with Kristin Darguzas
I am equal parts Mother, Lover, Obsessor and Workaholic, tripping between unfolded laundry, discarded granola wrappers and assorted memory sticks to and unearthing treasures and various garbage. The blended family unit is an increasingly common structure, and an often perplexing one. Here I'll navigate up the mountain of exes, legality, awkward questions, work balance and attention division - hopefully in time to inhale deeply and enjoy the view at the top.
My son is with his Dad tonight, and Corey and I have been hanging out in the garage with my brother. The rain is pounding down outside, the night mist swirls, red wine sits waiting in mismatched glasses on the ping pong table. We’re talking about kids, life, fitness and love and I’m staring at my brother, awestruck suddenly by the fact that he will be 31 in a few months: that we’re both suddenly and firmly adults. Not even young adults, full-fledged People Who Should Know What They Are Doing.
He’s talking about his girlfriend, about a psychic she just visited after waiting for months on a list to get in the door.
“She’s apparently one of the best in the world,”my brother says,”She said all kind of weird and accurate stuff.”
“You believe in that crap?” I’m surprised, my brother is a cynic and dismisses most of the earth’s population as wingnuts and wackjobs.
“I don’t know, it’s just that she said some pretty accurate stuff about my relationship with my girlfriend and my past.”
“Hmm,” I replied. Still skeptical.
Corey and I stood in the kitchen a few hours later, pouring water into plastic tumblers.
“Would you want to know your future?” I asked him, “If you could. If you could know exactly what would happen to you tomorrow.”
“I think I know for the most part.” He’s nonplussed. I look at him, “Would you?” he asks.
“Yeah, for sure,” I reply and he furrows his brow:
“What do you want to know, ask me, I’ll tell you.”
“Will we be together in 10 years?”
“Will we have a baby?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I thought you knew the future.”
He’s looking at me. “I don’t know about that.”
Corey has always been unsure about whether or not he wanted kids: he’s on the fence but I think he’d be very comfortable with our family unit as as. But I can’t help but wonder if his ambivalence is simply because he doesn’t realize how amazing it is to be a parent. He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on, the staggering emotion of a newborn, of something born of you.
And he just turned 30 and he’s got so much kindness and talent and he is so extraordinarily good with Nolan. Plus, he carries our kitten around like he’s a sweet human baby and it almost kills me, the exquisite cuteness. I can’t even imagine how blown away he’d be by the real thing.
I’m not super set on having another baby myself. A playmate for Nolan would be great, but the gap in years at this point might be too much for them to be really close, anyway. I would love a little girl, maybe, but I struggled in pregnancy and nearly died from exhaustion in Nolan’s infant years.
But I feel that Corey might regret, eventually it if he doesn’t have a kid, if we don’t expand our family to include his own genetic material. I wonder if Nolan as his psuedo-kid will be enough. I wonder if it’s any of my business, if it’s ever right to “encourage” someone to want to have kids.
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