Of the many weird things about being pregnant and having an infant, one of the strangest things is the realization that, at one point in time, my parents were equally as enamored with me. I'm the oldest and they were married for about four years before I was born so they must have had the same 'what the hell are we doing? how is this going to change our lives?' conversations, and then subsequent 'hey, this is going okay. we should do this again' conversations.
We talk about these things now because I'm curious, but I didn't really know anything before about my parents' lives as young people deciding to have kids and struggling to figure out what to do with those kids once they had them. It seems like, in my mind, we have always been the family we are now -- all five of us. Although one of my earliest memories if of my brother being born. I remember that I had a book called, "The New Baby" and after he was born, my dad took me to the Livingston Mall to get my ears pierced, my present since presumably, my brother was their present. Then we went to the hospital. This was before "rooming in" and "family time," so he was still in the nursery and the nurses gave me a stool to stand on to look through the glass. I don't remember anything else, but I do remember that stool and peering through the window. Sadly, I don't have any recollection at all of my sister being born, but to be fair, we all sneezed and my mom was pregnant again. Also, I was six so forgive my less-than-astute powers of observation. I did find, though, documentation of my sister's birth when I was digging around some paperwork at my parents' house. On that weird light green paper with the dotted lines across the middle to make sure you're printing your letters correctly, it said, "My mom had another baby. Her name is Becky. She has brown hair. We like her."
The other weird thing I've discovered is that not everybody goes through life looking at people and events like they are characters and plot developments in their own personal novel. Some people are fine with things just happening, and they don't feel the need to document everything so that they won't forget it. I am not one of these people. I have kept a journal since I was ten years old. I like to remember the specifics of what I was doing, what I was wearing, baseball scores, the weather, etc. and sometimes the important stuff of what's going on in my mind and who I've loving/hating at the time. When I die, my children will have pages and pages of documentation confirming their suspicions that their mother was a self-involved headcase with a lot of teenage angst long after the teenage years. And that also, she had no idea what the hell she was doing.
I don't know if that makes me happy or sad, but I like that, in between the whiny 'what should I do with my life' ramblings, Zygote will find long detailed explanations of lazy, summer days just watching her smile and giggle, how I could happily spend hours walking her around town and chattering about where we're going, hoping that she might get it, and how I have such hope for her.
I don't know why I assume that Zygote and I will not be close later on. Who knows? Maybe we will manage to successfully navigate the middle school/high school years without her feeling totally alienated, but not in a creepy 'my mom is my best friend/my children are my LIFE' sort of way. I hope so. But if not, I have the documentation to prove that at one point in time, all we needed to make each other happy, was each other.
And, that I am crazy. But of course, as a teenager, she will already know that.
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