In a little over 36 hours I will be on my way home. I figure that by the time I leave this resort until I’m in my husbands arms I’ll probably have about 11 hours of travel awaiting me. The JW Marriott Starr Pass is a beautiful property with impecible service, but it’s still in Tucson which is quite a journey from home (and never a direct one).
It’s been a great show, easy but successful. I’m looking forward to seeing my sweet husband whom I adore. My persnikity cat, how no more how ornary she gets I will lover her until the end of time. And my precious pupper who is blessedly on the mend. Oh for sure, I’m excited to get home. Except…
Except that tonight as I was talking to the boy I began to think about coming home and all that that means. If you know me, you know I worry WAY.to.much. The dog has helped me put some of that in perspective, but still it sneaks up on me more often than not. Now I’m just aware of it-awesome. Anwho… I suddendly found my stomach turning at the idea of being responsible for another life. Albeit a sweet, mostly housebroken, cuddle love dog of a life, but still a life. It was hard enough with a self sustaining cat who I probably didn’t give enough attention to until recently, but now there are two animals. Holy cow
Now here’s the thing. Having animals does limit you to some degree of running around. I mean, I can’t just pick up and head off to Mexico. But let’s face it, when would I normally just head off to Mexico anyway?
It reminds me of that scene from “When Harry Met Sally”, when Meg Ryan’s character talks about how she and her (now ex) boyfriend didn’t get married and have kids because they wanted to be able to have sex on the kitchen floor whenever they wanted, except that they never did anyway and now he’s gone off and gotten married…
The thing is, when the boy and I were engaged I quickly realized that, as it turns out, I am the commitment phobe. I’m the one who was afraid of screwing up. I am the one who is afraid of the unknown. I am the one who has so often practiced the great art of the avoidance technique.
The boy called me out on it tonight, my very agile avoidance practices, and I don’t deny it. It’s so easy to avoid rather than to risk failure.
But now I wonder, how on earth will I ever survive kids?
Like it or not, it’s something I’ve been wondering since we brought Archie home. The nights awake, the crying, not knowing what he needs, not wanting him to be sad or unhappy or scared. And the worry. OH.Dear.Lord there was a lot of worrying. And no offense but he’s just a dog. How in all that is good and holy will I survive a CHILD?! I’m secretly hopeful that I’ll take after my sister-in-law in her laid back style, but the reality is I’ll probably be institutionalized by Jr’s 3 month birthday. *sigh*
If nothing else, this experience will help me prepare for that. And it seems to be helping me see a lot of other aspects of my life as well. If nothing else, it’s quelched the baby bug for a SOLID 6 months to a year. That is for sure.
For now though, I will take the road home tomorrow, and will embrace my life by the moment I am back in my sweet husbands arm.
But still no babies for a while. My sanity can only be stretched so far.
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