Philosophical Monday: The Great Wide Betty

Wait, you don't run with a tiger, a parrot, and a giraffe, too? That makes me really sad for you.

Wait, you don't run with a tiger, a parrot, and a giraffe, too? That makes me really sad for you.

It’s funny, because when we were getting ready for Betty to come, we often told people that it was like throwing a wedding all over again. We had a list of weekend-consuming things that we had to buy for the big event, lessons and all sorts of consultations, and a pre-party thrown by others. If you throw in the new used car, just having a baby cost about as much as our wedding.

But now that we’ve actually had the baby, I realize that it’s actually nothing like a wedding. When I married CH, we had already been living together for almost two years, we knew that children were in our future, and we were determined to spend the rest of our lives together. We even set and invested in retirement goals. Our life together was pretty well-planned.

With Betty, we have no idea what the future will hold.

It’s interesting meeting people as a fairly new mother. You look at them in a different way. Like Betty, your best friend used to be a baby. Your pediatrician used to be a baby. That guy that cut in front of you in line at the grocery store used to be a baby. Your worst enemy used to be a baby.

I hope that Betty grows up, goes to college, gets a job that she enjoys, meets or re-meets a nice person in her late 20s/early 30s, gets married, gives me grandchildren and dies at a ripe old age.

But even if she lives the absolute perfect version of her life, there are many different routes that her personality could take. She could live this life and be shy. She could live this life and be abrasive. She could live this life and be one of those people who is always “on.” She could live this life and have one of the personality types that I find most annoying.

That severely unpleasant person that you avoid at work used to be a baby.

I once read an article about a brilliant scientist who refused to have children because he was too afraid that he wouldn’t like them. Now that’s honesty.

That scientist used to be a baby.

I both can’t wait for and somewhat dread Betty growing up. I love her so much now that I know I will love her as an adult. I’ll probably even like her. I like most people, b/c most people, IMO, are pretty damn awesome.

The most awesome person you know used to be a baby.

But there are no guarantees. Betty might wander off the path I would have her walk. And some of the happiest people I know are that happy because they haven’t lived perfect lives. No strike that, ALL of the happiest people I know haven’t lived perfect lives.

The happiest person you know used to be a baby.

So I guess in the end, I just want her to be happy. But…

The most miserable person you know used to be a baby.

The suspense is killing me. But I’ll find out soon enough. And when I do, I’ll probably wish that I’d enjoyed the ride more instead of wondering obsessively about what was going to happen. But that’s how I felt when I graduated from college, and when I kissed CH on our wedding day, and when I held Betty in my arms for the first time. Curiosity killed the cat and my ability to live in the moment. But I guess that’s my personality type. And you know what? I used to be a baby.

You used to be a baby.