Thursday, April 9, 2009

Did those Blue Hairs in the Buick just Pass Me?

So this weekend, the family and I went to Michigan to visit the rest of my family. My Dad still had not met Lily, even though he tried to convince us to come up for Christmas when she was four weeks old. No thanks, Dad, don't really want to drive five hours with a 4-week-old that screams in the car. Now that she's 4 months and is able to hold toys and look around, the car is a much friendlier place. So, anyways, we decided to finally take the plunge.

As I was driving and Rob was trying to calm our crying babe in the backseat, I felt a bit of freedom. The last 4 months of my life have been a drastic departure from the first thirty. I used to do things like stay up til 2 and sleep in til 11. I used to take showers. Daily. And even the occasional bath. And shave my legs. I haven't done any of those things in, well, four months. (Well, okay, I have taken the occasional shower, but I digress). Within the last four months, I haven't been more than 45 minutes from my house and I've only ventured that far because the Babies R Us is that far away. There have been entire 2-week spans where I didn't even leave the house.

So, here we were. On the open road (does a congested freeway qualify as open road?). On a weekday. This was like a real vacation. The sun was shining. It was (almost) warm enough to open the windows and feel the wind in my hair. I was in heaven. Well, my version of heaven. This was very reminiscent of what Rob and I used to do pre-baby. Travel throughout the state visiting various family members. Cranking up the stereo (well, NPR), having some of the best conversations we ever have. And, even though the kid was sometimes crying and we had to listen to #7 on the Chocolat soundtrack to try and prevent this, this still brought back perfectly lovely memories.

During this great reminiscence, I must have entered sort of a highway fugue, because the next thing I knew, somewhere between Uniopolis and Maumee, I looked to my left, and there they were. Two blue hairs (and I mean that with the upmost respect for the elderly), probably 80-years old, were passing me in their Buick. Out loud I said, "Did those blue hairs in the Buick just pass me?" I checked my speed, and upon seeing this significantly smaller number than I used to drive, realized that yet another thing has changed since the baby. I now have this incredible sense of responsibility. To keep her safe. To do the right thing. Just like I've given up listening to NPR in exchange for her music. And taking vacations whenever I want. And even taking showers. So I've sacrificed a little freedom. Not even a sacrifice, just a change, I suppose. An evolution. An improvement in myself, even. A sense of purpose and responsibility and loss of selfishness.

But now I'm just rambling. Trying to figure out how this whole baby thing has really changed me. And it has, for the better, I think. For now I'll leave it at that.

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