I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to write for today, but I’ve found this is usually remedied with a walk and some surfing.
We’re expecting rain any minute now. Although it may seem unfair that most of the northern hemisphere is facing freezing snowstorm after freezing snowstorm while Californians have been wearing shorts and eating dinner outside, the truth is, all of this behavior is typical for us only when we are on the verge of a major drought. So rain is welcome and we are waiting.
Before I left for my walk, I photographed the lime tree, full of buds I hope will turn to fruit soon. The last lime tree we had turned completely black. What wasn’t frost bitten was covered in ants. I’m hoping for more for this new one.
On my walk, I decided that lately rather than baby fever, I have actually developed baby fear; a condition that causes irritability when questioned about your future family and acute apprehension about the impending change a baby would bring. I wonder if my fears seem typical or not. I’m not worried about diapers or child rearing or the tantrum throwers or the struggling student. I’ve had experiences with that. I’ve been that. I’m not even afraid of the inevitable “I hate yous” because I know it will bum me out and that is just that. Like most things that have come before it, I know that I will have to try to approach parenting with grace; to accept being slighted and injured while all the while trying to love.
I’ve observed many parents from far away and up close when nannying and teaching school. I’ve observed my own every day I’ve spent with them. I’ve thought over what it will be like for me to be one about as often as I find a tangle in my hair. I know being a mother will be the greatest adventure I’ve had yet. Change never ceases to terrify me.
I think the main reason I’m not ready to be a parent is because I’m not sure I’m ready to not be a child.
Still wandering the beach, I tried to capture the way the sand shimmered. Some rain drops fell even though I couldn’t identify the clouds they came from. They seemed to drift down from the sky like toy army men do when their parachutes open.
No one else was surfing when I paddled out. Of course, I love this. I’m reminded of the time when my lifeguard friend said that when he’s driving down the beach and doesn’t see anyone for miles except one person, he always knows it’s me. I love bad waves and cold-water-solitude. It puts me at peace with my thoughts. Whatever they may be that day.