Chasing Cars
Lately, I’ve been talking to a lot of friends and other bloggers who have been struggling with when to have children — they don’t feel “ready”, they want to eat better, quit smoking, learn Mandarin before they take the plunge, etc. etc. Oh heavens, I sure understand this circular thinking, and God KNOWS I wrote a ridiculous amount of overwrought personal essays on the topic, most of which embarrassingly reside in the archives of this site, but I’m surprised that my answer, each and every time, is the same answer I always received: you’re never ready. True story.
(Existential parental crisis aside, GOD I was annoying back then (“back then” meaning as recently as “yesterday”), and I should know better than to peruse my own archives, lest I blow them all up in a fit of irritation on my irritable, annoying self.)
Anyway, not to belabor the topic, but I finally understand what everyone meant when they told me that I’d never be ready, and that now — whenever now was — is as a good a time as any. Because, even at 33 weeks and change, I’m not ready. I mean, I’m excited — nay, THRILLED — to meet this tiny person who wiggles and kicks so hard that she actually hurts, but I’m going to be honest: I’m not ready in more ways than I’m actually ready. And yet, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
We recently bought a new car, and I had what could be considered my very own Night of the Meatloaf in very condensed, yet painfully awkward, format on the phone with the finance agent, and frankly, all she did was ask me my occupation and income. I … I froze. I froze COMPLETELY, because my head started spinning as I thought about the year to come, and what my income might or might not be this year, after taking time off for the baby and whether I’ll be able to go back to work the way I used to, or even quite frankly, whether I’ll WANT to, and if this whole freelancing thing would work out with a baby, and … well, I think we can all see where this is going. Hardly unique, but you know, THERE nonetheless.
My part of Vermont isn’t exactly fraught with in-house opportunity for people like me, and when we moved here, we made the very calculated, well-considered decision to do it anyway, for reasons that have to do with what’s best for us as a couple — now, a family — and decided that my career would have to make a shift. And I knew that – I actively chose to do this, and I’ve known and embraced it since we’ve been here, and I have absolutely no regrets about the choices I’ve made, and will continue to make in the interest of the three of us. In fact, I’m probably happier now than I’ve ever been.
But there’s nothing to make you feel more worthless than talking to a financial agent at a car dealership when you realize that because you hesitated like a loon as your future flashed before your eyes, causing you to panic and put your hand over the receiver as you whisper-scream to your husband that the coming year is full of unknowns, both exciting and terrifying, and that despite a credit score climbing towards 800, you don’t think you can QUALIFY on your own, even though you probably would have before you LOST YOUR SHIT on the nice Honda lady who now thinks you’re SHADY and trying to SCAM HONDA. I mean, all she did was ask my INCOME and I just panicked for a full three minutes before I pulled something SO LOW out of my ASS and then begrudgingly handed over Adam’s social security number and financial information. Fine. You win, Honda. You WIN.
That is, assuming she even gives us the loan after the absurd amount of hemming, hawing and abject panicking I did before answering her VERY SIMPLE QUESTION.
It was so awkward and upsetting that when I hung up, ADAM ASKED IF I WAS OKAY, and we had a very long talk about it. Thank you, Honda Finance!
I mean, I don’t think there’s any way to be ready for that. I don’t think there’s a way to be ready to realize that your family contributions and priorities are about to shift in a way you didn’t expect, away from being measured on tax returns and bank accounts, to that of family first, and finding the perfect balance — a balance I think we can all agree, simply does not exist without sacrifice, no matter what your decisions.
I don’t know. I don’t even know where I’m going with this, except to say that we all do the best we can, and make the best choices we can with the circumstances we’re given. And trust that it will all work out for the best, for all of us, because, well, it will.
I mean, provided Honda follows through and actually gives me a loan. I’m not sure I would if I heard someone freak out like I did. And uh, they haven’t called me back today, so God only knows. There’s probably a giant red flag next to my name that says, “SHADY-ASS LUNATIC.”
Despite all this, I mean it when I say that I am truly happy. It doesn’t mean I’m fully ready, but it means I’m perfectly okay with not being ready, because I don’t know who is.
Happy Wednesday!
*Oh, LIKE YOU DON’T KNOW.
20 comments January 20th, 2009