NOT KEEPING SCORE

A MULTI-PART EXPLORATION ON WHETHER PEOPLE CHANGE, THROUGH THE COMPLETELY UN-SYSTEMATIC ANALYSIS OF PERSONAL ITEMS FOUND IN SHANNON DEJONG’S “SPECIAL BOX” AND ASSORTED CHILDHOOD MEMORABILIA*[1] — AND OTHER STUFF, TOO

Part IV

I went to a baby shower for a friend the other day, which was lovely, truly lovely. But let me tell you — it could have also wigged me out, had I let it. And here’s why: do you see these people?

These lovely people are having a really great time holding babies and ooh-ing and awe-ing over miniature-sized clothing with hearts and bugs on them.

Great.

Splendid.

I love hearts and bugs. And babies are super-delicious, too. And look how happy they are! Oh, so happy! (Happiness is good! You can’t go wrong with Happy!)

But here’s where the wigging (and change) part comes in: those heart-baby-bug Oogalers? Those baby-lovers? Those maternal-ites and I used to get drunk off of Vermouth and make out with boys in bathrooms at the The Phoenix Theater. We used to dress up as super heros and chase each other around Petaluma with squirt guns. We used to listen to Wu-Tang Clan and Madonna (not concurrently) and choreograph dances and write notes in class with acronyms like “WTF?!” and “OMG!!!!” and “DYTHLM?” (Do You Think He Likes Me?)

We also… used to make fun of… babies. And people with babies. And people wanting to give birth to babies.

And now these people are stoked off of micro-ladybug pants?! When did we go from cynical trouble-makers to Cheek-Pinchers? When did we stop drinking Long Island Ice Teas and start drinking wine — and not out of plastic cups, mind you? When did we stop calling each other over the phone to giggle that we just “got some” and start calling each other to say we just “got some” ….good financial advice for buying a home -?

At what point does one go from being a child to having a child?

All I know is it’s an invisible process, and it’s name is Change.

And I’m not saying I don’t like it. Have you ever gotten drunk off a bottle of Vermouth? I just don’t want to have to oogle over buggy-bug pants. Can I not oogle over the purple hearts and buggy-bug pants?

* * *

And so today, when I get a text message with “baby’s on the way!” I was sitting in the library reading a Chinese dictionary, the web open on my computer, dreams of world travel filling my head:

Remain free! Unattached! Wild, unencumbered, like the wind!
My fingers were flying something fierce; Anne Sexton, e.e. cummings, Edna St. Vincent Millay kindly stoking my pathetic little writing-fire I was breathlessly trying to ignite, having let the creative coals die down to naked embers of late.

I imagined I would need to become very selfish again, devote all my time to myself and my writing, get very focused, and lock myself in a metaphorical creative den so I could make some headway on my novel, which I have not touch in months.

And then the text message. Baby on the way! And everything disappeared: The thoughts of world travel. The crackling digital world. The selfish need for isolation - vanished.

All I could think of was this little girl I once knew in junior high school with cinnamon pigtails, now a woman, giving birth to a little girl of her own. She was about to devote herself whole-heartedly to the raising of a new little girl. Such honor! She would wake every morning with purpose. She would go to bed every night with a singular goal. Nothing would mean the same anymore, for anyone, however slight;

Someone would no longer be “just a guy”, but would be now be Dad; someone would come to know herself as Aunt instead of just “little sister;” someone would teach her daughter to be a mother, and would get to know herself as Grandmother.

This new child was the bringer of Change.

New Life forces change upon us, and we must respond in kind. Like a tree sprouting a new branch — the other branches will grow more or less in the same direction until forced to shift course and change direction… to make room.

People change most when they have to.

* * *

I put away the dictionary, and as I left the library, I thought back to when I first found out my friend was pregnant, and in what ways this little whipper-snapper would bring Change into my life, in what ways she already has. I smiled, as I walked out of the library.
Okay, I thought, I might even be able to learn to oogle over the buggy-bug pants.

[Welcome to the world, Darian!]

*[1]Quite possibly the most lengthy and self-indulgent blog posting on NKS to date