Depressing

The first summer we had in this house, Paul's parents came to visit. One night, we were all sitting around drinking iced tea and chatting. Paul's dad got a big smile on his face, and said, "There is nothing like sitting in your adult son's house and talking with him as an adult, as a friend." Several times during that trip and subsequent trips, he has returned to that theme: adult children as equals, as friends, owning a home, etc.

When I was a baby my mother used to hold me and nurse me and talk to me about how one day I would hold and nurse my own babies.

On my car I have those little sun shades in the back windows. These things are better markers for 'don't tailgate! kid in backseat!' than those "baby on board" signs ever were. Mine say, "Future Driver On Board" with the Volkswagen logo.

When I look at my daughter, I know that nothing is certain, except that things will be harder for her. I don't know if she will own a home or a car. I don't know if she will marry or have children. I don't know if we will ever converse as equals. It's crushingly depressing to think about what she might not be.

It's much better to think about what she is, now.