I’m beginning to think more and more about how having a very small person living life with us will change the way we live.
There are the obvious things that have taken up mental space lately: we have to plan a Bris, we have to decide about cloth diapers (which variety rather than whether or not), we have to have clothes, a bed, etc for this little critter. (And Nathan made me put the baby spoon we use for ice cream in the Raspberry’s drawer, even though he won’t need it for months. Both kids are very aware of his impending arrival and doing their parts to help get ready.)
But as those vital but small issues get settled, the make way for larger issues. How will my time change? How will my mind change?
I recently read two interesting essays about art and family. Though I do many things professionally, I do consider myself an artist. A Theatre Artist, which I can barely say without giggling because I fear it sounds pretentious. I’ve just gotten comfortable with the idea that that is what I am and now it is possible I will move away from it. For example:
I have a very generous grant from the Berks County Community Foundation in 2011 to write a new play for young audiences. I’m very excited about taking on this project and I feel like it is the perfect thing to do in my child’s first year of life. But when I mention it to people (ironically, people I barely know who ask what I do) they get very concerned that I have no idea what I’m getting into and that there is NO WAY I will be able to do anything but be a fountain of food, diapers, and sleep if I’m lucky for the next 18 years.
It makes me want to do the Diva Snap and say something like “You don’t know ME!” and then flip my hair and walk away.
But they don’t know me! Though I have been saying no to things (although I just joined a committee yesterday), I want to have artistic projects going. Obviously life will change when Raspberry arrives, but I hope to involve him in the art too! Why not!