Today I did a very grown-up thing. I got a quote to up my homeowners’ insurance policy (Boring, I know. Hang in there for a minute).
The one we have is fine; it would cover the amount we paid for our house. The only problem is, they don’t make houses like they used to. It cost close to three times the amount we paid for our house to rebuild it.
Anyhow, the act of insurance shopping made me think about the very quick year we’ve spent in our house.
Over breakfast, where all the monumental conversations happen (grrrr…pass cereal…bleh…milk…coffee…must have…geh), I mentioned to Coury that it had almost been one year since our big purchase.
Being the sage she is (even with the pregnant brain!), she noted that our last three May’s have been big as life phases go.
Turns out, the ole pregnant brain sage is right.
Two May’s ago, we made a legal and spiritual commitment to be together (Trust me, the law has to be involved for me to commit. I moved over 10 times in two years once).
Last May, we bought the house we plan to spend the next 30 or more years dumping money into. In fact, we’ve already dumped a bunch of money into it.
This May (or possibly late April, we'll pretend it's May regardless), we’ll have our first child.
The guy that changes long-term goals on a daily basis made three monumental life decisions in three consecutive May’s. Peter Pan did, indeed, grow up.
Two of those life milestones caused me to lose sleep. Marrying Coury was not one of them.
The night before we signed the paperwork for the loan on our current house (we had a second house we were trying to sell at the time), I lay in bed and sweated.
How could we afford two houses at once? More importantly, how could we afford to let this house pass by?
I woke up worried several times that night. I was still uptight the next morning at signing time.
Somehow, though, we made it work.
This morning, I woke up 20 minutes before my alarm went off. Instead of slipping back to sleep, I realized that continuous rest was about to become ancient history.
It’s frightening, really. The silence of our big house is about to be interrupted, pierced by another human.
I daydream a lot about what the baby will look like, or how it will act, or how I will feel with no sleep.
Sometimes, I’ll daydream far into the future. Will Emerson be OK mentally and physically? Will I be resented for the things that I think are best for Emerson (Math is where it’s at, Dad. English majors are so 2008)? Does watching TV actually make me dumber (sorry, unrelated)?
Then I remember that my wife has awesome genes, and I hope that all of the amazing qualities that I see in her translate over to our first-born.
Like I said in a previous post, I have no idea what to expect.
The things I daydream about, terrifying or otherwise, indicate that next May we’ll still be very happy, celebrating Emerson’s first birthday.
Yep, we do it big May. One milestone at a time.
No comments:
Post a Comment