So much has happened in the week and a half since I last posted-C turned one, Z and I celebrated our 12th wedding anniversary, class started, my parents visited, I wrote my first paper since 1999, and I attended my very first state fair where I managed to have an anxiety attack just as we approached the huge butter sculpture. So I’m going to try and do a bunch of shorter posts this week to catch up. I say that now…not sure if it will actually happen.
Very quickly: the class is awesome. As much as I enjoy being in a professional kitchen with its familiar smells and all that stainless steel, I love the seminar component even more. The first readings we discussed were by Wendell Berry and Michael Pollan, so really accessible stuff, but when it comes to the food movement these are the big guys. Food Studies is a relatively new field of interest in academia. There aren’t many programs in the US, and one is being developed at SU right now. The class has filled me with excitement and urgency, and I want to figure out how to go to grad school to study food issues.
Z and I have pretty much come to the conclusion that we are done in the baby making department. We are older parents, Z will be 40 on his next birthday. If we had started years earlier a third kid would have been a no brainer, but we made different choices and I think they were the best choices for us. The thing is, right now we feel like we are stuck in purgatory. Friends keep telling us it will get less grueling, but we want our life back a little bit. We want an amazing night of sleep every once in a while. We want to not spend over an hour a night getting the boys ready and into bed. We want them to be able to occupy themselves for a few hours and give us a fucking break. What it comes down to is that we just can’t wrap our minds around extending this purgatory for two more years.
On Tuesday I happened to see two newborns in my travels. My heart ached so much when I looked at both babies that tears came to my eyes. Forget my heart, my boobs ached. I’m still nursing, but haven’t leaked all over the place in public for ages. The milk managed to stay put on Tuesday, but it was close. I want another baby. After spending time with some truly amazing young ladies I’m even getting over my girl baby fear a bit and would kind of like to see if we would get a daughter out of the third try.
But, you know, I also want a pony. Ok, not a pony. Hmm, I also really want an apartment in NYC. And some self confidence. And to dress with elegance and panache. And for really thick, curly, red hair. None of these things are going to magically come true. Which is actually fine because the reality is we are happy in our lives right now in this family. We are happy. It’s crazy to type and I sort of feel like I’m jinxing something, but it is true. We are happy, we recognize it, and we feel lucky and grateful. I want another kid, but I want us to get out of purgatory even more. So no third baby for us. Unless it’s an accident. In that case I’d like us all to pretend that this post never happened and act super excited and thrilled. Also, who the hell knows? Maybe we change our minds next month. Maybe a third baby is a perfect idea a bit later.