disconnect?!
I am fairly certain our buddy, fear is driving my turtle-hiding-in-my-shell behavior. After all this time and all the medical drama, what is he going to look like? Is Super Dad going to be different as a result? How will I feel when I see him? What will our time together be like? Will his physical problems dominate? Am I going to be disappointed? What is the outcome going to be?
I am trying to put the questions to the back and simply be ready to see Super Dad. To enjoy our time together.
17 January 2011
05 January 2011
decisions, choices, roads travelled
Lately I have noticed that children keep catching my attention. Unconsciously I am drawn to taking in the antics of children. Maybe this is my so-called biological clock kicking in, because there are cute little people coming out of the wood work. I never knew so many existed.
Case in point, a little boy about four years old was having an early dinner with his mom at Costco this afternoon. While I munched on my churro, I was enamored watching him and all his fascination with the world, particularly the soda vending machine. From the looks his mother was giving me, I am positive she believed I was planning his abduction.
The realization that I am 36 has hit hard. Sure, women have babies well into their 40s. But there is this little nagging part of me that realizes the die is cast and I don't quite know how I feel about it; I suppose it is that small pang of regret that is bothering me.
My choices have led me here. But I love my life. As I talk out of both sides of my mouth, I truly do believe I lead a charmed existence and enjoy so very much each and every experience I am presented with. A great career, the ability to travel, to be flexible (for the most part, uprooting dogs and such) to go where the wind blows me. I totally know I could not go buy an arm-load of dresses or head off to exotic foreign lands if I had a child. I love my freedom. I don't know that I could not surrender that vital part of myself.
But then I wonder at what point is the dress shopping going to get old. Will Super Dad be my equivalent of Carrie's Mr. Big and we'll be enough for each other? I did enjoy playing Easter Bunny for Montana Man's children. Therein lies the catch-22. I don't want to be a single mother either. While sounding utterly pathetic, I have a difficult enough time being a "single parent" to a 55 pound accident-prone dog that I could not imagine dealing with the demands of a child. Maybe that right there is my answer.
Nothing is perfect though. Some of my married-with-children friends envy my freedom. The grass isn't greener on either side of our fences; it is simply a different length. I just don't want to wake up one day and wish I had gone left instead of right at the fork in the road.
Case in point, a little boy about four years old was having an early dinner with his mom at Costco this afternoon. While I munched on my churro, I was enamored watching him and all his fascination with the world, particularly the soda vending machine. From the looks his mother was giving me, I am positive she believed I was planning his abduction.
The realization that I am 36 has hit hard. Sure, women have babies well into their 40s. But there is this little nagging part of me that realizes the die is cast and I don't quite know how I feel about it; I suppose it is that small pang of regret that is bothering me.
My choices have led me here. But I love my life. As I talk out of both sides of my mouth, I truly do believe I lead a charmed existence and enjoy so very much each and every experience I am presented with. A great career, the ability to travel, to be flexible (for the most part, uprooting dogs and such) to go where the wind blows me. I totally know I could not go buy an arm-load of dresses or head off to exotic foreign lands if I had a child. I love my freedom. I don't know that I could not surrender that vital part of myself.
But then I wonder at what point is the dress shopping going to get old. Will Super Dad be my equivalent of Carrie's Mr. Big and we'll be enough for each other? I did enjoy playing Easter Bunny for Montana Man's children. Therein lies the catch-22. I don't want to be a single mother either. While sounding utterly pathetic, I have a difficult enough time being a "single parent" to a 55 pound accident-prone dog that I could not imagine dealing with the demands of a child. Maybe that right there is my answer.
Nothing is perfect though. Some of my married-with-children friends envy my freedom. The grass isn't greener on either side of our fences; it is simply a different length. I just don't want to wake up one day and wish I had gone left instead of right at the fork in the road.
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