January 31st
We were at my parents’ place for dinner yesterday, when my mother asked if I was getting more excited about A’s pregnancy. I couldn’t help replying, “Not really.” “Robert!” she exclaimed indignantly. “Well, I’ll say I’m excited if you want me to,” I said, but that obviously didn’t leave her very satisfied.
Later, my dad and I went to get a couple of pizzas for our dinner:
Dad: So are you excited about becoming a father?
Me: Haven’t I already answered this question?
Dad: That was your mother asking. Now I’m asking you.
Me: Well, I think it’s like when I go on holidays overseas – I’m never really excited about it until I’m actually on the plane. So maybe I won’t be excited till I actually go to the hospital.
Dad: Your mother’s afraid you might be thinking it’s a bad idea to have a child.
Me: No, I think I’ve adjusted to the idea of having a child. It’s just that, after spending so many years planning on not having children, I can’t change my mind to the extent that I’m now excited by it.
Dad: But I suppose if you were going to be meeting Spielberg tomorrow, you’d be excited by that?
Me: Yep, I’d probably be excited by that.
I told A this conversation in the car on the way home. She said my mother had revealed her concerns about me, and A had assured her that we’d talked about the issue of children at length, and that I’m in favour of having a child, but not necessarily looking forward to the early stages of babyhood (i.e. the won’t-eat-won’t-sleep-no-personality stages). In fact, both of us prefer children that are beyond that stage. A concluded by asking my mother not to tell others about my relative lack of excitement – because unless you specify to my mother what things she shouldn’t tell relatives and friends, chances are she’ll tell them…
Actually, A really isn’t much more excited than me, and not just because of the reason given above. It’s also because she feels it’s not good to get too excited about these sorts of things, in case you ‘jinx’ them. Although looking at the reactions of her parents to our news, she may have inherited an inability to be excited about things like this anyway…
Later, my dad and I went to get a couple of pizzas for our dinner:
Dad: So are you excited about becoming a father?
Me: Haven’t I already answered this question?
Dad: That was your mother asking. Now I’m asking you.
Me: Well, I think it’s like when I go on holidays overseas – I’m never really excited about it until I’m actually on the plane. So maybe I won’t be excited till I actually go to the hospital.
Dad: Your mother’s afraid you might be thinking it’s a bad idea to have a child.
Me: No, I think I’ve adjusted to the idea of having a child. It’s just that, after spending so many years planning on not having children, I can’t change my mind to the extent that I’m now excited by it.
Dad: But I suppose if you were going to be meeting Spielberg tomorrow, you’d be excited by that?
Me: Yep, I’d probably be excited by that.
I told A this conversation in the car on the way home. She said my mother had revealed her concerns about me, and A had assured her that we’d talked about the issue of children at length, and that I’m in favour of having a child, but not necessarily looking forward to the early stages of babyhood (i.e. the won’t-eat-won’t-sleep-no-personality stages). In fact, both of us prefer children that are beyond that stage. A concluded by asking my mother not to tell others about my relative lack of excitement – because unless you specify to my mother what things she shouldn’t tell relatives and friends, chances are she’ll tell them…
Actually, A really isn’t much more excited than me, and not just because of the reason given above. It’s also because she feels it’s not good to get too excited about these sorts of things, in case you ‘jinx’ them. Although looking at the reactions of her parents to our news, she may have inherited an inability to be excited about things like this anyway…
posted by Robert at 5:51 PM
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