So, Andrew and I are now the proud owners of actual, grown-up life insurance policies. I don’t recommend that you do this type of thing unless you have obnoxiously high levels of optimism about your own mortality. Though I love our insurance agent (who came to our house–who knew they did that?), I feel like we’re tempting fate a bit. One more way having a baby changes your life (and checkbook balance).
I am doing a mini-version of the whole mom-work-baby-juggling act now, and I think it just results in lots of guilt. If I’m at work, I am imagining all the adorable and irreplaceable things she’s doing while I’m gone and not paying the required attention to the real-life someone-else’s-child in front of me. However, when I’m home, I find myself thinking how nice it was to go to Panera Bread for lunch and wear heels and matching clothes (I am totally unmotivated to look pulled-together when Andrew and BG are going to be the only people who see me for an entire day). I guess this is what it’s all about, huh? Lots of people kept telling me that old saying–you can have it all, you just can’t have it all at the same time (or something along those lines). It’s not very PC, but that makes sense to me right now. So, for now, my life is a series of “to-do” lists–and I have to accept the fact that I will forever be transferring things from the old list (that didn’t quite get done) every time I make a new one. That strikes fear in my obsessive-perfectionist soul, but I suppose I’m just learning to suck it up.
I had a whole list of things to write about, but I went downstairs for a cup of tea and got distracted. Now I can’t remember, so I am off to concoct dinner.
