After last night's big step of telling our parents, this whole thing, is, as I mentioned a couple of posts ago, a lot more real. Such that this morning I woke up for the first time feeling a little nervous and overwhelmed. Those thoughts that had bothered me when we talked about it potentially happening were now all over the place: most significantly, very few of my close friends were anywhere near the same position where are in terms of being married, etc., and the disconnect that already exists is going to get even bigger (as I write this, "Knocked Up" is playing in the background and Seth Rogan is talking about how "you lose that male comraderie" when you start a family).
I also think that maybe I'm too young, as a result of some nonsensical calculations that continually run through my head - like when The Baby Vohra is ready to go to college, I'll only be 48. 48! That's really young! I'll have just completed my midlife crisis (Porsche). And when The Baby Vohra is 25, I'll be 55. Can you believe it? Only 55. Of course, neither 48 nor 55 is all that young (or young at all) and I'm fine, but I just can't help but freak myself out a bit. Will we be settled and comfortable when I'm 48? Can I afford to send The Baby Vohra to college? In the NY Times magazine a couple of months ago, there was an article about just how hard it is for kids to get into college these days. It featured a kid named "Winthrop" who was a descendant of James Polk, and was something like a 4-generation legacy at Princeton. Naturally, he wanted to go to Princeton. He didn't get in to Princeton. Hoot. The Baby Vohra will not be related to James Polk! And then on the NBC Nightly News last night, there was a feature about how kids are going to these advanced athletic training centers when they're like 7 years old to better position themselves for college scholarships. Geez...Marv Marinovich has nothing on their parents. Am I going to have to do that? Oh who am I kidding, I probably will do that. Golf scholarships are full rides!
Then, randomly, I started thinking about helping The Baby Vohra learn how to spell. I was knocked out of consecutive school-wide spelling bees in the 3rd and 4th grades on the following words: "disappoint," which I spelled "dissappoint," and "boundary," which I spelled "boundry." Those two defeats scarred me for a long time. And I still don't know how to spell "boundary." I just rely on a spellcheck. But now I realize that I have to help The Baby Vohra spell, so that he/she doesn't suffer in the school spelling bee as I did. You think I'm joking. I'm not. This is totally what was running through my head at work today.
To The Baby Vohra - here's hoping I don't dissappoint you.
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